“So we know he was poor – or pretending to be, driving a car like that – and that he somehow had access to moonrock. Is that it?”
“Pretty much. If we want to find out more, I’m going to need help.”
Viggo lifted his brows. “I told you, whatever you need, I’ll be there.”
Bjorn winced. “I mean outside help. There are things I can’t ask my friends on the force to do without a warrant, like tracking his phone or requesting surveillance footage from the highway.”
“You know we can’t get them involved,” Viggo said, looking stern.
“We wouldn’t have to tell them everything. They could treat it as a missing person case, or we could-”
Viggo grabbed his shoulder, squeezing down and cutting him off. “Bjorn, no. It’s been six months. I think we should keep our guards up, obviously, but I don’t think the risk of getting other people involved at this stage is worth it.”
“We need to know who-”
“If anyone finds out that I let you be feral for half a year without handing you over to the council, they could disband our pack and force us into the military. I’m telling you, that’s not a risk I’m willing to take. Do you understand?”
Bjorn swallowed, nodding. He understood Viggo’s reasoning, even though the scenario he’d laid out was an unlikely worst case.
It was true that if it came out that Bjorn had been feral that the council wouldn’t be happy, but disbanding families and pressing werewolves into military service was a practice usually reserved for packs that were broken beyond repair.
Viggo had been stupid, but he wasn’t abusive or exploitative – both of which tended to be conditions for a pack to be broken up by the council.
“That’s what I figured you’d say,” Bjorn said with a shrug. “Which is why I contacted Mike and told him I could come in and start volunteering.”
Viggo looked relieved at that piece of information. He licked his lips and nodded to himself. “That’s good. It will be good for you to get back to work.”
Bjorn agreed.
Viggo’s phone buzzed in his pocket. Grinning, he held up the phone for Bjorn to read.
“Bruce got us a booth at Olivia’s?” Bjorn asked, instead of leaning over to look at the message.
“That he did,” Viggo said, sliding the phone back into his pocket. He slapped Bjorn’s thigh and rose up from the couch. “I think this calls for a celebration. Let’s go to the bedroom and blow each other and whoever comes first has to make dinner.”
Letting Viggo pull him to his feet, Bjorn laughed.
“I’ll take that bet.”
17
VIGGO
“Should I have worn a suit?” Bjorn asked as they walked up the driveway to collect Sebastian for their date. He sounded nervous and Viggo suppressed a grin.
“No, you look great.” He reached over and groped his ass. “Reallygreat.”
Bjorn batted Viggo’s hand away with an impatient slap.
“Stop that,” he growled.
Viggo didn’t understand how Bjorn could be nervous. This wasexciting. The only thing Bjorn should be feeling was anticipation.
“I should have worn a suit,” Bjorn muttered and Viggo shot him an exasperated look.
Bjorn was dressed in a pair of dark jeans that showed off his ass and thighs to perfection, hugging them tight and showing off the rounded muscle underneath, black boots, and a midnight blue button-down shirt that pulled wonderfully tight over his chest and shoulders.
He looked like a stud.
