Jeans. Was that what he was going to marry me in? My illusion spell made it look as if I were wearing a flowing white silk wedding dress trimmed in lace, and a massive gauzy veil covering my face and flowing down my back, held in place with a garland of pearls and white roses, and he was wearing a black t shirt and jeans?
Oh, well. I wouldn’t mind stripping those jeans right off him. I went back to mooning over how gorgeous he was. Full, sensual lips, high cheekbones, thick dark hair that I couldn’t wait to run my fingers through…
Wait. I gave myself a mental slap on the face to bring myself back to reality. I’d never get to run my fingers through that hair. I’d be effectively divorced by this afternoon.
I watched him throw back his head and laugh at something one of the guys who’d come with him said, and felt a sudden twinge in my belly. Maybe Corwin was right. Maybe he would want to be married to me…
No! What was I thinking? I’d taken leave of my senses.
A hot guy like that would never want me. I knew that quite well. I looked just like my mom, and I’d spent my childhood and adolescence listening to her moan about how men never fell in love with women who looked like her – and then watching her be the living proof of that. My dad had an affair with my mom, and left without marrying her. It had broken her heart. She’d never gotten over it, she’d gone through life dating jerky guys and mooning over my dad, who ran off and married some beautiful, slim leopard. Then he’d cheated on her and she’d booted him out, but that was another story entirely.
I sighed, and went back to admiring the scenery. Maxwell and his family were a very handsome group of shifters, and actually the scenery behind them was beautiful too. It was June at the foothills of the Timber Mountains, and the emerald green of the trees and the shocking blue of the sky were like something out of a Technicolor dream. Fat white clouds floated like lazy, happy sheep, drifting in a gentle breeze. The Timber Mountains loomed in the distance, dark purplish blue and capped with white.
The Timber Valley pack, like many packs, had thousands of acres of property, which let their members live in safety and privacy, away from human discovery. They had a central family compound, where important gatherings took place, and where anyone who wasn’t working would likely be found hanging out and socializing during the day. They had a farm and ranch animals, and a logging operation. I was in a building a quarter mile down the road from the compound, so I’d been told.
The building was a guest house, and I was in a living room with furniture hand-hewn from logs. I turned away from the lovely scene in front of me, and walked back to the round mirror that hung on the wall. I’d been checking my reflection every five minutes, petrified that the charm would somehow stop working.
Nope. Camille still stared back at me from the mirror. I stuck my tongue out at myself, put my thumb in my ears and wiggled my fingers.
“You are in for a big surprise, Max Battle,” I said to myself with Camille’s mouth. “And it serves you right.”
The door flew open with a bang, and I started and spun around. I expected Maxwell to come striding through, but it wasn’t him. If I had to guess, based on the descriptions I’d heard of him, I’d say it was Kray Renker.
My heart froze in my chest. Had he found out what Camille and I had done? Even worse, had he caught Camille and Frederick? God, not that, I prayed.
He slammed the door shut behind him. He was big and angry, with an air of menace rolling off of him like a cobra that could strike at any time. I suddenly felt fear curling up in my stomach.
Kray was a handsome enough man, somewhere in his forties with thick black hair and a beard and mustache shot through with some gray, but the enraged expression on his face made him very ugly to me. He had a scar slashing through one eyebrow, and another on his neck. Not surprising. Most Alphas were pretty scarred up. He looked me up and down, glowering.