I turn away from him and head back to the house. “Hurry up and get dressed,” I hiss, fully deserving the “Fuck you” he tosses after me.
There’sa welcoming committee waiting when we emerge from the forest. Callum, Jet, Mal, and Flint are sat at the picnic bench out the front of the house watching us approach.
Great. That’s all I fucking need.
Not that it matters. Even a shower won’t hide what we’ve done.
But I’d rather not have this conversation now.
At least I had the foresight to get dressed first.
Morgan walks about two paces behind me, face like thunder, and I know the exact moment that our scents reach them. There are varying reactions, but not one of them looks surprised.
Fuckers.
“I didn’t realise ‘show him my wolf’ was a euphemism,” Cal says, loud enough for Morgan to hear too.
Mal snorts, but Jet and Flint don’t look all that amused. I don’t blame them. It’s not fucking funny.
“Back off.” I growl out a warning, which naturally they all ignore. I get within ten feet of them when there’s a yell from the gate.Bollocks. “Jet,” I snap, “Get him a prospect cut.”
Jet bolts inside, and Morgan’s eyebrows shoot up as he glances between us.
“What’s going on?” he asks, not having picked up the shout from those at the gate.
“Hunters,” I turn to face him. The gates are already being opened. We’re bound by the hunter’s laws to let them in, so there’s no fucking time to hide him. “When they ask who youare and why you’re here, you tell them this and nothing more, okay?”
He nods, thank the Goddess.
“You’re a prospect. You’ve only just joined, and whatever they ask or say, do not let on that you know what we are. Understand?”
“Yes,” he snaps. “I’m not stupid.”
I know he’s pissed at me, so I let it slide. “Mal, go upstairs and make sure Nico and Tyler know what to say if they get questioned.”
“On it.” He races inside, footsteps loud as he hits the stairs.
It’s not definite that any of the hunters will go into the house, but there’s a chance. Why are they here now?
Jet bursts out the door moments later and shoves the leather cut into Morgan’s hands. He hands the rest of us ours, too.
Morgan quickly slips his on, the black leather snug across his shoulders, andfuck me, I’m not prepared for the effect it has on me.
We’re not your average shifter pack.
An alpha has betas.
There’s a chain of command, which isn’t usually up for discussion.
I have Callum, Jet, Mal, and Flint. But they’re notjustmy betas. They’re my fuckingbrothers.
Seeing Morgan wearing our name across his back... Iwantit. There’s a deep, visceral need in my gut that wants him to be a part of what we’ve built, and it’s so fucking hard to accept that it’s just for show.
“Lynx,” Cal hisses, drawing my attention to the approaching vehicles.
Two black SUVs.
Fucking hell.
