Page 9 of Make Me
Chapter 3
TALON
She’s here. My mate. The one I’ve spent decades looking for. The only job I couldn’t finish—until now. She’s in this house, in that damn dress, and she just walked away from me like I’m nothing. Like there wasn’t a spark between us. Like the world didn’t shift the second our eyes met. Like fate didn’t scream her name into my soul.
I don’t know how that’s possible, but I’ll be damned if I don’t find out.
The bond pulses inside me like a second heartbeat, too loud and alive. My wolf is clawing beneath the surface, thrashing with an intensity I haven’t felt since our first assignment. He doesn’t understand, he doesn’t want patience. He wants hernow.
But I don’t let him break free. Not yet.
Something’s wrong. And I won’t leave this place until I know what that is.
I trail her through the ballroom like a shadow stitched to her heels. I keep my distance, forcing myselfto remain a ghost amongst the crowd, but my gaze never leaves her. I don’t think itcan. She’s like gravity now—an anchor and a riptide all at once.
For years, I was the name whispered in fear. The best tracker the supernatural world had ever seen. But that was before. Before I gave up the hunt and started chasing the only thing that’s ever really mattered.
My mate.
Only she remained hidden, unknown to me. My world darkened with every year that passed without her in it. And now?
Now, I’ve touched her skin, breathed in her scent—jasmine and spice with a wild twist—and looked into those green eyes that burn brighter than any emerald I’ve ever seen.
There’s no leaving her now. Not for me. Not for the beast that lives beneath my skin. Not without tearing apart everything in our way.
Whatever it takes for her to feel what’s currently coursing through me, I’ll do it. Hell, I’ll destroy the world to give her clarity because I needher.
She moves swiftly through the ballroom, weaving between the clusters of patrons like she was born of the stars and crafted in defiance. Her hair is wildfire threaded with copper, catching sparks from the chandeliers above. Her dress clings like magic—dark, shimmering, and edged in rebellion. She wears it like she’s ready for war.
And me? I’d fall on that battlefield without hesitation.
She turns down a hallway lined with soft goldensconces, the air subtly cooler and quieter here. This corridor leads toward the entertainment room, and she seems to be headed there with intent. Is she meeting someone? Another male?
A low growl starts in my throat.
If someone else touches her—if another so much asbrushesagainst her—my control won’t just snap. It’ll shatter.
I wait a beat. Two. Then follow.
The room beyond is a surreal blend of indulgence and illusion. It stretches wide, high ceilings draped in enchanted silk that glistens with every breath of movement. Card tables sparkle like stardust under hovering orbs of silver light. A trio of sirens sing on a center stage, their voices a melodic trap laced with compulsion that seems to be easing the tension in my shoulders. The far wall is mesmerizing—a living mural that shifts between icy landscapes, celestial storms, and flames blooming like flowers.
But I don’t see any of it for more than a heartbeat.
My focus is locked on the only thing that matters.
She’s pacing near a marble column wrapped in vines that pulse with faint silver light. Her shoulders are tight, her posture brittle. One hand clutches a glowing drink—Moonlit Venom, if I heard the bartender right—and her lips move in a whispered rant, seemingly meant for no one other than herself.
Even from across the room, I feel the storm swirling inside her. Frustration. Confusion. Anger.
Still, I move closer.
Her head snaps around before I get within ten feet. “Are you following me?”
I stop immediately, hands up in surrender. “I didn’t mean to?—”
“You didn’t mean to?” she repeats, one brow arching like a blade, a humorless laugh following. “Youaccidentallytrailed me across a room full of supernaturals? Is that what I’m supposed to believe?” Her eyes flick over my body like she’s scanning for weapons. “Because I really don’t want this tonight. I’m not here for?—”
Now it’s my turn to cut her off since she clearly doesn’t sense the mate bond. But the way her gaze keeps drifting to my mouth, down my chest, then back up, tells me something’s registering beneath the surface. She just doesn’t know what it is.
