Years of being with this narcissist have taught me how to play him like a fiddle. Pander to his pride, stroke his ego, make him feel like the big man who's doing a favor for poor, helplessDolly. I know in my heart that I’m the one who got him everything, but he could never admit it. A true narcissist, through and through.
Sita stands frozen, slack-jawed, her eyes wide in disbelief at the sudden change of heart—one she knows doesn’t align with who I am. I have to trust that she will sense my plan and not do anything to give me away.
I turn to her and place the soapberry in her hand. “Here, you might as well take the key to my room back since I won’t be needing it anymore.”
She cocks her head at me, brows furrowing in confusion as she looks down at what I’ve pressed into her hand. She hardens her voice and says, “I don’t want you back anyway if you’re going to join these men.”
I feel her fingers curl around mine, a subtle but telling signal, as she silently accepts the “key” from me. She understands.
“Oh, Dolly,” Ben croons. “You always were a stupid girl. We’re already here. I don’t need you. And I don’t want you. I couldn’t care less that you have nothing to go back to.”
He nods at Sita, triumph shining in his eyes. “And now you’ve got nothing here, either.”
He lets out a cruel laugh, but I lean into my facade and push the farce further.
“Ben,” I cry, pretending to be heartbroken. “You still need to navigate the cave system. You have no idea what that beast is like. I can help you.”
His eyes narrow as he considers my words. Thankfully, all of my field notes were strictly professional, no mention of my relationship with the Yeti, so as far as he knows, what I’m saying is true.
I hesitate, not wanting to overplay my hand but knowing I’m running out of time. I need him to be impulsive, not analytical.
“Ben, I barely escaped with my life. Please, let me help you. I just want to make sure this plant gets turned into medicine. Iam the one who needs it because—” My voice breaks, and I swallow hard before I can continue. “I inherited the gene. You have the power to save my life.”
I didn’t need to act that last part out. It’s my truth.
A smile spreads across his face at the crack in my voice, at my desperate plea. His chest swells with self-importance, and I see the gloating aura settle around him. I’ve won this battle. The war isn’t over yet, but this is the first step.
“You may have escaped with your life, but I heard about the price you paid,” Ben leers at me, lip curled in disgust.
Rage pulses through my veins. How dare he lecture me on morals when he cheated on me in my own house. I should have done more than break the bastard’s nose. I only hope I have a chance to do so now. That thought alone helps me to keep my anger in check and continue this ruse.
“Lucky for you, I’m not a monster. I’m a goodman. Of course, I’ll save your life. The headlines will be incredible. Hell, the PR story will have investors scrambling to fast-track this drug. And my payout. Fine. You lead the way. But make no mistake—I won’t hesitate to kill you. This plant is worth more to me than your life ever did.”
“Of course, Ben. Thank you,” I say, eyes downcast to give the impression of acquiescence—but more importantly, to hide the victory that must be shining in them.
The air changes.
The storm bends, shifting around something larger. Something inevitable. A presence so vast, it makes the mountain feel small. The wolf whimpers as his handler backs away and the other men shift, their breath turning shallow, hands twitching toward their weapons. They don’t see him yet. But they feel him.
A deafening roar, fiercer than an avalanche, shakes the earth. The ground trembles beneath my boots, and the air thickens, charged and waiting.
He is here.
The remaining men close ranks, flanking Ben. When their eyes go round, I don’t need to turn around to know Eryon has appeared behind me. The very air shimmers with his presence, menace and danger radiating off him in waves to collide against my back.
Like the others who quake in terror, my lizard brain screams at me to run. But the fear licks through my veins like fire and pools low in my belly, desire pulsing in my core as I recall the feel of him against my skin, the heat, the lust. To be this close to him again yet so far away is excruciating.
“Sruhnar,” he growls.
I spin to face him, dragging my gaze up his terrifying form, awed at his presence even after we had explored every inch of each other’s bodies. He appears larger and more fearsome than ever with his chest heaving and his luminous quicksilver eyes snapping with frozen fire.
When our gazes meet with the force of an avalanche, I see exquisite pain reflected in their depths and realize he must have heard my ruse.
I hold my hands up, “Er?—”
“Do not say my name,” he snarls, lip curling to reveal his sharp teeth.
Chapter Thirty-Six
