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“He’s in there?” I ask, looking at the cabin.

Bob makes the same affirmative noise as earlier.

“Right. I’m going in.”

Before I can stalk forward even a step, Bob cuts in front of me. His fur prickles on end, and he lets out a low warning growl.

“What are you doing?”

He goes on growling. I didn’t even know cats could do that.

My gaze cuts back to the cabin, and I swear I see movement behind the curtain. What is Sasha doing in there? Is it like Wilde said, did he come here to get away from me? Or … it’s like my rapid heartbeat and the tension clinging to my muscles already know the answer.

One of the curtains over a back window is parted, so I pace closer, surprised that Bob lets me go. There’s a tree not far away that I’m able to scale, and when I settle, crouched on a low branch, I can pick up snippets of the room.

The top of what looks like Sasha’s hair …

His ugly goose …

Legs stretched out by the table …

And Antonio.

He steps into view, and a rage like I’ve never felt before sweeps over my body. I told him what would happen. I was very fucking clear. My nails dig into the tree trunk, and I lose all sense of myself. My gaze has narrowed in on his face, and I’m ready to tear him to shreds, no matter the consequences.

I jump from the tree, but like he can sense the shift in my mood, Bob is there again. Every time I try to take a step forward, he turns more and more feral.

I lean in and lower my voice. “Then what the fuck do you expect me to do?”

I’m rattled. My heart is beating too quickly, and my hands are as clammy as if I’d spent the morning training with my knives.

I can’t leave Sasha with that monster.

Bob hisses at me, and it’s clear he’s not going to let me storm in there. I need to think this through.

I take the kind of deep breath that sends daggers to my lungs as I force myself to calm the fuck down. Panicking isn’t the way forward here, even though it doesn’t feel completely like my choice.

This is the moment I’ve been preparing for my whole life. I can’t fucking blow it now. Someone I care about is actually in danger, and I need to keep my goddamn head right if I’m going to get him out of here.

“Think he’s okay in there?” Matt asks, reminding me he’s here at all.

“No.” I put my knife away as concern crosses Matt’s face.

“What do we do?”

“You leave. I deal with this.”

Matt’s eyes narrow toward me. “No. We’re a team.”

“You’re a cub. Cubs don’t fight adult battles.”

Matt laughs, pulling out his machete. I can’t help the pride I feel that he chose the same weapon as me. “I’m almost an adult, and I was trained by you. Do you really think that I’m going to walk away when someone needs help?”

“Sasha has me to help.”

He looks me over. “I was talking about you. I’ve never seen your face look like that.”

“Like what?”