Zachery spoke with reverence. “He just inherited Kansas’s wolf.” Considering Prowler and Zachery were jumped wolves themselves, they were the only ones in the room who knew what that felt like.
There was little time to appreciate the sacredness of the moment because Ghoul’s phone went off.
“Gotta go. Someone reported possible shots fired in the area.”
No one needed to be told twice. They lifted Kansas, and everyone headed for the van with the exception of Monster and Carys.
“I’ll stay back with her in case they knock on the door, and then we’ll head your way.”
Prowler nodded. “We’ll send a clean-up crew once you give us the all-clear.”
Monster watched his club leave with his fallen brother.
EIGHT
CARYS
Carys stayed on her knees in Cliff’s, no Samual’s, office just processing everything that had happened.
Monster didn’t speak to her. He just watched the men leave with Kansas’s body. The man who’d whispered for her to keep Monster company that night had just taken a bullet meant for her. One fired by her own biological father. The situation was so fucked.
Monster had a stern but conflicted look about him. Sad and angry and a million other emotions she couldn’t seem to name.
Turning her head, she caught sight of her sperm donor’s cold, dead eyes from under the desk. Even in death he seemed to look through her, not seeing her. Never seeing her.
Witnessing the emotion Monster was warring with made her think she was broken because she felt numb over the loss of her father. He was never a true father to her, but he was still half of the DNA that made her, well, her.
There was little doubt left in her mind that Monster was her mate, but he would never trust her after everything that went down.
“Monster?” She dared to look up into his hard blue eyes. “I’m sorry about Kans?—”
“Don’t.” His voice sounded like rocks bashing against each other in a raging river.
“Get up,” he ordered, and she complied.
Grasping her bicep, he led her out of the office, closing the door behind them.
She noticed him sniffing the air in a very wolf-like way. Before casting his gaze to the table by the front door.
Leading her to a chair, he lowered her down to sit, none too gently at that.
“Stay.”
Carys wanted to snap at him that she wasn’t a dog, but she knew better than to poke the bear, so to speak. Bringing her feet up onto the cushion, Carys turned in on herself, hugging her knees as the events of the last hour crashed into her like a speeding locomotive.
Kansas was dead, died to save her, and she’d played a part in his death. The sweet, fun-loving man who’d been standing in the middle of a bar with mistletoe was gone. It hit her that he’d wanted a mate so badly, and her father had injected her to torture him. It seemed to her, he’d wanted nothing more than to find someone to love, and her father was willing to twist that to his own advantage.
She blamed herself for Kansas’s death.
So would Monster.
She looked up to see him lighting the scented candles and placing them on the table by the door.
When he turned, his nose was wrinkled in disgust.
Monster’s entire body practically vibrated with tension, blame, and what looked like hatred. Barely sparing her a glance, he strode past her and toward the bathroom. After a moment, she heard the sink.
She wished her mother were there to wrap her arms around her and tell her everything would be okay.
