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

over onto my back, which was when I noticed someone looming over me. I scrambled backward on my ass and pressed my back against the wall, clutching what turned out to be a towel and not a blanket. I was naked.

Eric peered down at me, his gaze appearing less icy than I remembered.

“W-what happened?” I asked in a scratchy voice. My throat felt itchy and gritty as if I’d drank a glass full of beach.

“You shifted.” His voice, like his eyes, was somewhat softer. He leaned down and placed a stack of clothes on the floor next to my outstretched legs.

My eyes roved around the room until they found the shreds of the clothes I’d been wearing. My brand new tennis shoes looked like they’d been through a paper shredder.

Oh, no! I’d really liked that pair. They weren’t cheap either.

“Get dressed,” Eric said. “I’ll wait for you upstairs.”

He walked out and left me staring at the torn shoes. A feeling of loss clawed at my chest that had nothing to do with the shoes, even though I was trying to convince myself that it did.

I snatched the T-shirt from the little pile and slipped it over my head. Then I grabbed the pants, a pair of navy-blue sweats with white stripes down the sides, and found a pair of flip-flops resting underneath them. I tossed the towel aside, got dressed, and stuffed my feet into the overlarge flip-flops. The clothes were baggy, but not too much.

Before I left the room, I glanced over my shoulder at the clock on the wall. It was almost 7 AM. I blinked and squinted at the numbers to make sure I was reading them properly. Three hours had passed, and I had no memory of them.

Heart hammering, I walked out of the room, down the hall, and up the steps. Eric was standing in the middle of one of the sitting areas, cell phone in hand, his thumb scrolling. I stopped at the edge of the rug that delineated the sitting space. I noted he was wearing the same clothes he’d been wearing earlier. Had he not shifted?

The morning sun had started seeping through the thick glass walls. Eric scrolled for a little longer, then pressed the off button and set the phone on an end table. For the first time, I noticed there was a scratch along his left biceps.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Same time,” he said, his eyes flicking toward the exit.

“Wait, you’re not going to tell me what happened?”

“You shifted.”

“I know that.”

He huffed as if suggesting I was clueless.

“Okay, I may have no memory of shifting, if that’s what you mean, but unless you went to the trouble of ripping my clothes off, I have to assume that’s what happened.”

Eric’s mouth twisted. Clearly, he hadn’t liked my “ripping off my clothes” comment, but if he was going to be a smartass, I could be one too.

“Don’t push your luck with me,” he said.

Something trembled inside me at his words, something that was all new, and I didn’t like it at all. Eric was an alpha, and I suspected that my meekness was due to an instinct of self-preservation forcing me to submit to his higher rank.

I gritted my teeth, hating the feeling. I didn’t like to submit to anyone. I liked using my voice and being heard. Why should I obey him? If what people said was true, then Eric was nothing but a monster and a murderer, someone who didn’t need to be anyone’s leader, and who clearly used his strength and ruthlessness to prevail over others.

Pushing through the servile instinct, I said, “I’m here to learn, am I not? So how am I supposed to do that if you won’t tell me what happened?”

To my surprise, Eric smiled. It was the first smile I’d seen on his face. It was nothing to write home about, but it changed his face enough to let me see past his hardened exterior. Maybe once, his smiles had come easily, but I could tell they didn’t anymore. I’d just met him, and I knew this was a rare moment for him, so rare that when he realized he was smiling, he quickly went back to being serious.

“You’re strong, Sunder,” he said, using my name for the first time. “And your wolf is too.”

I didn’t know what to say. Earlier, he’d insulted me with similar words, and now...

He sighed deeply, and his shoulders slumped a little. He looked tired, like someone who had seen too much and had lost all interest in seeing more.

“There are things,” he said, “that words can’t explain. I need you to be patient and do as I say. Don’t question me. I could try to explain but it would be a waste of time. Suffice it to say that your wolf holds the answers you want, and once you’re able to remember, you’ll know everything, and any words I could waste now trying to explain, would pale in comparison to reality.”

I found myself nodding, accepting his explanation because it made sense. If I tried to explain to anyone how the tracking trance worked, my words couldn’t come close to describing that shimmering darkness that enveloped me, and the way smells and sounds and sights assaulted me as I involved my every sense.

“Good,” Eric said when he saw I understood.

“But I have so many questions,” I said.

“Our time for today is up, but you can ask your most pressing question.”

This was so unfair. Why didn’t he leave time to answer my questions? But I knew why, I was a beggar stealing his time, and the best I could do was to content myself with his scraps. All right... my most pressing question. It jumped to the forefront without me even trying to find it.

“Damien told me to use pain to stop the shift. It works, but just barely. Is there a better way? I’m terrified of hurting my friends like... I hurt you.” I pointed at his arm.

He threw a