He watched her take it in. This was his favorite place, his secret place, the place he always came alone. He’d never brought anyone here before.

On the other side from the incline they’d climbed, the ridge fell sharply away, leaving a wide-open vista. In the middle of that vista was Shifter Falls, far below them now, a small grid of yellow lights. Surrounding the Falls were the mountains, cupping the town like the palm of a hand. It was dusk now, and the mountains were turning the majestic gray-purple that always took his breath away.

Coming and going from the Falls were a few roads, as small as hairpins from here, leading to neighboring towns and eventually to Denver. He could see the lights of a car winking far below on one of the two-lane blacktops, heading into town.

The wind blew sharp and cold, lifting Alison’s red hair as she watched. She was transfixed. “Oh, my god,” she said softly.

He knew she would appreciate it. Some part of him had known. Still, he saw that she was shivering, even through her coat, so he took off his own coat and put it over her shoulders, wrapping it around her. The cold didn’t affect him, and he still felt heat from when she’d been against his back. Or maybe he was just imagining that.

He kept his arms in place when the coat was wrapped around her, holding it. Holding her, even though it was through so many layers. He allowed himself that much. Gave it to himself as a gift.

“Listen,” he said to her. “This is where I come when I want to remember.”

“Remember what?” she asked. She had stopped shivering, had gone still in his arms. He felt her body relax.

He lifted one arm and pointed to the town. “Down there,” he said, “people go about their business. They see those houses, those streets, the faces of the people they meet. That’s their view.” He lifted his hand, indicating the entire expanse of land and mountains. “This, though,” he said as a strand of her hair tickled his cheek, “is the alpha’s view. It has to be. He has to be looking at bigger things. Things that might take years, or even dozens of years. Things that no one else can see.”

She was quiet for a long minute, taking it in. “Why are you telling me this?” she asked.

“Because if you want to be with an alpha,” he said, laying it out there, “if you want to be with me, then you have to understand what I’m looking at. What I’m seeing in my head. What I have no choice but to see. And you have to be able to see it, too.” He paused. “But I don’t think you want to be with me,” he finished. “It kills me, but I don’t.”

She was breathing shallow. He could practically feel her heart beating through the layers of clothes. “It’s what I want,” she said, her voice clear. “It’s always been what I want. Do you remember the first time we met? It was a pack meeting. I was twelve, and you were seventeen.”

“I remember,” he said. He did. He’d forgotten a lot of things, and missed a lot of things, but that he remembered. “Your father introduced us.”

“I knew then,” she said. “You didn’t. Maybe you still don’t. I can’t tell.”

“I was slow,” he said. “My wolf has known for years, but my wolf is my enemy, and I didn’t believe him. So yes, Alison, it is you. It has always been you. It will always be you.” He watched tears fill her eyes, but they didn’t fall. “But we can’t be together.”

“Yes we can,” she said. That steel-strong vulnerability he admired so much. “Why do you say that? It’s because of me, isn’t it? Your wolf wants me, but you don’t.”

“I want you so much my blood burns with it,” he said. “I can barely keep my control.” She sucked in a breath. “But there’s a reason. I told you, my wolf is my enemy.”

“Yes,” she said.

“This is why,” he said. “I killed my father. I killed Charlie, my alpha. I walked into his room at night, when no one knew I was there. I pinned him down as he slept and put an ice pick in the base of his skull at the back of his neck, up into his brain. It took him three minutes to die, and then I put his head back on the pillow and I walked out again. The coroner covered it up, said he died of natural causes, but it was me—and my wolf.” He held his hands out, his arms still around her so his hands were in front of her. Killer’s hands. “I’ve never felt a minute of guilt. Not one. My mother died in agony while I watched—that was Charlie’s work. I hated him with all of my black soul, and I killed him. That is the man who is your mate. I’ve broken the first rule of my kind, Alison. I killed a shifter, my own kin. I should have been banned years ago, put to death by my brothers. I shouldn’t even be touching you now.”

Tears were falling down her face, her cheeks wet with them. She said the words that sliced him open. “I’m not afraid of you, Brody Donovan.”

He backed away from her. “I’ll take you down,” he said, “and then you can go home.”