Moon Glamour by Aimee Easterling (books to read to be successful TXT) 📕

to be forgotten. Even the corridor turned silent, no footsteps or voices for what felt like an eternity. Finally, a bustle of activity prompted me to press my ear against the door. This time, I intended to make a break for it. Surprise the clothes bearer as she came in, then use her as a hostage to get myself out.

But no one came. And after fifteen minutes of activity, the hall went silent. Ten seconds later, the lights went out.

It had been a full day since I’d eaten, my wolf reminded me. No wonder she stole my body as the room plunged into darkness.

Our stomach clenched painfully. So I didn’t argue when she snapped up a skittery insect, swallowing it down legs and all. She sniffed for a while after that without further success, then scrabbled at the faucet until the water streamed out.

She didn’t drink though. I’d done that already in human form. Instead, she splattered liquid all over the floor.

Which made no sense...until it did. Spilled water attracted additional insects. I couldn’t see what kind they were in the darkness, a fact for which I was profoundly grateful. But I couldn’t block out the minutes during which my wolf hunted, listening for the tiny scritch of legs on concrete. We swallowed enough bugs to take the edge off our hunger, then we fell asleep once again pressed up against the door.

“It’s Monday,” I guessed when the lights came on a second time, my body human albeit clad in a dress that had been stretched out of proportion by a night spent four-legged. If the lights followed a usual day/night cycle, then I had multiple items on my agenda for the next few hours. I needed to call my bank and make sure Marina’s zeroes had been accurate so the check I’d given the Highlands secretary wouldn’t bounce. Monday was also when my stepfather expected a cash infusion. And, tomorrow, Lupe expected us back at camp.

I pounded on the door rather than waiting for someone to show up with clothes I had no intention of wearing. Passing footsteps hesitated then kept on walking. I picked up the phone but no operator answered. There wasn’t even a dial tone.

Within half an hour, silence enfolded the hallway just like it had done yesterday. The door didn’t respond to my attempts to batter it open. There was no window to crawl through. Nothing with which to pick the lock.

In fact, this room seemed newer than I’d realized on first inspection. The cinderblock walls boasted no loose mortar. There were no handy cracks to pry apart.

Soft footsteps intruded upon my consideration of the construction timeline. A woman with no guard behind her? I suspected I could take a lone woman without the element of surprise, so I didn’t hide behind the door the way I’d intended to. Instead, I straightened my dress and pasted a smile on my face.

The woman who entered winced when she looked at me. Maybe my smile was more of a grimace? Or maybe it was the wildness of my hair and eyes.

Either way, she gestured for me to follow her out into the hallway. “No mandatory clothing change?” I asked, and she merely shook her head mutely. “Where are we going?” I prodded.

I almost thought she wasn’t going to answer, which was fine. Because we were no longer down in the barracks area. We’d climbed a set of stairs and started down a hallway with actual paint on the walls rather than bare cinderblock.

But my guide did answer. Glancing at me sideways, she spoke very softly. “You have a visitor. Tall, dark”—her face twisted—“but not handsome.”

The doors along this hall weren’t metal fire doors, impervious to all but a battering ram. They were instead polished hardwood with fancy doorknobs. As old and stylish as the downstairs was ugly and new.

I barely paid attention, though. Because I knew who fit that description.

My guide opened a door into a sunlit study. After days cooped up in the dank basement, light streaming through the windows and colorful trees outside should have swallowed all of my attention.

Instead, I had eyes for only one person. The man lounging in a padded armchair. To me, he was beyond handsome. He was beautiful.

My cheeks stretched with the force of my gladness. “Tank.”

Chapter 29

Vaguely, I noted that my guide had left and closed the door behind her. But I didn’t bother to check whether I’d been locked in yet again. Instead, my entire body expanded as if it had been filled with helium. I crossed the intervening space like Harper racing for an ice-cream cone.

But Tank didn’t look at me. Rowan did from behind a gleaming mahogany desk, a fleeting glance. Then he dismissed my presence and kept talking to Tank.

“Nodes don’t move,” the alpha growled, brows drawn together in what could have been annoyance or confusion.

Tank shrugged. “I didn’t think so either. But Lupe’s the boss and Lupe says the node is now here. In your territory. She recommends your entire pack vacate the premises until after Samhain....”

His reasoning was cut off by Rowan’s hand gesture. “We’re not running away.”

“Have you forgotten what happened three years ago?”

I had no idea what had happened three years ago, but Rowan clearly did because the intensity of his gaze averted. A lapse in alpha dominance, one Tank could easily have pounced upon.

Instead, the scarred male glanced in my direction as if only now noticing I’d entered. The tilt of his head suggested vague interest in my presence, but—hidden from Rowan’s view—his eyes told a very different story.

Irises flashed yellow. Wolf. Alert, focused.

My own inner animal responded, pushing me into his personal space. My hands rose without my permission, seeking contact....

And Tank’s eyes shuttered. Rather than reciprocating, he twisted slightly so his hand could reach mine shielded by the back of the armchair. Something slid into my fingers, something I didn’t twist my head to look at.

After all, Rowan was focused on us, interested in