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this? My defenses go up. “Oh? Nolan who?”

“That’s not funny, Shayne.”

I know that. It’s not fair to Nolan, either. His behavior—his persistence in making a claim on me—would have been nothing but endearing to other shifters. It’s not his fault I’m so independent. “Oh, don’t give me that look,” I say. “Nolan’s a top dog. He can get any woman in the county.”

Fuming, Rook throws the car in park and snaps, “You’re even dumber than I thought, do you know that?”

I literally flinch at his words. Rook and I definitely don’t know each other well enough for that kind of abuse. Part of me wants to bite his head off, but the other part—the part that is cowed by his dominance—wants to run with my tail between my legs. “Excuse me?”

“Nolan’s not the one I’m worried about. Do you even know—are you even the tiniest bit aware—that he’s been in love with Darby Monson since he was a teenager?”

“Who? Darby…who the hell’s Darby Monson?”

“Uh-huh, that’s what I thought. That’s exactly…” Shaking his head, he squeezes the wheel with white knuckles. “This is not my thing, Shayne. I should not have to be telling you this. I’m not even pack anymore. It’s out of line in every way. But you’ve burned your bridges, haven’t you? Which means if I don’t do it, nobody else will.”

Okay, leaning more toward biting the head off now. Of all Nora’s men, I’ve definitely found the one I like least. “Spare me the lecture, Rook. You’re right about one thing: you aren’t pack. You haven’t got a damn thing over me. Am I really getting chewed out for leaving my pack by the guy who left his pack?”

“I don’t give a shit about you ditching your pack. Like I can talk. But believe it or not, I do care a little something about seeing you make it worth something. Do you know how hard it is to find the thing we’ve found?” He runs a hand through his hair with a sigh, the storm blowing over as quickly as it came on. “Why you gotta make me say this shit? Maybe you’re right. I’ve gone soft.”

My head is spinning. I don’t dare say a word, for fear of setting him off again.

“Look. You found it,” he says calmly.

“I found what, Rook?” I know exactly what it is, but I want to hear him say it. “What’s this thing you’re talking about?”

He grinds his teeth. “Love, okay?”

“Limpdick.”

He pounds the wheel. “Okay, I don’t know what I was thinking.” He puts the car into gear.

“Wait, wait, no. What about it?”

“What about what, Shayne? Let’s hear you say it.”

Grinding my teeth. “Love.”

“Oh, love. Is that what it is? Am I wrong?”

This is so awkward. I should have kept my big mouth shut.

“Am I wrong?” he persists.

I fold my arms across my chest. “No.”

“Okay, so you found it. You fought for it. You won it. But now comes the hardest part: you’ve got to keep it. I’m trying to give you a heads up.”

My heart skips a beat. “I’m listening.”

Rook stares at the road, as though tempted by the idea of simply speeding away from this conversation. “Darby Monson is Manistee Forest pack.”

“I’ve heard of them. Coyotes.”

“Right? Doesn’t it make sense? You never wondered why somebody as dominant as Nolan would be mated to a fox?”

His words prick at my pride, but I have to admit he’s right. Nolan and I never made sense on paper. There was no benefit for him. I wouldn’t add to his dominance or expand his territory. Darby Monson, on the other hand, sounds like she would do both. “He used to go to Manistee all the time for fishing trips or work.”

“Yeah, he wasn’t doing either of those. He was spending time with his woman.”

“Then why chase me so much? I’d given him an out. He should have thanked me.”

“Because you’re family, Shayne. He wasn’t chasing you. He was protecting you. And he was willing to lose Darby Monson to do it.”

“Protecting me from what?”

He throws his hands up. “See? Dumber than I thought. Not protecting you from what. Protecting you from who.”

The whole truth drops on my head like an anvil. My mind reels in shock. The ultimate duh moment. “Ben,” I say.

“Ben,” he confirms. “If Nolan didn’t claim you, Ben would have. We all know that. Ben has literally salivated over you for the last ten years.”

I shudder at the truth. Ben the sadistic narcissist, Ben the psychopath, with a claim over me? “I’d have turned him down flat.”

Rook nods gravely. “We all know that, too. And what would Ben have done then?”

My flesh crawls. “He wouldn’t have killed me,” I say. “It would have been much worse than that.”

“It still could be, Shayne. You quit your pack, turned them all down, but it’s not you or Nolan he’ll blame now, is it?” Rook pins me with a knowing look that skewers my heart.

With a rush of fear, I suddenly feel the need to find Jay, to see with my own eyes that he’s okay. “I have to go.”

“I don’t envy you.”

“I have to go,” I repeat, running for the truck.

When I practically break down the doors of Homicide Division at Detroit PD’s central station, Detective Ferro throws a hand up in my face. “Stop right there, Davies.”

“Where is he?” Sidestepping her, I scan the rows of cubicles.

“I don’t care if you’re FBI, or Secret Service, or personal bodyguard to the Pope. You can’t just come in and out of here whenever you want.”

“Is he here or not?”

“Psycho-stalker, please. Don’t even try and come across like you ain’t tracked him on your phone.”

“Fine. Where is he, then?”

“Um, hiding from you?”

A deep voice booms, “Shayne Davies.” It’s Brenner’s partner, Danny Russo, a massive bodybuilder with a perma-smile and a mischievous arch to one brow. He’s older than Jay, late thirties, with some premature salt-and-pepper streaking the hair above his ears. I can’t ever decide what ethnicity he looks—a mix of

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