The Tracker's Secret: Sunderverse (Mate Tracker Book 2) by Ingrid Seymour (the gingerbread man read aloud .txt) 📗

looked at me with narrowed eyes. “Be here Thursday morning at 4 AM. We’ll train for three hours. If I don’t see progress in three days, I’ll stop.”

4 AM?! What kind of torture was this? I opened my mouth to protest, but he went on.

“If she gives me lip, I’ll stop. If she’s late, I’ll stop. If she doesn’t try hard enough, I’ll stop. It could take a lifetime to teach her what it is to be a werewolf, but I’ll only give her five days.”

“Five days?!” Damien said incredulously. “That’s hardly enough. It doesn’t seem a fair exchange considering what you owe me.”

“Take it or leave it.”

Damien sighed. “We’ll take it.”

“Good. Now, go.” Eric made a dismissive gesture toward the door.

I stood motionless, feeling like a cheap trinket everyone kept passing up at the flea market. I wanted to spit in his face as I stared at him, hatred building inside me at record speed. Honestly, I’d never gone from zero to I-hate-your-guts so quickly in my life.

My claws sprang out, and I took a step toward the lone wolf. Before I knew it, he had me by the throat, his own claws digging into my skin. He snarled, baring sharp fangs and releasing his hot breath straight into my face. His blue eyes glowed with iridescent light and bore into mine, digging deep into some animal instinct I didn’t know I possessed.

Fear and submission unfurled inside of me. I felt the need to curl into a tight ball on the floor and whimper. My shoulders shook slightly, but I fought the urge to cower, and instead, let out a baby growl.

Eric’s eyes widened in something like surprise, then he dug his claws deeper into my throat and snarled again, louder this time.

My claws slipped back of their own accord. Gone in a jiffy. I curled inwardly and wrapped my arms around my stomach. He let me go, and I staggered backward into Rosalina’s arms, who held me protectively against her body and smoothed my hair as I trembled.

“Leave,” Eric repeated.

Damien and Rosalina helped me out of the room.

I didn’t straighten from my submissive position until ten minutes later. All that time, Rosalina soothed me, and Damien paced up and down the hall with impatience, muttering to himself. At last, we left the party, though the time between my short meeting with Eric Cross and Rosalina helping me to bed was a blur.

I felt weak and ragged as if I’d just come out of a tracking trance and went to sleep shivering, despite the many blankets Rosalina draped over me. All night, I dreamed of snarling faces and shook in fear to my very soul.

Chapter 14

SATURDAY MORNING, I woke up late and dragged myself out of bed. I fed Cupid, then shuffled into the kitchen. When a strong cup of Columbian coffee didn’t wake me up, I took a cold shower. I shivered all the way through it and felt happy to be alive afterward, which was a great improvement.

“Do you still feel up to going out?” Rosalina asked as I came out of the bathroom, rubbing my wet hair with a towel.

We had plans to go furniture shopping for my new place, and since Aaron Blackridge had stopped by the office to drop off the tears and I’d started his potion, we were also supposed to go by the agency to pick it up. We’d decided to do the tracking trance tomorrow, so we could set DJ Slice on his path to bliss. However, just the thought of going under made me tired to the bone. If only I could track people’s mates by devouring their Cheetos or something, I would chomp at the bit.

We had been excited about selecting furniture for my apartment, and though I felt like curling up on the sofa to binge-watch Netflix or take a nap, I put on a smile and told myself that getting out would be good for me.

“Yeah, I need a distraction,” I said, sounding as chipper as I could. “Plus, I, at least, need a bed and a sofa before I move in. I close on Friday, and I’ll get the keys right away.”

Rosalina returned my smile and looked relieved to see my enthusiasm. I didn’t want her to worry about me and my upcoming appointment with the Werewolf from Hell, Mr. Eric Cross. He seemed to live up to his heartless reputation, but he had agreed to teach me what I needed to know, and it wasn’t like I had many options. I could tough it out.

A knock came at the door just as we were leaving. Looking through the peephole, I saw my mother. My anger popped like a jack-in-a-box.

I turned to Rosalina. “Tell her I don’t want to talk to her.”

“Who is it?”

“My mother.”

Rosalina cocked her head and gave me a worried look. “I’ll do it, but are you sure?”

“Yes. I need some breathing room. I’m not ready to deal with her.” Tears pooled in my eyes.

“All right.” I went into my bedroom and waited, fidgeting as I sat on the bed.

Rosalina peeked her head in after a few minutes. “She’s gone now.”

I nodded. “Thank you. I’m sorry for—”

She waved a hand. “No need. I’m with you. You need time to process. So...” she hooked a finger over her shoulder. “What do you say we get out of here?”

I hopped to my feet. “Let’s go!”

I drove the Camaro with the top down, enjoying the cool April breeze. Soon, the summer heat would come, and our brains would fry like eggs if we did this, so we needed to enjoy the weather while we could.

Our first stop was a chain furniture store where I found new stuff for a comfortable price. My bed and sofa would be new, but for the rest of my furniture, I planned to hit some antique and thrift stores for cheaper options. The pieces would have character and I could refurbish them if needed. I wasn’t