This Dark Wolf (Soul Bitten Shifter #1) - Everly Frost Page 0,110

under my backside before I open it. Inside, the contents of the box are hidden by fine, black tissue paper. Brushing the paper aside, I pull out a dress made of silky, black material. The skirt consists of layers of transparent tulle that will fall to my ankles with a long slit up the leg for ease of movement, but the bodice consists of two wide, slanted straps that confuse the hell out of me.

I turn it this way and that, trying to figure out how the straps are supposed to cover my breasts until I spy the card in the bottom of the box. It contains a picture of a model wearing the dress and it’s suddenly clear how it’s supposed to be put on.

The dress is one-shouldered. The wide straps are connected at the top of my right shoulder and cross from that shoulder to my left hip at the waistband. Each strap will cover one of my breasts—but barely. A whole stretch of flesh and cleavage will be exposed between and around the straps.

Quickly slipping the lid off the second box, I push aside the crimson tissue paper that covers its contents.

A laugh bursts out of me.

I take hold of the top of a strapless black bodysuit. The bodice and thong consist of ribbons and lacy whorls that will push up my breasts, circle my waist, and cover my groin with a small triangle but otherwise leave me bare.

I’ve never worn anything like it in my life.

“Fuck,” I whisper.

Tristan told me he’d give me the tools.

Now I need to decide how far I’m willing to go to end this deadly feud between the packs and avenge my father’s death.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

The city lights twinkle through the window of the SUV as we pass across the bridge into Baxter Griffin’s territory. The first time I crossed the Eastern Lowlands, we kept to the north and passed as quickly as possible into Tristan’s territory. Now, we’re heading right into the heart of a place where we are not welcome.

Tristan sits behind the steering wheel. A pistol rests in his lap, but we’re otherwise unarmed. He’s dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit and tie, his raven hair slicked back. He’s clean shaven, making him look far more civilized than I know him to be.

I cross my right leg over my left, the tulle skirt falling to either side. I’m slowly adjusting to the black heels I’m wearing. I spent half of the afternoon practicing walking in them and the other half getting dressed. Danika helped with my hair—a half up-do with waves flowing down my back and shoulders. I hardly recognized myself once I put on makeup, my lips scarlet red, my lashes dark, my blue eyes appearing sultry.

Finally ready, I’d sauntered into the living area to find Tristan dressed and ready, standing at the opposite window—his customary position. He’d appraised my reflection in the glass for a heated moment before he turned and tipped his head in the direction of the elevator, his emotions blank as stone.

When I leaned toward him, wanting to close the gap, he pulled back. “You can’t have my scent on you,” he said.

He hasn’t touched me since he left his bed this morning. His emotional walls are up, but I sense his inner struggle. He may have put the boxes on the bed, but I suspect he hoped I’d rip the clothing to shreds.

It takes a mere half an hour to travel through the city and into a forested area in Portland’s southeast where the houses are sparse. We enter a winding road that takes us higher until we reach the entrance to a private road with security guards stationed at it. A scan of the perimeter tells me that armed shifters are stationed at intervals all along the fence line, together with security cameras.

Ours isn’t the only vehicle lining up waiting admittance. The SUV in front of us pulls up beside the security guard at the gate, who leans in to take a slip of parchment that is presumably an invitation while another three guards check over the vehicle before they allow it through.

Baxter Griffin isn’t taking any chances tonight.

Tristan presses the button to wind down his window, grips the wheel with one hand, and slides the pistol down beside the door before we drive forward to pull up beside the guard at the gate.

Revealing his incisors, Tristan smiles at the security guard, speaking before the guard can say anything. “Tell Cody that