Pictures covered the walls. Pictures of Aaron when he was on deployment and from between deployments. Some were candid shots, taken from a distance. Ones I doubted Aaron had known were taken. I also recognized the photo that Mason had of Aaron and himself, except Vince had scratched out Mason’s face with deep gouges.
Then there were photos of me. From the funeral, from my everyday life. Shots of me getting in my car, sitting outside a cafe with friends. Even a few taken through the front window of my house. The most recent ones were of me on Shifter Ranch.
An unpleasant shiver crawled over my body. This wasn’t grief over losing a friend. This was stalking. Years of it, going back to before Aaron died, then switching to me following his death. The candid shots of Aaron suggested Vince’s obsession with him predated my brother’s death.
It would explain his grudge against Mason. If he believed Mason was responsible for the object of his obsession dying, it would have enraged him. But why the switch to me?
“You weren’t supposed to see that.”
I spun around, finding myself face to face with Vince. He appeared calm on the surface, but an edge of madness crept into his eyes, as if his hold on reality was tenuous. I shifted on my feet to keep ready to move. Whatever his story, I knew enough about stalkers to recognize that being alone with Vince was dangerous.
“You should have met me at the clearing.” He spoke in a conversational tone, like we were talking about the weather. “Everything would have been so much easier.”
“How did you know I was here?” I tried to circle to the side, but Vince didn’t move from his position in the doorway. The window was too far for me to reach and open before getting caught, and I stood zero chance in a fight against him.
“Alarm.”
I closed my eyes, cursing under my breath. I should have learned that lesson after breaking into Mason’s cabin. When I opened them, Vince had stepped a few feet closer but still blocked my exit. He shifted his gaze to the wall of photos, and satisfaction filled his expression. “Isn’t it wonderful? Seeing your pictures side by side was just what I needed.”
He turned his gaze back to me, and the madness edged further into his eyes. “You look so much like your brother.”
A wave of revulsion washed over me, settling in my gut. I wondered if he truly saw me as me, or just as an extension of Aaron. I spoke slowly, trying to buy time while I figured out an escape plan. “You were friends with Aaron.”
His gaze blurred, a half-smile sliding across his face. “There was a spark to him. I knew instantly we were meant to be best friends.”
The smile morphed into a scowl. “But Mason had to get there first. He blocked Aaron from really seeing what should be. And he kept pushing me out so he could take what was mine. Leaving me in front of a computer screen while he played hero at Aaron’s side.”
Thoughts ticked in my head. How far did his obsession go? Could he have?—
“It should have been Mason who died that day.” His eyes darkened. “That’s what I planned. Mason went in first, and the blast should have killed him. But your brother saved him.”
Terror caught in my throat, but I held it back, forcing myself to stay in the moment. I wished I was recording this. The implications of his admission were huge.
“If Mason had died when he should have, Aaron would still be alive.” His gaze locked on mine, half-crazed. “You see now. Mason killed him. Mason killed Aaron.”
The way he twisted his narrative to blame Mason instead of himself chilled me. He wasn’t rational. There would be no reasoning with him.
“Then I saw you. You were so sad at Aaron’s funeral. I wanted to go to your side. That’s when I knew the truth.”
“The truth?”
“I was pulled to Aaron because of you. He and I were meant to be best friends, and you were meant to be mine.” He stepped closer, and I moved back, causing him to frown. “You must know this. Surely you can sense we’re meant to be.”
He gritted his teeth. “Or did Mason try to steal you from me too? Did he tell you that you’re his mythical fated mate? He lies. He’ll do whatever it takes to take what’s mine.”
This wasn’t love or friendship. This was possession. Of Aaron. Of me. He truly believed I was his. Fear consumed me. I’d been in tight situations before, but I’d never questioned my survival.
For the first time in my life, I saw no way out.
EIGHT
Mason
I’d never been more thankful for my special forces training than I was now as I approached the cabin that Brooke’s program had identified as Vince’s location. The only thing I wished for was a gun. I seldom used one—my bear half was usually enough to win fights—but it was Vince’s weapon of choice, and he was extremely skilled with it. When he took his shot, he never missed.
I extended my shifter senses toward the cabin. There was a faint scent of wild roses and rain mixed with Vince’s smell. The urge to go in, bear blazing, hit, but I resisted. I needed to be smart.
I moved through the bush around the cabin toward the front of the building. The door was open.
