Cashmere and Claws
My hand went to the Glock before I could think.
"Don't." Dominic's voice was barely audible, his fingers closing around my wrist. Not restraining. Warning.
Sienna stepped fully into the light, and I catalogued everything in the space of a heartbeat. Designer jeans that probably cost more than my rent. Cashmere sweater in dove gray. Heels that had no business being in an abandoned lumber mill. Her dark hair was pulled back in a sleek ponytail, not a strand out of place, and her smile was the kind that made you check your pockets to see what she'd already stolen.
"You going to shoot me, Maya?" She tilted her head. "That would be awkward at Thanksgiving."
"What the fuck are you doing here?"
"Language, dear." She stepped aside, gesturing into the building like she was inviting us into her living room. "Come in. We have so much to discuss."
I didn't move. The wolf in me was snarling, hackles raised, every instinct screaming trap. But Sienna just stood there, patient as a spider in its web, and the worst part was the knowing in her eyes. Like she'd expected exactly this reaction.
Dominic's hand was still on my wrist. His pulse hammered against my skin.
"How did you know we'd be here?" His voice had gone cold, formal. The tone he used when he was calculating odds.
"Oh, Dominic." Sienna's smile widened. "I've known about this place for years. Victor used to bring Maya here when she was little, didn't he, sweetheart? Before the accident. Before everything went to hell."
My face hardened. She was fishing, trying to get a reaction, but the mention of Dad and this place in the same sentence made my stomach twist. I'd been here exactly twice as a kid. Once when I was eight, once when I was ten. Both times Dad had told me to wait in the truck while he went inside to "handle business."
I'd never asked what kind of business.
"You're working with whoever sent that message." I kept my voice flat, but my free hand drifted toward the knife on my left thigh. "Right?"
"Working with?" Sienna laughed, light and airy. "Oh, honey. I sent the message."
The world tilted.
Dominic's grip on my wrist tightened, the only thing keeping me from lunging forward. My vision tunneled, the wolf surging up my throat, and for a second all I could see was Sienna's throat and how easy it would be to—
"Breathe." Dominic's voice cut through the red haze. "She wants you angry. Don't give her that."
I sucked in air through my nose. Forced my shoulders down. But my voice came out rough, barely human. "Why?"
"Because you're making a mistake." Sienna's expression shifted, something almost like concern flickering across her face. Almost. "Dominic Thorne is dangerous, Maya. His family has been at war with ours for three generations. Whatever he's told you, whatever you think you feel—"
"You don't know what I feel."
"I know what the bond feels like." Her voice went soft, and that was somehow worse than the condescension. "I know how it tricks you into thinking you've found something real when all you've found is biology. Chemistry. A leash you can't see."
Dominic went very still beside me.
"That's not—" I started, but Sienna cut me off.
"Isn't it?" She took a step forward, and I noticed for the first time that she wasn't alone. Shadows moved behind her in the building, at least three distinct shapes. "Ask him, Maya. Ask him if he would have looked at you twice if you weren't his mate. If the bond hadn't snapped into place and made you irresistible."
"Sienna." Dominic's voice was a warning. "This is beneath you."
"Is it?" She looked at him now, and something passed between them that I couldn't read. Old history. Old wounds. "You've always been so good at justifying your choices, Dominic. Tell me, have you explained to her yet what happens when a mate bond is rejected? What it does to the wolf?"
My stomach dropped. "What?"
"He didn't mention that part?" Sienna's eyebrows rose in mock surprise. "How it feels like dying? How some wolves go feral from the pain? How the human side fractures trying to hold on while the wolf tears itself apart?"
I looked at Dominic. His jaw was set, eyes fixed on Sienna, and he wasn't denying it.
"That's why you've been so careful," I said slowly. "Why you kept pushing me away."
"Maya—"
"You weren't protecting me from your enemies." The pieces were clicking into place, sharp and cutting. "You were protecting me from you. From what would happen if I said no."
"It's more complicated than—"
"Is it true?"
He met my eyes finally, and what I saw there made my chest ache. Guilt. Shame. Fear.
"Yes," he said. "But that's not why I—"
"Touching, isn't it?" Sienna's voice dripped poison. "He's so noble. So self-sacrificing. But here's what he won't tell you, dear. The bond doesn't care about your choices. It doesn't care if you want it or not. Once it's there, once you've acknowledged it, rejecting it becomes exponentially harder. More painful. More dangerous."
"Shut up." My voice came out flat.
"I'm trying to help you."
"By threatening me? By stalking my house?" I took a step forward, and this time Dominic let me. "You want to help? Tell me what the fuck is really going on. Tell me why Dad's so desperate to keep me away from Dominic. Tell me what happened at this mill that has everyone so goddamn scared."
Sienna's smile faded. For the first time since she'd appeared, she looked uncertain.
"You don't know," she said softly. "Victor didn't tell you."
"Tell me what?"
She glanced past me, into the darkness where Dominic's people were positioned. Calculating. Then she sighed, and it sounded almost genuine.
"Come inside," she said. "Both of you. I'll show you."
The interior of the mill was worse than the outside. Water damage had warped the floorboards, and the smell of mold was thick enough to taste. Industrial equipment sat rusting in corners, and the walls were covered in graffiti and old bloodstains that could have been from animals or something worse.
Sienna led us through the main floor to a door I hadn't noticed from outside. Metal, reinforced, with a keypad lock that looked brand new.
"This was installed three months ago," she said, punching in a code. "After someone broke in and found what Victor had been hiding."
The door swung open. Stairs led down into darkness.
"You've got to be kidding me," I muttered.
"I'll go first." Dominic moved past me, and I caught his arm.
"Your people can't help us down there."
"I know." He looked at Sienna. "If this is a trap—"
"Then you'll kill me, and my people will kill Maya, and we'll all die in this miserable place." Sienna's voice was matter-of-fact. "But it's not a trap, Dominic. I'm trying to prevent a war."
"By starting one?"
"By showing you why it's already started."
She descended the stairs. Dominic followed, and after a moment, so did I. My hand stayed on the Glock, and the wolf in me was screaming to run, but I needed to know. Whatever was down here, whatever Dad had been hiding, I needed to see it.
The stairs ended in a basement that had been converted into something else. Something clinical. Fluorescent lights flickered on as Sienna hit a switch, revealing a space that looked more like a lab than a storage room. Stainless steel tables. Refrigeration units. Computers. And along one wall, filing cabinets that stretched from floor to ceiling.
"What is this?" My voice echoed in the concrete space.
"Your father's insurance policy." Sienna walked to the nearest filing cabinet and pulled out a folder. "He's been documenting everything for twenty years. Every pack in the territory. Every alpha. Every bloodline. Strengths, weaknesses, alliances, feuds. He's got dirt on everyone, Maya. Enough to destroy any pack he wants."
She held out the folder. I took it, hands shaking, and opened it.
The first page was a photograph of a man I didn't recognize. Handwritten notes covered the margins. Affair with human woman, 2003. Illegitimate child, location unknown. Vulnerable to blackmail.
I flipped to the next page. Another photo, another set of notes. This one detailed a financial scandal. The next, a murder that had been covered up.
"He's been collecting this for two decades," Sienna said quietly. "Building leverage. Making sure no one could touch him or his pack without risking exposure."
"Why?" The word came out strangled.
"Because he's terrified." She pulled out another folder, and this one she handed to Dominic. "Of you. Of what your family did to his."
Dominic opened the folder. His face went pale.
"What is it?" I moved closer, trying to see, but he closed it before I could.
"Sienna." His voice was dangerous. "Where did you get this?"
"From the same place Victor got it. From the same source that's been feeding him information for twenty years." She looked at me. "Your mother, Maya. Before she died, she was investigating the Thorne pack. She found something. Something that got her killed."
The floor dropped out from under me.
"That's not—" I couldn't breathe. "The attack was random. Rogues. Dad said—"
"Victor lied." Sienna's voice was gentle now, almost kind, and I hated her for it. "The rogues were hired. Paid to make it look like a random attack. But your mother was the target, Maya. She'd gotten too close to the truth."
I looked at Dominic. He was staring at the folder in his hands like it was a live grenade.
"What truth?" I whispered.
He didn't answer.
"Dominic." My voice cracked. "What truth?"
"My father," he said finally, "ordered the hit."
I punched him.
My fist connected with his jaw before I'd made the conscious decision to move, and he staggered back, more from surprise than force. The wolf was howling in my head, a sound like tearing metal, and my vision went red at the edges.
"Maya—"
I hit him again. This time he blocked, catching my wrist, but I used the momentum to drive my knee toward his stomach. He twisted, and we went down in a tangle of limbs, my elbow cracking against the concrete floor hard enough to send sparks of pain up my arm.
"Let me explain—"
"Your father killed my mother!" The words ripped out of me, raw and jagged. "You knew. You fucking knew and you—"
"I didn't know." He had both my wrists now, pinning them above my head, his weight holding me down. "Maya, I swear to God, I didn't know until three days ago."
"Liar."
"I'm not lying." His face was inches from mine, and I could see the truth in his eyes. The horror. The guilt. "I found out the same time you got that message. That's why I came to your house. That's why I've been trying to keep you safe."
"Safe?" I bucked against him, but he was stronger, and the bond was making it hard to think, hard to separate rage from the pull that wanted me to stop fighting and just—
No.
I went limp. He loosened his grip, just slightly, and I drove my forehead into his nose.
He swore, blood streaming, and I rolled out from under him. My hand found the knife on my thigh, and I had it out and pressed to his throat before he could recover.
"Give me one reason," I said, "not to kill you right now."
"Because you need him." Sienna's voice cut through the haze. "Because whoever hired those rogues twenty years ago is still out there. Still active. And they're coming for you next."
I didn't take my eyes off Dominic. Blood dripped from his nose onto my blade.
"Why me?" My voice was steady now. Cold. "Mom's been dead for fifteen years. Why come after me now?"
"Because you're asking questions." Sienna moved into my peripheral vision. "Because you're getting close to Dominic, and that's making people nervous. The same people who wanted your mother silenced."
"Who?"
"We don't know yet." Dominic's voice was thick from the blood. "But we're close. That's why I needed you to trust me. Why I needed time to—"
"To what? Use me as bait?" I pressed the knife harder, and a thin line of red appeared on his skin. "Is that what this is? Is that what the bond is for?"
"No." His eyes locked on mine. "The bond is real, Maya. Everything else is complicated, but that's real."
"Prove it."
"How?"
"Tell me what's in the folder."
He went still. Sienna made a small sound of protest, but I ignored her.
"Tell me," I said, "or I walk out of here and you never see me again."
The bond twisted in my chest, sharp and vicious, and I knew he felt it too. Knew what I was threatening. Not just leaving. Rejecting him. Choosing the pain over the truth.
"My father didn't act alone," Dominic said quietly. "He had help. From inside your mother's pack."
The knife wavered. "What?"
"Someone gave him information. Told him where she'd be, when she'd be vulnerable. Someone she trusted." He swallowed, and I felt the movement against the blade. "The folder has names. Dates. Proof."
"Who?"
"Maya—"
"Who?"
He closed his eyes. "Your father was one of them."
The knife clattered to the floor.
I stepped back, and the world tilted sideways. Sienna was saying something, but I couldn't hear her over the roaring in my ears. Dad. Dad had helped kill Mom. Dad had—
"He didn't know they were going to kill her." Dominic was on his feet now, hands raised like I was a spooked animal. "He thought they were just going to scare her. Make her stop investigating. But it went wrong, and—"
"Stop talking."
"Maya—"
"Stop fucking talking!" My voice cracked, and I realized I was crying. When had I started crying? "You're lying. You're both lying. This is some kind of—"
The lights went out.
For a second, there was only darkness and the sound of my own breathing. Then Sienna's voice, sharp and urgent: "We need to move. Now."
"What—"
Gunfire erupted from upstairs. Not the controlled shots of Dominic's people. Automatic weapons. A lot of them.
"They found us," Dominic said, and his hand found mine in the darkness. "The people who killed your mother. They're here."
More gunfire. Closer now. And then screaming.
"There's another way out," Sienna said. "Through the back. But we have to go now."
I couldn't move. Couldn't think. Dad had helped kill Mom. Dominic's father had ordered it. And now someone was upstairs killing Dominic's people, and it was all connected, all part of something bigger and darker than I'd imagined.
Dominic's hand tightened on mine. "Maya. I need you to run."
The door at the top of the stairs exploded inward.
Light flooded down, and silhouetted against it was a figure I recognized. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Moving with the controlled grace of an alpha.
"Hello, Maya," my father said, and he was holding a gun. "Time to come home."