Bronc stood. He circled his chair like a caged dog, then planted his hands again and glared at both of us. His voice was low, but it had the resonance of a shotgun behind it.
“I got a question,” he started, slow and deliberate. “At what point did y’all decide that the chain of command in this club was, what, a fuckin’ suggestion?”
He fixed Wrecker first, then me. I didn’t blink.
“You go off the grid in Houston,” he went on. “You sniff around a rival’s territory. You insert yourself into whatever backroom clusterfuck Steiner’s got running. And the best part? You do it without so much as a phone call to your goddamn Alpha.” He slammed his palm on the desk. “Are you both fucking brain-dead?”
Wrecker grinned, half-hearted. “Better to ask forgiveness than permission, boss.”
Bronc ignored him and turned the full force of his stare on me. “Regan. You’re supposed to be the stable one. The rules guy. Now I got Doc and Juliet blowing up my phone at four a.m. saying you’re in the wind with my VP.”
“Had to move fast,” I said. “Didn’t want to tip anyone.”
Bronc exhaled, slow. “You didn’t want to tip anyone. You didn’t want to tipme. You understand how that sounds?”
I nodded. “Yes, sir.”
He looked like he wanted to launch the nearest office chair through the window, but he kept his hands flat. “What the hell could possibly justify this?”
I glanced at Wrecker. He gave a subtle nod; the go-ahead. So I said it:
“Harper is my fated mate.”
The silence was absolute. The hum from the fridge seemed to die. Even Wrecker, who knew, looked away.
Bronc just stared. No visible reaction for five full seconds. Then he sank into his chair and pressed his hands to his face. When he spoke again, the anger had gone flat and heavy.
“Ofcourseshe fucking is. Why wouldn’t she be? Why the hell can’t a female wolf in the state of Texas ever meet her mate like a normal goddamn person, huh?” He spread his hands, like we were all at a backyard barbecue and this was just a funny story about fate screwing him. “No, they gotta fuck it up. Get trafficked, or dealt some other kind of shit hand, get locked up by a psycho. Then they always land here. With Iron Valor. With me.”
“I thought she had rejected me five years ago.”
He pointed a finger at me. “You waitedfiveyears to tell me you had a fated mate? Guess that explains why you’re such a fucking asshole to everyone who finds happiness with a woman.”
I shook my head. “Well, fuck, Bronc. I didn’tknowshe hadn’t actually rejected me. Not until I talked to her.”
His eyes went sharp. “You saw her in the club?”
I nodded. “She’s at Eyrie. She’s working the main floor and the VIPs. She’s not a guest. She’s on the menu.”
Bronc’s jaw bunched. “Was she trafficked in?”
“She says it was her father. Debt. Pack politics. She’s been there three years. Longer than the news cycle on that whole Ponzi scheme.”
Wrecker jumped in. “We think it’s connected. Steiner owns Eyrie, but we picked up a bigger stink: witches everywhere, and maybe more. Arsenal thinks it’s a front for something.”
Bronc’s eyes narrowed. “What kind of ‘something’?”
Wrecker laced his hands behind his head, stretching. “There’s way too much money moving for a strip club, even onewith Houston clientele. Cash flow is more like a hedge fund. And the staff—several are witches, and the bouncers are human but with serious military backgrounds. Steiner’s not running a pack. He’s running a black site.”
Bronc chewed on that, then looked to me for confirmation.
I gave it. “They’re moving people. Maybe wolves if they are being subdued with spells. But Maltraz hates wolves; he’d do whatever it takes to humiliate them. And the sales are not domestic. That’s the reason we’ve not really heard about it. Looks like they may transport them through the ship channel and then auction them once they get to their destination somewhere overseas. We also get the feeling Steiner’s part ends at the docks.”
He said nothing for a while. He just looked at me, then past me. Then he shook himself, like a dog snapping off rain.
“Why didn’t you call me?”
I didn’t have a good answer. “I just wanted to get to her fast. Guess I was afraid you’d make me wait until we had a solid plan in place, like any good ops leader would.” I hung my head with the shame I felt at letting my Alpha down.
