War of Hearts (True Immortality 1)

Thea wished she was in Oslo alone, not chasing answers, and instead enjoying being somewhere where the air was so beautifully crisp and the buildings a remnant of a history she’d love to discover.

“Are you ever going to speak to me again?” Conall asked.

Lost in watching the city pass by, she’d almost forgotten how much he’d hurt her.

Thea knew deep in her gut he hadn’t meant to. That it wasn’t a deliberate deception. But she was still angry at him for having never mentioned Sienna.

However, it was jealousy and hurt that was truly ripping her up inside.

Thea had never hated anyone but Ashforth, yet she was pretty sure she hated a woman she’d never met and who had done nothing wrong beyond agreeing to marry Conall.

His fiancée.

It made their inevitable separation so much more real.

And he expected her to walk into his hometown and probably meet the werewolf he would spend the rest of his life with.

Ah well, Thea told herself, it wasn’t like she and the Scot had a future, anyway. They’d both known that.

Deciding churlishness was beneath her, she looked at Conall. “You trust this guy, right?”

If it surprised him she’d spoken, he didn’t show it. “Aye, like I said, he’s a friend.”

They’d barely been in the car fifteen minutes when Conall pulled off a main road onto a quiet street facing a park. Behind a row of prickly hedges and large trees were several small blocks of apartments, all architecturally different. Thea followed Conall out of the SUV and past parked cars before coming to a gated driveway with a sign on it.

“This is it.”

The driveway led to a large red-and-blond sandstone apartment building with a secure entrance. Conall reached for the door and then halted.

He turned to look at Thea.

Puzzled by the searching expression in his eyes, she shifted uncomfortably. “What?”

“You were right.” His words were clipped, gruff even. “I shouldnae have kept Callie and James apart all this time.” He bent his head toward her. “I didnae understand that until now.”

Thea’s breath caught.

What did that mean?

Was he trying to tell her he more than cared for her?

That the short moments they’d shared were worth experiencing, even if he never got to have more time with her? Or was she reading what she wanted to read into his words?

Her heart, even so used to pain, ached in a way it had never ached before. She broke his gaze. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Ignoring the feel of his eyes burning into her, Thea pushed open the door with enough force to break the lock. “Which floor?”

“The top. He owns the penthouse.” Conall fell into step beside her, his arm brushing hers. Perhaps it was childish, but Thea couldn’t withstand any closeness between them. She fell back. “Lead the way.”

Conall sighed, taking the stairs first. “Will it be this way from now on, then?”

Why was he pushing this? Why couldn’t he just let it go? “What way?”

“I touch you.” He looked down at her as he took the next flight of stairs; his icy eyes burned with obvious anger. “And you pull away?”

“Well, I’m not yours to touch so, pretty much.” It was a taunt, and they both knew it.

He glowered down at her as she followed him up the stairs. “Dinnae push me, Thea.”

She pursed her lips. “A threat only works if there’s something to fear. I could crush you, Conall, and we both know it.”

“If that was supposed to deter me, it failed.” He flicked her a hungry look. “It only reminds me how strong you are, how hard you fuck, and how hard you like to be fucked.”

Thea flushed at his language and the reminder of the bed they broke on the boat. He was being deliberately crude to piss her off and get a reaction out of her. “Treasure the memories, Wolf Boy.”

“Oh, I will, Thea, lass,” he said, his tone softening with fondness and if she wasn’t mistaken, despondency.

It killed her attitude, and she fell silent, brooding at his back.

They soon stepped up onto the top floor where only one door awaited them. When Conall knocked, there was absolute silence. He knocked again, louder.

“Maybe he’s not home.”

He flicked her a smirk. “It’s daylight out and he’s a vampire. He’s bloody well at home.” He knocked harder and called loudly, “Vik, it’s Conall MacLennan.”

A few seconds later they heard several locks being turned and then the door swung open. A tall, blond-haired vampire stood in the shadow of the doorway, his inquisitive, big blue eyes on Conall. He wore a Metallica T-shirt and a pair of gray jogging pants. Although skinny, Thea noted the wiry, muscular strength beneath his pale skin.

“Hei Venn.”

“Hei Venn,” Conall returned.

His blue gaze turned to Thea, catching in the light, flicking to mercury and then back to blue. “I knew it was you.” Vik gestured between them, his accent a mix of Scottish and Norwegian. “I have security cameras.”