Camille’s throat tightened. Doubt and experience told her that sentimentality would only hurt her in the end. So why did she continue trudging through the sand, following a path seared into her memory, to meet the man who could steal her future with the smallest touch of his hand?
Because hope is tenacious.
It held her in its claws no matter how hard she tried to shake herself free. No matter how many times she tried to talk herself out of meeting him, all Camille could see and hear was Viktor’s stricken expression, his ragged voice when he begged to meet her, and the hasty scrawl on that cheap piece of paper.
That was not the roguish, mischievous young man she’d known. That boy would have simply outmaneuvered her, found some way to trick her into seeing him again. He wouldn’t have begged simply because he didn’t feel like he had to, not when he intended to use that easy confidence to get what he wanted.
ButthisViktor, a seasoned alpha with twenty years of growth between then and now,asked.
And that was why she couldn’t refuse.
Camille cinched her coat more tightly around her waist as she crested a familiar rise. Twenty years had done very little to change the landscape of this secluded stretch of the Merced pack’s private beach. Jagged sandstone cliffs loomed over the windswept coast, creating small alcoves insulated from the salty wind. Greenery, leathery and plump with stored water, was a thick carpet over the tops of the cliffs. Vibrant pink and purple blooms dotted the strange, stubborn plantlife clinging to inhospitable sand.
She was intimately familiar with all of it. Not even twenty years could tarnish the clarity with which she recalled their time together in their own little alcove. The ghost of the thrill of getting caught whispered down her spine as she peered over the ledge, down to where she knew Viktor expected her.
And there he was.
He was shirtless, in only a pair of loose athletic pants, his feet bare and one knee drawn up to his chest. A fire crackled in front of him and, on the other side, a neatly laid out blanket awaited her.
Camille’s breath caught in her throat.Gods, he’s so beautiful.
As if he could hear that tiny sound, Viktor’s head snapped up and swiveled in her direction. He didn’t stand, but she could tell even at that distance that he’d tensed, the muscles and sinews of his finely honed body coiled and ready to spring.
She felt his eyes on her as she gathered her courage and slowly picked her way through the foliage to stand at the edge of the cliff.It’s now or never, Cammie.
It was her last chance to decide to trust the man he’d become or listen to reason and run back to the safe misery she’d left.
The scent of decaying ocean life and brine filled her nose as the wind rippled around her. Somewhere in the distance, a ghostly, warbling call went up — a warning to any being foolish enough to step into the water. Full dark had settled in, and now the water folk were free to do as they pleased in their territory.
Her pulse thrummed in her ears. Instinct said one thing while her head said another. One side promised a chance at happiness; the other a lifetime of cold safety.
I’m a Solbourne,she thought, firming her jaw.We don’t back down from a challenge and we are no fucking cowards.
Camille took a step back, bent her knees, and jumped off of the cliff.
She landed the nearly two hundred foot drop in a graceful crouch, her elvish bones and muscle taking the impact into the damp, packed sand with ease. Pebbles crunched under the soles of her shoes as she stood.
“For fuck’s sake,” she heard Viktor growl, nearly matching the timbre of the roaring waves, “are you trying to give me a heart attack?”
Camille felt a grin rising, but forced it down. Turning slowly, ever cautious of the direction of the wind, she found Viktor standing by the fire several feet away. His fists were clenched by his sides, knuckles white and his eyes blazing. “What? Have you never seen a woman land a two hundred foot jump before?”
“A little warning next time, that’s all I ask.” Viktor propped his hands on his lean hips, his expression forbidding. He looked damn good. All sharp lines and sloping muscle carved by a lifetime of vigorous activity, he couldn’t have been more perfect even if she’d conjured him herself.
The fact that a faint sheen of sweat caught the firelight and illuminated every delicious, lickable inch of him didn’t hurt, either. Desire threatened to seize her, but Camille forced it down.
“Did you run here?” she asked, walking the long way around to avoid even a hint of his scent on the wind.
Viktor watched her with an unblinking stare — all coyote gold. “Yeah. Needed to release some tension.”
“But you aren’t wearing shoes.” She was only ten feet from the fire now, and her voice echoed strangely against the sandstone walls that closed in around her. Between them, the fire crackled merrily. Smoke curled up and away, toward Viktor, before it was swept out into the night.
She took a deep breath. There was no delicious musk or scent of clean, sweet skin. With the wind whipping toward him, carrying his scent away from her, there was only the salty ocean spray and that distinct note of ocean decay that clung to the sand.
He watched as she slowly lowered herself onto the blanket. Relief gleamed in his predator’s eyes. “I shifted,” he explained, easing himself back down onto the sand. She glanced down in time to see his fingers curl into the grains, as if clutching them might steady himself. “Carried everything with me in a pack. Figured the fire would help keep everything safe.”
“Safe?” She blinked. “From what?”
Camille struggled to imagine any predator stupid enough to attack a fully grown elfandan alpha shifter. Unless they came with a unit bursting with weapons, it would be an extremely bad idea for their health and continued existence on Burden’s Earth.
