Liam's golden eyes studied my face, searching for deception. I held his gaze steadily, letting him see the sincerity behind my words. I had nothing to hide from him—not my longing, not my relief at finding him, not my willingness to wait however long it took to earn his trust.
"Some shifters never exchange claiming bites," I continued softly. "It doesn't make them any less mated. It doesn't change what they mean to each other."
Something shifted in his expression—not quite trust, but maybe the beginning of it. His shoulders lowered slightly from their defensive hunch, and he settled more comfortably on his branch. Though he still maintained the distance between us, the air of immediate flight had dissipated.
He flipped to a new page in his notepad and began to draw again. This time his strokes were more deliberate, more focused. I watched in fascination as a face emerged on the paper—Victor Markus, rendered with surprising accuracy. Liam tore out the page and dropped it to me.
I caught it, frowning at the image. "Yes, that's Victor Markus. He's inside talking to Butch right now."
Liam nodded, already working on another drawing. This one showed the clubhouse with stick figures at various points aroundit. Small devices were sketched near each figure, with arrows connecting them to what appeared to be a central location off the compound.
When he dropped this page to me, I immediately understood what he was trying to communicate.
"The break-ins," I said, looking up at him sharply. "You think Victor is connected to them?"
He nodded emphatically, then created another sketch—this one showing a small rectangular device with what looked like a tiny antenna. He pointed at the drawing, then at his ear, then made a circular motion around our compound.
"Listening devices?" I guessed. "You think they've been planting bugs around our property?"
Another vigorous nod, followed by more drawing. This time he sketched what was unmistakably a shifter mid-transformation, with crude symbols around it that I recognized from some of Henry's research materials about Preston Markus's experiments.
The implications sent a chill down my spine. "They're targeting us specifically as shifters. Not just as a rival gang." I looked up at him, pieces clicking together. "You've been watching. You saw them."
Liam tapped his own chest, then pointed to the tree, then made a sweeping gesture that encompassed the entire perimeter of our property. He'd been monitoring the compound from various vantage points, had witnessed the intruders we'd caught—and possibly others we hadn't.
"That's why you came back," I said as understanding dawned. "Not just because of..." I gestured between us, indicating our complicated mate situation. "But to warn us."
He nodded, his expression grave as he sketched one more image—a calendar with days marked off, leading to today's date, which he circled repeatedly with heavy strokes of his pencil.
"Something's happening today? That's why Victor is here?"
Liam confirmed with another nod, then pointed urgently toward the clubhouse. The message was clear—we needed to warn the others immediately.
I started to rise from my kneeling position, preparing to head back to the compound, when Liam's hand shot out in a stopping gesture. His entire body had gone rigid, head tilted slightly as if listening to something I couldn't hear. His eyes were fixed on a point beyond me, near the fence line.
Following his gaze, I saw the clubhouse door open as Victor Markus stepped outside, flanked by Butch and Gunner. Even from this distance, the tension in their body language was obvious. They spoke for a few minutes before Victor started for his car, Butch and Bear going back inside. I knew they’d be watching from the window until Victor left the property.
Liam's attention had shifted fully to Victor now, a new wariness entering his posture. Whatever he wanted to communicate would have to wait. Someone was in our territory who shouldn't be, and both of us knew it.
Victor Markus was strolling casually along the perimeter fence, about fifty yards from where we were hidden. His posture was relaxed, hands in his pockets, as if he were just stretching his legs after being cooped up inside.
Liam slipped down from his branch with silent grace, crouching beside me behind the thick trunk of the pine. His proximity surprised me—this was the closest he'd willingly come to me since I'd found him. His shoulder nearly brushed mine as we both peered around the tree, watching Victor's movements.
The Markus heir paused near a section of fence partially obscured by overgrown bushes. He glanced back toward the clubhouse—making sure no one was watching—then knelt down as if tying his shoe. His hand moved to the base of the fence post, pressing something into the soft earth there.
I narrowed my eyes, straining to see what he was planting. A small metallic object caught the morning sunlight, a tiny red light blinking once before Victor covered it with dirt and leaves.
"Tracker," I whispered. "Or a bug."
Liam nodded, his breath warm against my shoulder as he leaned slightly closer to see. I could feel the tension radiating from his slender frame—not fear of me now, but shared concern about what we were witnessing.
Victor stood, brushed the dirt from his expensive trousers, and continued his casual stroll along the fence line, moving away from us. His act might have fooled anyone else, but Liam and I had seen the truth—he was securing our perimeter with surveillance devices, preparing for something.
I turned to look at Liam, finding his face inches from mine. Our eyes locked—his golden gaze meeting my brown one—and something passed between us. A shared understanding. A silent agreement. Whatever was happening, whatever Victor Markus was planning, we would face it together.
Without words, we both knew what needed to be done. The club had to be warned. The devices had to be found and neutralized. And Victor Markus needed to be exposed for whatever game he was playing.
I shifted my weight, preparing to move back toward the compound once Victor was out of sight, and my hand brushed accidentally against Liam's. He tensed, but didn't pull away immediately.
