Thirteen-year-old Linda, who still had not learned how cruel humans could be when faced with difference. It started with small incidents—friends forgetting to invite her to outings or parties…being snubbed by those who once gathered around her to laugh and gossip. One night, Damien was passing her room and heard her sobbing inside, releasing the tears she never showed during the day. It was the first time he realized how quickly she had had to grow up.
Why the hell did she go to the party that night?
“They are still my friends,” she’d insisted. She’d convinced herself it was a misunderstanding that would be cleared once her friends realized she was not a threat—that she was the same Linda they’d hung out with for months.
She had been so desperate to belong…desperate to be normal.
But just two hours later, father received a call on his mobile…Linda on the other side, sobbing and begging him to pick her up.
As Damien and his mother waited for them to return, that hour was the longest he spent. And when father walked in, there was anger on his face when he looked at Damien. It was the only time Damien felt his parents blamed him for what had happened. Behind father, stood Linda, her lip busted, eye blackened and tears mingling with blood. Linda…his little sister…
Damien had instantly semi-shifted, his claws coming out and teeth elongating into fangs. He would tear apart whoever had touched her…
But father took him by the shoulders and pinned him against the sofa, his own teeth and nails elongated. “You have done enough, son. Don’t make this any more difficult.”
Mother had clutched to Linda, terrified, as if this was the moment Damien would go out there in his wolf form and get himself killed. Hadn’t he caused them enough pain? So he’d closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to calm his mind.
“It is over,” said father, his voice a low growl. “We leave here tomorrow. Do you understand?”
For a moment, the thought had flashed through Damien’s mind. Iris… He would never see her again…
He had never hated himself more than at that moment. They had to leave this town and start over…his baby sister had been sent home with her face bloodied, and he was thinking of the girl—a human—who had reduced them to this? When he should be thinking of his family’s safety, like any other wolf would.
“Wherever we go, it will always be like this,” spat Linda. “I wish I wasn’t a fucking wolf. I hate myself!”
They shouldn’t have paid for my mistake…
Damien threw the wine down his throat, trying to shut out the memories.
When they left Bay Hill, he truly thought he would never see Iris again…there was nothing between them but a few good fucks, he told himself. But as if the fates played a joke, she had entered his life again.
When she walked into his office, he had released his anger at her, but underneath that was something else. He still…wanted her.
No, he wouldn’t have anything to do with a human, especially not one who had nearly ruined his family. She was gone from his life and would stay there.
But his instinct betrayed him, and at the thought of not seeing her again, pressure pounded in his ears, his head tightening until it became an ache.
He slammed his hand on the wood coffee table, claws extending until they scraped the varnish. He closed his eyes and meditated, the way he was taught when he was a child. Colors flashed before him, indicating the practice was working…and then relief as his nails returned to a human length.
He had to see Iris again…if he hadn’t sensed her need for him, he might have been able to let it go. But now he had to know that the woman she had become didn’t hold the same pull for him as the girl he once loved. He needed to know that the connection they once shared was gone. Forever. And there was only one way to do that.
He picked up his mobile, wondering if it was too late to contact Fatima. Hell, she was the one who wanted something from him, wasn’t she? But still, he sent her a message instead of calling her. Any chance of a chat regarding the funds?
When she called immediately, he got straight to the point. “I am considering your request. Could you send your representative for another meeting tomorrow morning?”
“Of course. What time will be convenient?”
“10 o’clock.”
“I’ll make sure she’s there. And thank you—”
“Good night.”
He leaned forward so his head was in his hands.
He would meet Iris again and do what it took to get her out of his system.
Maybe then I can truly be free of her.
CHAPTER FOUR
* * *
IRIS AWAKENED TO A ZILLION text messages and several missed calls from Fatima. What the hell’s going on?
She glanced at the clock, a small digital number sat on the bedside table. As usual, she had awakened before the alarm went off, unable to sleep for more than an hour or so at a time. The insomnia had become a permanent fixture, and she’d learned to live with it.
Her mobile flashed, drawing her attention. Another call from Fatima. Anxiety spread through her stomach. Bad news? Was the project to be closed? No, damn it. They had put too much work into it.
She rubbed her eyes and then reached for her phone. Even lifting her head was a chore, so she sank back against the pillow as she spoke to Fatima.
“I’ve been trying to get hold of you all night, Iris!”
“You know I always leave my phone on silent mode.” She had enough trouble sleeping without answering calls in the middle of the night.
“I figured. Anyway, how quickly can you get to the office?”
“Has something happened?”
“Big time. Damien Kareel contacted me last night.” Why? To tell Fatima how Iris made a mess of the pitch and shouldn’t be allowed near any fundraising efforts in future? “It sounds like he might be on board, Iris. You need to be at his office at 10.”
“Are you sure?” After the reception he gave her yesterday, Iris would have thought he never wanted to see her again.
“Of course I’m sure. Why the hell would he call me if he wasn’t? Do you think that guy doesn’t have better things to do with his time?”
A man at the head of one of the largest investment firms in Boston? Yes, Iris imagined he had much better things to do with his time. So why was he wasting that precious time initiating meetings with the fundraiser for a project barely off the ground?
“Your meeting with him is at 10 o’clock. It’d be great if you can pop by the office first so we can go over some details…see if there’s anything we can do to bump up the proposal and make it more attractive. You know how it is—we have to put in whatever effort we can at this point. So if you could get here for 8 instead of 9, it would make a huge difference.”
Iris sighed, glancing at the clock, the hell load of stuff she would have to rearrange whizzing through her head. But it could be done, and this was a one-off…and if this was the only chance to get their project off the ground, she had to make it happen. “Fine, Fatima. I’ll be there.”
She pulled off her cotton shorts and vest top on the way to the en-suite bathroom. Inside, she turned on the shower, letting it run until it turned tepid before she stood under it. It was an old heating system, one that meant she could never quite get the water to an ideal temperature. It was either too hot or too damn cold. Today, she went for the colder option. It had been another sleepless night, and she needed the cold shock.