Chapter 17

Elena

The restaurant Jaxon asked to meet at was a fair deal nicer than the initial seedy bar where we had first spoken; it was a cozy bistro in the lower east side, overlooking the river, with twinkling candles in the windows.

He showed up without a disguise this time, although I couldn’t help but notice with a sense of humor that he had taken my advice and had removed the emerald ring from his hand. As for myself, I had worn a hood—just to be safe.

We made our way inside, where the hostess led us to a table in a private corner of the restaurant that was cordoned off with privacy screens. As we took our seats, I said, “I take it you’re not worried about us being recognized.”

Jaxon smirked and gestured around us. “I own the place. My staff have the utmost discretion, I assure you. Cameras are prohibited.”

That was a relief, I supposed. I removed my hood as we settled in, feeling bold enough to show off my white hair since it was just the two of us.

Jaxon glanced at my hair, but didn’t say anything about it. Instead, he leaned across the table.

“That crest you had me investigate belongs to a pack up north. Have you heard of the Silverclaws?”

I frowned, pursing my lips, and shook my head. “It doesn’t ring a bell.”

Jaxon nodded and leaned back in his chair as if he expected that response. “I didn’t think it would. It took a lot of digging to find it; it’s a very small pack that hasn’t been formally recognized by the Council.”

I nodded slowly and twirled a strand of hair around my finger. “So they’re rogues.”

It was true; wolves who hadn’t been formally accepted by the Alpha Council, which was comprised of all major eight packs in the territories, were typically rogues. Anyone who lived outside the major packs were usually vagabonds, living off the land, far from civilization—many of them had even lost their human forms ages ago and had given in to their primal sides.

But Jaxon held up a finger. “Now now, let’s not assume anything. We don’t know that yet. If they have a seal like this, they might be more civilized than we think. They could have a leader, maybe even a small militia—which is unheard of amongst rogues.”

I furrowed my brow at that. “We’ll have to follow this lead, then. I need to know everything.” I didn’t outright tell Jaxon that I had a feeling that Natalie was still alive and potentially hiding with this so-called pack in the north. And I wouldn’t tell a soul until I found out for certain. My goal was to find her before she fabricated her “rebirth” and expose that she had faked her own death. That way, she wouldn’t get a chance to accuse me of anything.

Jaxon studied me for a minute over his glass of wine. “Does Killian know about this?” he suddenly asked.

“You’re a smart man. You should know by now what Killian thinks of the idea of you and I working together.”

Jaxon nodded slowly, no doubt recalling Killian’s outburst at the auction. “So I take it there’s trouble in paradise. Can’t say I’m surprised, exactly, but—”

“Watch yourself,” I cut him off, shooting him a hard glare. “Even a fox like you should know when to not stick his snout in business that doesn’t concern him.”

Jaxon held up both hands in surrender, although there was a mischievous gleam in those yellow eyes. “I’m just curious, that’s all. Although I’d be lying if I said I’m not mostly curious just to see what the look on his face might be if he knew about our… meetings. The other night clearly struck a nerve for him.”

My jaw ticked at the reminder of the other night, but it was the traitorous skip of my heart in my chest that really struck me—if Killian was that mad about a conversation in public with Jaxon, then what about an intimate dinner at an establishment like this?

Or even worse, what about his mate working with his arch rival?

Would he be more angry or more jealous?

I hated the way that thinking of Killian’s deep growl when he felt so jealous he might shift and tear into Jaxon’s throat right then and there filled me with a little jolt of thrill. I pushed it back down, hoping Jaxon wouldn’t see the excitement on my face.

“If you want any more information from me,” I said, “then I’d suggest not pushing your luck. Otherwise it’ll lead to mutual destruction.”

Jaxon looked like he very much wanted to push a little more just to get a rise out of me, but he restrained himself and pulled a small notepad and a pen out of his pocket. “Very well. I’ll write down everything I know about Silverclaw.”

I nodded, watching as he wrote down the clues he had unearthed. My eyes caught his pen, and I found myself entranced by the small lilac-colored gemstone that was perched on top. It was a surprisingly delicate pen for such a large, brutish man. But I supposed he liked delicate things, like foxes and rabbits and pretty emerald rings.

Jaxon finished writing and tore the page out, folding it, then handed it to me. When he caught me staring at his pen, he smirked and held it out. “Here. You can have the pen, too.”

I hesitated. “Why? It’s your pen.”

Jaxon simply pressed it into my palm and curled my fingers around it. His hand was warm and surprisingly smooth. “Consider it a gift. And maybe, when you decide to dump Killian and find yourself lonely at night, you’ll look at the pen and remember the man who understood that snow hares change the color of their fur not out of fear, but rather profound intelligence.”

…

I returned late again that night, my feet sore from a day of running around. Jaxon had treated me to dinner after our initial meeting, and so I didn’t need to worry about cooking or waiting for one of the staff to make me something. The house was dark anyway, everyone already having gone to sleep.

That was why I didn’t expect Jaxon to be sitting in my bedroom when I flicked on the light.

“Jaxon!” I gasped, clasping my hand over my heart when I saw him sitting in my armchair. “What are you doing awake? It’s past midnight.”

“I could ask you the same thing.” He rose from his chair, and it was then that I noticed he had his hands carefully hidden behind his back.

I took a step backwards out of instinct, recalling all too well the way those hands had choked the life from me once before. “I was busy. Lots of catching up to do after years of not performing my Luna duties.”

He tilted his head. “Is that so? What were you doing, exactly?”

“That’s my business,” I retorted. I folded my arms. “What do you want?”

For a moment, I thought Killian might argue, judging from the way his jaw clenched and his black eyes flashed in the dim light. Here, with no fire flickering in the fireplace, his eyes only seemed to absorb the lamplight and turn even darker, like twin black holes eating the stars.

But to my surprise, his voice softened and he simply said, “I only worry about my mate’s safety, Elena.”

Before I could wrap my head around his unexpectedly soft voice and kind words, he pulled a small silver gift box out from behind his back.

“In case you forgot, our mate anniversary is coming up,” he said, holding the box out. “I got you a gift.”