harder to find in a large city. They didn’t know where to go from there, although it remained clear they couldn’t stay in one place at the same time. Even if the Parisian crowd offered a pretty good cover, it wouldn’t hold them for long.
One day after their arrival in Paris, he and Clay decided to take breakfast out. Clay seemed in a slightly better mood. “I’m not going to mourn my bond with Klaus forever,” he said. “We’re in the city of love. Let’s enjoy it.”
They left their hotel room and chose a tiny café where they ordered hot drinks and croissants. It felt strangely normal and romantic to just enjoy a morning with a special person over a bite of 50
Scarlet Hyacinth
delicious breakfast. When he looked into Clay’s eyes over the café table, Ross almost forgot about his misgivings, and he could actually believe things would turn out all right.
Afterward, they went for a walk, taking in the beauty of the sights, the enticing scents coming from the various shops and the dazzling shine of the river. No one gave them a single ugly look when Clay took his hand, entwining their fingers together.
But as they headed back to the hotel, Ross sensed it again, the encroaching feeling of doom. He wanted to tell Clay to just make a run for it, leave the hotel and Paris altogether, but he didn’t get the chance.
A heavy hand landed on his shoulder, squeezing his flesh hard.
His attacker forcibly turned him around, and someone else did the same to Clay. Before he could even try to fight back, Ross found himself facing his nemesis, Joseph.
“Well, well, well.” Joseph chuckled. “Look what we have here.
Two errant pups away from their masters.”
Ross’s blood froze in his veins. His survival instinct told him to flee, every drop of self-confidence he’d gained in his time with Clay gone in one single moment. But he could not move. His muscles refused to obey him. Just looking into Joseph’s black eyes sent him spiraling into a world full of dark memories. Their last meeting flashed through his mind’s eye, and it felt as if he could experience each and every blow all over again.
How could this be? Ross had thought—or rather, hoped—he’d feel Joseph’s presence if the man ever found them. Then again, he must’ve felt and dismissed it like an idiot. He deserved whatever happened to him now.
It was only Clay’s presence that gave him the strength to remain anchored to the present. He gritted his teeth and struggled to free himself from Joseph’s hold. “Get the fuck away from me.”
Star-Crossed Mates
51
Joseph arched a brow at him in something akin to surprised amusement. “It seems the pup is teething. Not to worry. We know how to deal with that, don’t we, boys?”
Ross realized they were surrounded. He’d actually seen some of the ferals before, back when he’d lived with Joseph. Some observed him with stoic expressions, their faces blank, void of all emotion.
Others looked satisfied with his predicament. A couple seemed almost sorry for him, but didn’t show it beyond brief flashes of regret in their eyes.
It didn’t matter what the ferals thought of the situations, anyway.
They would never go against Joseph to help him. They never did during his childhood and teenage years. They had no reason to do so now.
Clay bared his teeth at Joseph. He stepped in front of Ross, shielding Ross’s body with his own. “You heard him,” he said. “Just back off and leave us be.”
This time, Joseph actually laughed. “Or you’ll do what, little boy?
Cry me away?” His expression turned into one of visible disgust.
“Please… You’re no hunter, Clay Hart, and even if you were, you wouldn’t stand a chance. Now come quietly, before we force you to.”
“The hell we will,” Clay replied.
Joseph was right. They didn’t stand a chance. But that didn’t mean they couldn’t fight.
Ross focused his powers on the ferals around him. He willed them to back away, delved into
One day after their arrival in Paris, he and Clay decided to take breakfast out. Clay seemed in a slightly better mood. “I’m not going to mourn my bond with Klaus forever,” he said. “We’re in the city of love. Let’s enjoy it.”
They left their hotel room and chose a tiny café where they ordered hot drinks and croissants. It felt strangely normal and romantic to just enjoy a morning with a special person over a bite of 50
Scarlet Hyacinth
delicious breakfast. When he looked into Clay’s eyes over the café table, Ross almost forgot about his misgivings, and he could actually believe things would turn out all right.
Afterward, they went for a walk, taking in the beauty of the sights, the enticing scents coming from the various shops and the dazzling shine of the river. No one gave them a single ugly look when Clay took his hand, entwining their fingers together.
But as they headed back to the hotel, Ross sensed it again, the encroaching feeling of doom. He wanted to tell Clay to just make a run for it, leave the hotel and Paris altogether, but he didn’t get the chance.
A heavy hand landed on his shoulder, squeezing his flesh hard.
His attacker forcibly turned him around, and someone else did the same to Clay. Before he could even try to fight back, Ross found himself facing his nemesis, Joseph.
“Well, well, well.” Joseph chuckled. “Look what we have here.
Two errant pups away from their masters.”
Ross’s blood froze in his veins. His survival instinct told him to flee, every drop of self-confidence he’d gained in his time with Clay gone in one single moment. But he could not move. His muscles refused to obey him. Just looking into Joseph’s black eyes sent him spiraling into a world full of dark memories. Their last meeting flashed through his mind’s eye, and it felt as if he could experience each and every blow all over again.
How could this be? Ross had thought—or rather, hoped—he’d feel Joseph’s presence if the man ever found them. Then again, he must’ve felt and dismissed it like an idiot. He deserved whatever happened to him now.
It was only Clay’s presence that gave him the strength to remain anchored to the present. He gritted his teeth and struggled to free himself from Joseph’s hold. “Get the fuck away from me.”
Star-Crossed Mates
51
Joseph arched a brow at him in something akin to surprised amusement. “It seems the pup is teething. Not to worry. We know how to deal with that, don’t we, boys?”
Ross realized they were surrounded. He’d actually seen some of the ferals before, back when he’d lived with Joseph. Some observed him with stoic expressions, their faces blank, void of all emotion.
Others looked satisfied with his predicament. A couple seemed almost sorry for him, but didn’t show it beyond brief flashes of regret in their eyes.
It didn’t matter what the ferals thought of the situations, anyway.
They would never go against Joseph to help him. They never did during his childhood and teenage years. They had no reason to do so now.
Clay bared his teeth at Joseph. He stepped in front of Ross, shielding Ross’s body with his own. “You heard him,” he said. “Just back off and leave us be.”
This time, Joseph actually laughed. “Or you’ll do what, little boy?
Cry me away?” His expression turned into one of visible disgust.
“Please… You’re no hunter, Clay Hart, and even if you were, you wouldn’t stand a chance. Now come quietly, before we force you to.”
“The hell we will,” Clay replied.
Joseph was right. They didn’t stand a chance. But that didn’t mean they couldn’t fight.
Ross focused his powers on the ferals around him. He willed them to back away, delved into
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