The doorknob twitched again.
Wolf snapped:
“Who’s there?”
No answer.
His stance changed—ready to strike.
He jerked the door open—
Hard—
fast—
deadly—
And nothing was there.
Nothing.
The hallway stretched empty in both directions.
Silent.
Still.
Not even Muffin wandering around.
Wolf swept the hall with his gun drawn.
Left.
Right.
Down to the archway.
Nothing.
He stepped out, checking corners, moving like a silent storm.
I slipped to the doorway, blanket clutched around me.
“Wolf?” I whispered.
He came back slowly, jaw tight, eyes darker than I’d ever seen.
“There was someone here,” he said. “He was touching the door.”
My throat closed. “But where did he go? This is the second floor.”
He shook his head once. “I don’t know.”
My legs wobbled.
Wolf holstered his weapon and crossed the space between us in two long strides, pulling me to his chest with one arm, his other hand threading into my hair.
“You’re okay,” he murmured into the top of my head. “I’ve got you.”
