Midnight End

5

Her eyes leisurely strolled down my torso. “Not so bad today as it was yesterday.” “It’s good to see your attitude has changed.” My lips spread wide in an amused grin. “A couple hours ago, you were ready to slit my throat.” I knew what she was doing with her sultry flirting, and I was more than happy to play along. “After I had time to cool down, I realized what you said was true. We did get off on the wrong foot. If you’re going to stay here with me, there’s no reason we can’t be … pleasant.” She inched around the counter, closer to where I leaned against the wall, her eyes never leaving mine. “Your change in outlook wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with me getting you out of here, would it?” My voice was a low rumble as her hand reached up and gently ghosted down the planes of my chest. “Of course, it does,” she admitted. “I know you’re not an i***t, but I also know being ugly to you isn’t going to improve my chances. Believe it or not, I can be rather reasonable.” I lifted my hand to a strand of her hair that had fallen across her eyes and placed it back where it belonged, intentionally swiping my fingers across her forehead. “I hope you understand, it’s hard to believe someone who is well known for their tricks and manipulation.” For a split second, hurt flashed in her unguarded expression before her confident façade was back in place. It had been so seemingly genuine, I almost believed it. The woman was good. Very good. “I doubt there’s anything I can say to change your opinion of me, and I understand that. What I’m asking of you is to consider that it might be possible for us to work together toward a common goal.” This time, her hands traced the width of my shoulders as if straightening non-existent wrinkles, then slid along the contours of my arms. The sensation of her touch aroused a surprisingly strong urge to flip our positions and press my body against hers. I wanted to cage her against the wall where I could taste and savor her. I shook away the image, knowing better than to get caught up in someone like Morgan. “And what, pray tell, could we possibly have in common?” I asked wryly. She had my attention—I would give her that. I couldn’t fathom what might align me to her cause. Her teeth grazed across her full bottom lip as she peered up at me. “The cauldron not only restores life, it restores health, heals the sick and injured—it could give you back your memories,” she whispered. I stiffened with shock. “What makes you think I want those memories? I’ve lived a lifetime without them, created new memories, moved on.” It was bluster and bluff, but she didn’t know that. She had managed to zero in on the one and only thing that might give her leverage over me, and I didn’t want her to know it. “Who wouldn’t want to know their past?” she purred. “What about your family? You don’t know if you even have one. That uncertainty would eat any man alive.” “I’m not just any man. I’ve had plenty of time to get over the loss as have any family I might have had.” My reply was more clipped than I would have liked. “Keep telling yourself that, and perhaps one day, you’ll believe it.” “Merlin is my family now, and he wants you to remain here. Why would I betray him like that?” I pulled myself off the wall and began casually pacing by the large living room windows, hoping I came across as indifferent rather than overwhelmed. “If he’s your family, he would want this for you. He would want what’s best for you.” “I agree, but maybe having my memories is not best for me. Betraying his trust is not what’s best for me.” “He told you to stay with me, which you would be doing. That’s not a betrayal. I’m not planning to go on a killing spree, nor do I have any other secret agenda. I. Just. Want. The. Cauldron. If you would benefit from its magic as well, what would be the harm in helping me?” Her words were an alluring honeycomb, dripping with sweet temptation and loaded with hidden dangers. “If your purpose is so pure, why haven’t you asked Merlin yourself for his help to acquire the cauldron?” I glanced at her, assessing every nuance of her posture and expression. Like an actor on stage, there was all kinds of activity going on behind the scenes. I needed to understand more than just her performance to see the full story. Unfortunately, she was too practiced to give anything away. “Don’t you think he would have retrieved something so powerful by now if he could have? As you mentioned, its location is secret. Merlin may be compassionate, but he’s not perfect. Something so powerful as the cauldron would not have escaped his notice.” “And yet, you still believe you’d be able to find it?” She raised her chin defiantly but did not otherwise answer. My jaw began to ache, and I realized my teeth were tightly clenched. “I’m not going to help you escape from here. I wouldn’t do that to my friend.” “Fine, live in darkness forever.” Morgan’s pink lips thinned, and those penetrating blue eyes narrowed. “But know this—I will obtain the cauldron, and when I do, don’t come groveling to me for your precious memories.” Her voice was cold as steel and equally unyielding. As soon as she finished, she marched to the bedroom, slamming the door behind her. Normally, I would have found her childlike tantrum amusing. However, I was just as upset with myself for considering her proposal as she was upset with me for declining. I ate a quick meal, not tasting the food in my mouth, and returned to the forest to clear my thoughts. I was ashamed I would even entertain the idea of releasing Morgan. Merlin had worked for decades to contain her—helping her escape would have been unforgiveable. Although she would hardly be free without the use of her magic. Allowing her to leave the premises would be more like taking a dog for a walk than leaving the gate open. My lips curled up deviously at the visual—Morgan collared and under my control. The alpha wolf inside found that concept extremely appealing. As a wolf, when I encountered other wolves in the wild, I was all alpha. It was irrelevant I had not started out as a wolf—the spirit of the animal found a home inside me. While I no longer wore the skin of the beast, many of its tendencies had become my own. My wolf rattled its cage at the sight of a powerful female, demanding to dominate and own her. The middle of the pack female rarely stirred his appetite. Only an alpha female would suffice for an alpha male. Morgan was the epitome of an alpha.