I swallowed. “Yeah.”
“You sensed it before you saw it.”
“Yes.”
His eyes searched my face. Then something inside him shifted. It was acceptance, perhaps. Or reluctant recognition.
“Good,” he said. “Because I felt it too.”
My breath caught. For the first time since this whole thing started, I realized this mission wasn’t just about sabotage anymore. It was about two wolves learning how to hear each other.
Even when neither of us was ready to admit what that might mean.
5
JAIME
Icouldn’t sleep. No matter how I shifted, something felt wrong. It was either too warm, too tight or too loud. I kicked the covers off, then dragged them back on, shoving my pillow around like it had personally offended me.
Every time I closed my eyes, my brain replayed yesterday’s walkthrough on a loop. The hurdle. Chris pointing it out before I even noticed it.
I growled under my breath and flipped onto my back. So much for pretending that didn’t bother me.
Finally, I cracked my eyes open. The room was still dark, the faintest wash of pre-dawn blue leaking through the curtains. The kind of quiet that should’ve been peaceful. Instead, it just made everything louder in my head.
I rubbed a hand over my face.
Chris didn’t just stumble into it. He saw it. He put it all together fast, too. Faster than I did. I hated admitting that. I rolled my head to the side and looked toward the other bed.
Chris was sprawled on his stomach, half-buried under his blankets, one arm flung straight out like he’d passed out mid-stroke.
His hair was sticking up in random directions, and he was breathing softly into his pillow, lips parted just a little. Peaceful. Unbothered. A tiny snort escaped me.
Yeah, okay. Maybe I’m giving him too much credit. The guy sleeps like he wrestled his sheets and lost. Still, that didn’t make it sting any less. I was supposed to be the one who caught things like that.
I turned away quickly, as if ignoring him could make the thought disappear. I misjudged him, I admit it. But no way in hell was I ever saying it out loud, especially not to him. He’d never let me live it down.
Sleep still wasn’t coming back. My wolf was restless too, pacing along the edges of my thoughts. Something about the tampered equipment and that handler giving us that dog treat. It all rubbed wrong.
I reached blindly for my phone on the nightstand. The screen lit up. A message from Michael, the town vet, sat at the top.
Got the sample. Call me when you’re awake.
That made my stomach twist. I’d shoved that treat into an evidence bag the moment Pampi’s check up was done and sent it to the Pecan Pines veterinary clinic before my head hit the pillow.
The idea that someone was targeting the dogs had my nerves wound up tight.
I sat up slowly, careful not to wake Chris. Pampi was curled up at the foot of my bed, tiny snores puffing out of her. She didn’t stir when I reached down to ruffle her ear.
I padded quietly across the room to the balcony door. The early morning chill slipped through the glass, brushing against my bare arms.
I hesitated for a beat, glancing back at Chris again, just to make sure he was still asleep, then stepped outside, closing the door behind me with the gentlest click.
I tapped Michael’s name and lifted the phone to my ear, already bracing myself. Michael picked up on the second ring.
“Jaime? It’s barely five,” he said, voice rough.
“Yeah, sorry.” I leaned my elbows on the balcony railing. “I saw your message and figured it was better to get it over with.”
