I take a deep breath, focusing my attention on my words. “Jack, you need to take our handcuffs off.”
Jack’s gaze drills into mine. He doesn’t move; he just watches me from the kitchen counter. I try again. “Jack, come over here and unlock our chains.”
He steps toward me, the veins in his neck straining and his eyes darting back and forth. “That’s right. Keep coming. Let us free.”
He moves quicker, his boots pounding against the wood floor as he gets closer until he reaches us and kneels, digging in his pocket to retrieve the handcuff key.
Power rushes through my veins. I’m doing this. I’m controlling Jack with my mind. He might think I’m not powerful enough because of how little werewolf blood runs through my veins, but he’s wrong. I don’t know how, but I can control minds, even while locked in silver chains.
Cameron chuckles. “God, I love you,” he says as Jack removes his handcuffs. Cameron pulls his arms free and examines his wrists.
My heart swells. I don’t know if he means it seriously, but it’s the first time he’s said it. Sure, we’re mates—destined for each other, but love—love is a choice. In this moment, I know I love him. It’s crazy and so fast, but I know.
It happens quickly. I must have focused too much on Cameron’s words and lost my hold on Jack’s mind. I struggle against my chains, straining my neck to see what’s happening behind me. All I can hear is skin against skinand heavy breathing. “Jack, stop!” I yell, but it’s too late. I can’t reach him anymore; his rage makes it too slippery to sink in my talons.
Jack’s hands are around Cameron’s throat, but the struggle only lasts momentarily. The change happens in an instant. The chair snaps underneath Cameron from his new weight and power.
Granny wakes from beside me, shrieking as she witnesses Cameron in his werewolf form, sinking his teeth into Jack's jugular, blood spraying from his mouth and gurgling his screams.
37
Big Bad Wolf
Ican’t take my eyes away from his bloodied body. Cameron hasn’t left my side, his hands shifting from my shoulder to my waist to my back as he speaks with the police. At first, I think I’m numb—the shock of watching someone I loved for so long die right before my eyes. But it’s not that. I search every corner of my heart, trying to find a feeling, but there’s nothing. I did love him, but after everything that happened—that love is like a wilted rose—only the thorns remain.
A small part of me feels sorry for him. He’d spent his life brainwashed by his psycho father and their cult, but he threatened to rape me and kill my mate. How could Ifeel sorry for him? How else could this have ended without living a life in fear? I’m not angry at Cameron, although I’d rather him not have murdered Jack in Granny’s kitchen—he didn’t have a choice.
“Ma’am, we have some questions,” the police officer knocks me out of my trance in a tone that suggests this isn’t the first time he’s said this to me. I tear my eyes away from Jack as they cover him with a black sheet and turn my attention to Sergeant Brick, wearing a linen-pressed suit, his badge on his lapel, his smokey eyes pinning me in place.
“What?” I say, crossing my arms over my chest.
Cameron inches closer to me, wrapping his hand tightly around my hip.
Sergeant Brick clears his throat. “I need you to tell me what happened here?”
“Why? So you can pretend that it didn’t happen and that the werewolves are to blame?”
Brick sighs, flipping open the small notepad he removed from his front pocket. “My job is to examine the evidence. Can you help me do that?”
I throw my arm in the direction of the three chairs and the chains sitting on the floor before bringing my marked wrists up to my face. “Is this not enough evidence that Jack went crazy and strapped us—including my little old Granny to chairs and threatened our lives? Jack was strangling Cameron and threatened to rape me.”
“I see, ma’am, but your Grandmother has no recollection of the events, and I can’t just take Mr. Badson’s word for it.”
I glance over at Granny, sitting at the kitchen table, the paramedics shining a light into her eyes. Granny woke up when Cameron ripped Jack’s throat out, but in only a few seconds, she completely forgot what happened or that she was tied up. I should be thankful she won’t be weighed down with the gore and trauma of it all, but my heart aches that she’ll never remember what really happened to her daughter, and I’ll never be able to share a part of myself—my werewolf part—with her.
I sigh, pull the tape recorder out of my pocket, and press the replay button. Jack’s voice sounds around us. “Oh, I’m not going to murder you, my sweet. Remember? You need to produce me an heir. I’m just debating whether I should mutilate him now and keep him alive to watch you carrying my offspring, or if I should end it now.” I turn it off. “Is that good enough for you?” I ask plainly.
“We’re going to need that for evidence,” Brick says, reaching for the tape recorder.
I hand it to him. “Don’t worry; everything is automatically uploaded to the Cloud. If this whole incident isn’t taken seriously, I will share it with someone above your pay grade. I work for the New York Times, remember? I know how to get the word out.”
Brick sighs. “We’re on your side. Navigating between the Hunters, the Weres, and the general public is much more difficult than you think. We’re operating in secrecy and amid a century-old rivalry.” He holds the tape recorder up to me. “This is good. This is what we need to put important people away—to keep people safe. But we’re going to need more.”
“More?” Cameron speaks up, his voice lined with anger.
“Well, would you happen to have recorded details about the Hunter’s meeting place, names of the people involved in the murder of your parents and the people in the clearing, and information on future plans?”
Cameron and I exchange a look. I’d been hoping to get Jack to admit to all of that, but the only person he incriminated was himself and his dead father, and they won’t be a problem for anyone else anymore. I shake my head.
