“Lynx,” Mal snaps. “Fucking focus.”
Lynx bares his teeth but turns back to Mal. “What?”
“Nico saw the hunters out of his bedroom window. Thinks he recognises one of them from the fight ring.”
It takes a second for the words to sink in, and then Lynx freezes, his whole body unnaturally still. It’s unnerving, and I want to reach out and grip his shoulder, but something—maybe self-preservation finally kicking in—holds me back.
“Which one,” he asks—well, growls more like. I’m not surprised when he moves and I glimpse claws instead of fingertips and fangs instead of human teeth.
Mal doesn’t react, unbothered by the rage even I can feel pouring off Lynx. “One of the guys with Fox.”
“Motherfucker.” Lynx starts to pace.
We all look up as Callum walks in. “Good,” he says, eyeing me and Lynx. “You’re done.”
“Where are the others?” Lynx demands, stopping in the middle of the room.
“On their way back from following the hunters.” He glances at me, something in his eyes making my blood freeze in my veins. “Jet says they have a house on the outskirts of town.”
Oh god.
It can’t be.
I don’t know how, but deep in my gut I fucking know it’s my old house he’s talking about. “Where?” I whisper, praying I’m wrong.
Callum holds my gaze as he rattles off an address that’s all too familiar.
“Fuck.” My knees give out, and Lynx darts forward to catch me.
“Whose fucking houseisthat?” he demands, gently lowering me into a chair and kneeling in front of me, not letting me go.
I can’t answer because my mouth is bone dry.
“Morgan,” he urges, thumbs stroking the back of my hands.
I look up into eyes the colour of stormy skies and whisper the one word that changes everything. “Mine.”
17
LYNX
“What the fuckdo you mean, it’s your house?” I try and keep my temper in check, but it’s a close fucking thing. “I thought your dad lost it gambling?”
“He did,” Morgan replies, hands shaking where he clings onto me. I don’t like how pale he is or how clammy his hands feel.
I take a deep breath and try to project a calmness I don’t fucking feel right now. “Start at the beginning and tell me everything you know.”
“I think they drugged him,” Morgan says, eyes wide.
“Who? The hunters?” Callum asks, but Morgan shakes his head, then shrugs.
“I don’t know, I never saw them. But my dad seemed to think they did. They made him sign away the deeds to our house by torturing him.” He looks up at the ceiling and bites his bottom lip. Then whispers, “They cut off his fingers and then threatened to do the same, or worse, to me.”
A roar tears out of me before I can stop it and Morgan flinches, pressing back into the seat to get away from me.
“Fuck, I’m sorry.” I lift my hands and move away from him. “I’m not angry at you. I just?—”
“I know.” He even manages a small smile. “But still fucking terrifying.”
