Chapter 18
“That woman who was with you,” the Madame continued. “I recognized her.”
I tried to forget the churning in my stomach as she spoke. “Who? Crystal?”
“She was there the night I… procured these pelts.”
My mind slowly put everything together, piece by horrific piece. Though I wanted to look anywhere else, my eyes were glued to the wolf pelts in grotesque interest, like there was something missing I was on the very verge of understanding.
“What are you talking about?” Ramsay growled.
Crystal… The two wolf shifter pelts…
I gasped sharply. “No. Oh, no.”
“What?” Ramsay demanded.
The words wouldn’t come out. Refused to come out. “Those are… That’s…”
The Madame sighed and closed the lid of the chest, putting them out of view. “These pelts belong to two pack leaders that lived ten years ago.” She met my eyes deliberately. “The parents of the current pack leader, I believe.”
My heart hammered in a sickly, panicked way. Illness welled inside me and it was a wonder I didn’t throw up.
The furs in that chest--they belonged to Eric’s parents.
Ramsay stood and lunged at the Madame, grabbing her by the front of her leather coat. “What the hell? Why do you have those?” he snapped.
She let Ramsay lift her off the ground, not reacting.
“Stop, Ramsay,” I yelled. “Don’t.”
He exhaled angrily and let her go. He stood in front of me, bristling and furious.
“Why did you show us?” I asked.
“So you know exactly who I am before agreeing to my offer,” the Madame said evenly. There was no coldness or malice in her tone--it was completely neutral.
“Why should Matheson help you?” Ramsay snarled. “You’re a wolf killer! Hell, those are Eric’s parents, for fuck’s sake! The grandparents of Matheson’s child!”
I winced as if struck. The words sounded so ugly and brutal--the truthwasugly and brutal.
I didn’t know if it was my imagination or not, but I thought the Madame’s eyes softened, just slightly.
“It was an impossibly difficult winter,” she said quietly. “We wouldn’t have survived otherwise. I’m sorry.”
“Shut up,” Ramsay growled.
“Stop,” I said, gently touching his arm. “Please.”
“Mathe, aren’t you angry?” he demanded. “She killed your mate’s parents!”
My eyes widened and I snapped, “Stop it, Ramsay!”
We both went silent, as tense as a taut string.
“Don’t think I’m stupid or naive just because I don’t want to attack her for this,” I muttered to him. “It won’t bring them back.”
His green eyes blazed with fury for a moment before the fire dimmed into a dull pain. He sighed and turned away. “I know.”
