Riley stopped listening halfway through Urban’s reply, because Jason had moved. “Jason?”
“What is it?” Urban demanded.
“He’s waking up,” Riley said, hope crashing through him. He folded himself up to crouch in the footwell so he could see Jason properly, and he stroked his fur. “Jason?” he said again. “Jason, wake up.”
There was just enough light from the moon to see the reflection of Jason’s eyes, staring at Riley. “Oh, God, you’re okay,” Riley said, and he didn’t know if he was reassuring Jason or himself.
“Stay as you are, Jason,” Urban said, wrestling the truck around another corner far too fast. “I want Don to look at you.”
“He needs hospital and an MRI,” Riley said, stroking Jason’s neck, avoiding his head because he didn’t know where it might hurt.
“What he needs is his pack, and to sleep and heal,” Urban snapped. “You know shit about shifters.”
Jason’s tongue swiped hotly against Riley’s wrist, and he forgot everything then. Everything except Jason.
Chapter Thirty
RILEY
Riley blinked awake to sunshine pouring through the window. Every part of him ached, and for an instant he thought he’d spent another night squashed awkwardly on the seat of his car. But there was a warm weight in his lap, and when he looked down, it all came flooding back.
Jason’s head was across his thighs. The rest of his dark body was stretched out on Urban’s living room floor, with another wolf pressed closely against his back.
Last night, Urban had brought Riley a chair to lean against, once he realized he wasn’t going anywhere. Through the long night, Riley had gotten used to the clicking of claws on the floorboards as the pack came and went, each one quietly taking their turn lying close to Jason as he slept. He didn’t know if they’d done so for Jason’s comfort or theirs.
The vet—vet!—who’d looked at Jason had declared the bullet wound to be nothing more than a graze. He’d cautioned themabout what to watch for with the head injury, but his confidence, along with the fact Jason had been awake for a while, had reassured Riley. As had the fact that the wound on Jason’s back leg had almost healed overnight. Still, he wasn’t moving from here until he knew for sure Jason was okay.
The morning light spilled across the floor, reaching Jason and the wolf pressed against him. And Riley stared. Unless he was losing his mind, the other wolf’s coat was not just glossy in the sunshine—itshimmered. Almost like it was lit from within. The wolf’s blue eyes met his, direct and steady.
“I see you’ve met our Argent.”
Riley jolted at Urban’s voice, and looked up to find him sitting in an armchair. His gaze was level, unreadable.
And then Urban’s words penetrated and Riley’s jaw dropped. Their Argent? After all this, it was true they had a fucking Argent in the pack. He didn’t know whether to laugh or throw up.
The wolf didn’t blink, just stared back at him like he knew exactly what Riley was thinking. Riley shifted his gaze back to Urban, but that wasn’t much better—his expression hadn’t softened.
Urban’s voice was quiet but iron-hard. “No need to tell you what happens if you breathe a word of this outside this room.”
Riley swallowed. Somehow, he held his gaze. “I get it.”
Urban’s stare didn’t flicker. “He’s the one who said you should know. Said he figured you care enough about Jason to keep it to yourself.”
The lump in Riley’s throat made it hard to speak. “He’s right.”
Urban sighed. “Well, shit. You couldn’t have waited until he was out of earshot before agreeing with him, could you? He’ll be damn near intolerable to live with now.”
Riley stared. Urban’s fearsome alpha demeanor hadn’t faltered, but his voice was filled with the weariness of someone who’d spent far too long trying to herd an unherdable cat.
“Er, sorry?” he offered uncertainly.
The wolf curled up with Jason gave him what he could have sworn was an extremely smug smile, and he suddenly realized. “Jesse,” he said, and got another grin.
He shook his head and found himself smiling back. It seemed somehow inevitable that the last remaining descendant of the dignified and stately shifter nobility would turn out to be the scruffiest and least formal one of them all.
Returning his attention to Jason, he ran a gentle hand over his fur and willed him to wake. Hoping, yet again, that Lennox hadn’t hurt him too badly.
He sucked in a sharp breath as he remembered all that had happened. “Lennox won’t—Jason won’t be in trouble for attacking him, will he? He was defending me.”
