The human in me accepts what a monumentally bad idea that would be as far as our relationship is concerned. But the president of the Wild Wolves realises that mine and Morgan’s relationship isn’t the most important thing right now.
It can’t be.
I push away the part of me that wants to ease him into this, to gently persuade him that this is the best course of action. To kiss him, comfort him, and hold him close until the urge to lock him away subsides.
“Morgan comes too,” I say, not looking at him. “He knows the house they’re holed up in better than anyone else.”
Both Mal and Callum nod and head for the door, leaving me and Morgan alone.
When I finally look at him, he’s glaring at me. “Is that all you’ve got to say?Morgan comes too.” He mimics me surprisingly well, I almost laugh. “I just told you that the nutjob who cut off my dad’s fingers, threatened us both, and is now living in my old house with a load of other fucking nutjobs is the same one who was in this room less than half an hour ago.” He stands, hands in his hair, and I wonder if it’s only just hitting him. “They know who Iam, Lynx!”
“I know.”
His hands shake as he lowers them to his sides. “All those questions about my house and my dad when they already knew the fucking answers. They were justplayingwith me. Seeing if I’d tell the truth or not.” He looks at me with wide eyes full of fear, andfuck it, I can’t stand all the way over here and just watch.
I can’t.
I cross the room in two strides, pulling him into my arms and holding him so fucking tight, I’m surprised he can still breathe. I want to promise him that he’s safe, that I’ll never let anything happen to him, but I don’t.
I won’t lie to him.
I have no clue what this means for any of us, but I know that none of it’s good.
It’s about as bad as it can get.
If Nico’s right, then hunters are involved with the fight rings. And if that’s true, we’re all fucked.
I hold Morgan until he stops shaking. I’d love nothing more than to whisk him up to my room and take his mind off everything, but that’s not happening. I force myself to let him go, and step back. “We need to go,” I say, soft but firm. “They’ll be waiting.”
He looks almost as pale as the day we brought him here, but he squares his shoulders and raises his chin. So fucking brave.
My wolf stirs, pride and possessiveness radiating outwards, but I stamp it down. Now really isn’t the time.
They’reall seated when we get there.
Everyone but Jet. He’s pacing along the back wall, slow measured steps, looking every bit like a caged animal.
“Sit down, for fuck’s sake.” I close the door behind us and take a seat at the head of the table, Morgan beside me, and wait for Jet to do the same. He scowls as he does it, but at least I don’t have to watch him pace.
“What do we know?” I ask, looking between Jet and Flint.
“All of them went back to the house,” Flint reports. “But the Silver Blades left soon after.”
“How many at the house now?”
He grimaces. “Hard to tell. There was another two SUVs parked outside. Best guess? I’d say at least eight to ten of them.”
“Why that house?” I ask, although I’m pretty sure I know why.
Flint confirms it. “Halfway between our pack and the FBs. It’s the perfect location if you’re a hunter.”
Cal taps his fingers on the table. “Why now though? Hunters have never wanted a permanent base here before.”
That’s the more important question and the most concerning. “You think they know about us targeting their fight rings? If Nico recognised one of them—” Jet’s snarl echoes around the room. “—then they’re involved somehow. Either as spectators or—” Or something so much worse that I can’t even bring myself to finish that sentence.
“You think that’s why they wanted a place in between our packs? Maybe they know shifters are involved, but not who exactly?” Callum sits back in his seat, arms crossed.
He looks frustrated, and I don’t blame him. There are too many questions we don’t have the fucking answers to.
