Andrew snapped his head toward Mac. “Paul, you say?”
Mac shifted his attention from Noah to the murderous asshat. “Yes. He went by the name Paul Price at the time of his disappearance.”
Andrew hung his head. “My father held a wolf named Paul in our basement. Tortured him for days, asking, ‘Where is he?’ Normally we ask about a pack. Not this time. I don’t know what the wolf told him. Afterward, Dad told me about a dangerous wolf named Noah. He sent my uncles to find him.”
“Ten years ago?” Noah asked.
“Somewhere in there.”
“Then Paul is dead.” Noah scuffed the toe of his tennis shoe against the faded linoleum, one tear slipping free of his lashes, sliding down his face. He wiped the droplet away with an angry swipe of his hand. He wouldn’t cry in front of this bastard.
This time Slade ignored Mac, crossed the floor, and took Noah into his arms. One thing to believe someone dead, another to have all doubts removed. Paul, Noah’s mentor, his surrogate father, regardless of how and where he found Noah or what he originally intended. In the end, Paul had done his best. Noah couldn’t hold revealing his location during torture against the man.
Too much to take in. Noah stayed quiet, soaking in silent comfort from Slade. Slade, solid and trustworthy, not telling Noah what to do or think, merely offering support. Without a doubt, if Noah wanted to shoot Andrew, Slade would load the gun. If Noah offered the hand of peace, Slade would have his back. He turned in Slade’s embrace, addressing Andrew with his lover’s arms firmly around him. “Your family has taken mine from me. Taken most of the people I loved.”
“Now we have a chance to end the bloodshed,” Mac said. “Like I said, we can’t undo the past, but we can make things better for future generations. Thomas Pritchard is out of the picture, which means his successor is now head of the family.”
“So you’re the head?” Noah snapped at Andrew.
“No,” Andrew replied bleakly. “The line passes through the firstborn. If they die, succession passes to their children. I’d have succeeded my father if my older sister had no living children.”
What. The. Fuck. “What the fuck are you saying?”
Andrew Prichard sent a way-too-familiar blue-eyed gaze Noah’s way. “The reason my father found you dangerous is his successor, the next head of the family, would be a wolf hybrid. You.”
Fuuuuuccckkkk.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
ThetwoPritchardsnavigatedthe wards without problems, hopefully proving no ill intent. Them entering the heart of a werewolf enclave spoke of insanity or sincerity. Mac confined them to a room in the pack house for their own safety, both to watch them and as insurance. Wolf hunters on the premises couldn’t be made common knowledge.
Mac locked them in and settled on the porch with Slade and two beers. “Noah all right?”
“Yeah. No. Maybe.” Slade ran his hand through his hair, fingers tangling in snarls. “So much to take in. Sam gave him something to help him sleep.”
“Good. I’m glad you were here for him. He’s not fragile by any means; still, finding out you’re kin to the enemy would hit anyone hard.”
“Yeah.” Too bad Slade couldn’t continue here. Maybe Noah would find another wolf one day. Then again, as half human, half wolf, would he ever fit into either world? Finding a pack was supposed to fix him feeling like he didn’t belong.
“Pretty good detector you got there.” Mac nodded to Slade’s side. “I don’t know how the hell the damned thing knows a hunter. I’m just glad it worked.”
“This time. We need to ask Sam if he can do something similar for witches. Give plenty of warning.” Slade’s side didn’t react to their two “guests,” only the hunters taken into custody.
“If those two”—Mac hiked a thumb toward the pack house— “are telling the truth, you won’t have much to worry about going forward.” He rocked back in his chair. “Ain’t over, though. I got a feeling Noah’s not going to take kindly to being the head of the Pritchard family.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” Slade bet not. Noah wanted nothing to do with the bastards who’d slaughtered his family.
“You think Noah will be safer when you leave.”
Notifyou leave.When. “Yeah. I promised I’d keep him safe. I intend to keep my promise.”
“Let me ask you this.” Mac fixed a stare on Slade likely to send most crime suspects running. “Would you stay if you could?”
If Slade could, he’d find a cabin by a lake and stay forever—with Noah. “Yes.”
“The curse means you can’t.”
“The curse means I can’t.”
