After the war, London is in chaos.
Packs are battling it out for dominance in the streets, lycans are killing each other in illegal fight dens. The Royals are being murdered.
All Juliet wants to do is forget - forget Sebastien, forget the wa...
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The sides of the cardboard box started to cave in.
I glanced down as my fingers sank into the material, shredding straight through it like it was made of tissue. Suspicion twisted my gut and even as I knew the box was seconds from falling apart, my fingers were still curling into fists, my control inching closer and closer to breaking point.
I couldn't shake the feeling that he was playing us — playing me.
Why the hell would he just give me a weapon? I tried to remember exactly what happened that night from the moment we left TDN, but all I could focus on was how he'd given chase.
Shot at me.
Hunted me.
"I mean it this time, Juliet. Stay away..."
"Thomas," Michael said in a low voice as our group spilled out into the carpark. "Theo and Juliet are with you. If you run into any trouble..."
"I know," Thomas returned with a deferential nod. He touched my elbow, attempting to steer me toward his car, but I knocked his hand away.
"I can walk," I snarled.
Michael eyes narrowed warningly in my direction and it took everything I had not to hurl the damn box at him and say, "Fuck this." I bristled with anger as my nails dug into the cardboard even more, sending little pieces of brown the ground in a flurry.
Theo, Theo, Theo...
He stared at me at me for a long moment, his expression shuttered and cold before he finally said in a hard voice, "I'll deal with you later."
Even though I was beyond pissed off, I would have been an idiot not to recognise the threat in his voice. I gritted my teeth and twisted around, my spine rigid and my grip on the cardboard so tight that both sides were in tatters.
I could pick my battles and right then, 'Later' sounded like a promise.
Thomas guided me to a second car along with Theo, Rhys and another guy called Arran. I shoved the box on top of the other bits and pieces that had been piled into the boot, wincing as the bottom finally gave out and a shampoo bottle rolled out and fell onto the concrete.
Swearing under my breath, I leaned down to grab it. In my periphery, I watched as Michael climbed lithely into the first car with Mia, who slid into the driver's side. Even through the glass, I could make out the way his face softened when he looked at her, the coldness fading from his eyes.
My anger spiked and I slammed the boot down harder than I intended. Thomas flinched.
The drive back into Michael's territory was tense.
I could feel the nervous energy rolling off Theo in waves. He looked ill and even though the gun was in his pocket, I could tell he was clutching it so hard, there was a possibility he'd dent the metal. Not that it would have done him much good anyway, since Thomas still had the magazine.
