There had been no further incidents over the past week, and even though I was relieved, my skin prickled with an awareness that things couldn't stay calm for long.

The more time I spent with Declan, the better I understood him. The more connected I was to him.

Declan and I were slowly developing a routine. We sparred with one another almost nightly, and though it aggravated me to know that he was pulling his punches, he never let me win, and he challenged me every match.

He pushed me to do better. To be better. And he never coddled me.

These past two nights, after our spar sessions, we’d been able to go to our room and have a semblance of normalcy. We watched old DVDs and ate popcorn. And I learned that Declan had a completely inappropriate sense of humor that I found wildly endearing.

But most of all, Declan was letting me into his world. I hadn’t realized how much that would mean to me—to be a part of something bigger than myself. To feel like I belonged somewhere and to someone.

I sat in on Clan meetings. They were boring and frustrated me to no end, but I realized why they were necessary. I was in awe of how well Declan navigated the shark infested waters. He had a brilliant mind, and he moved the Clan Alphas into the positions he needed them to be in like pieces on a chessboard, and when that didn’t work, he snarled and roared until they all shut up.

I snickered. A good roar seemed to always silence a room, unless that room was filled with children, of course.

I went with him to visit the children in primary. I hadn’t realized until now that he visited them daily.

Thinking about him crawling on the floor and making tiger roars for the entertainment of the young pups and cubs warmed my heart.

He would make an amazing father.

The prospect of having a child with Declan made my breath hitch. Was I really so far gone that I was already thinking of our future children?

I stretched my arms over my head and tried not to picture tiny tigers of my own running around our room.

If we had children, would they be able to shift? Would they inherit any of my pyrokinetic abilities? I didn’t know of any other shifters mated to a nonshifter and as far as I knew, pyrokinetic abilities weren’t something passed through every generation. Neither my mother nor father were psykers, but my grandfather on my papa’s side was an aerokinetic, able to manipulate the air and its currents. Was it possible for a shifter child to inherit both of our strengths?

A knock on our bedroom door snapped me out of my thoughts.

“Come in,” I called out, curious to know who’d be visiting me at such a late hour. It was eleven at night, and Declan hadn’t come to bed yet. But if he’d been the one at the door, he wouldn’t have knocked.

Inarus opened the door but didn’t step inside. Smart man.

Dressed in dark jeans and a form fitting long sleeved thermal, he stood awkwardly at my door, one hand shoved in his pocket, the other holding three metal spheres that hovered in the palm of his hand.

He usually only had them out when he was distracted, his mind playing out scenarios or contemplating a difficult task. I wondered what was on his mind now.

He and Declan were tolerating one another and I was grateful for it. But, I didn’t think Declan would be thrilled to have Inarus’ scent swirling around our room. I was glad he didn’t step inside.

I jumped from my perch on a large armchair and walked forward with hurried steps when I realized his face was etched with worry, his dark brows casting shadows across his cheeks.

“What’s wrong?” I asked. My heart hammered in my chest, an awareness that the last few weeks had just been the calm before the storm hitting me in the pit of my stomach.

Inarus pressed his lips into a thin line, his scowl deepening. “Remember when Twitch came looking for you at Sanborn Place?” He didn’t wait for my answer. “I gave him my number and told him he should call me if he needed to get in contact with you. I just got a strange message from him.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and held it out.

I took it and read the text message displayed on the screen. Twitch's texts were just as scattered as his verbal conversations.

I handed Inarus back his phone. “When did you get this?”

“Less than five minutes ago.” I stared at the clock on the nightstand. I didn’t know when Declan would be back, and if Twitch was in trouble, I didn’t have the time to wander around the Compound trying to find him.

I wrung my hands together and worried my bottom lip. What choice did I really have?

Declan was going to kill me.

“One minute,” I said and rushed to find a scrap piece of paper.

I found an old business card in the pocket of a pair of my discarded jeans and quickly scrawled a note to Declan.

I left the crumpled business card on his pillow and grabbed my leather jacket. Slipping it on, I slid my daggers into their sheath at my waist and headed for the door.

“Come on.”

Inarus wrapped his hand around my forearm halting my momentum.

“Aria, something doesn’t feel right.”

“I know,” I agreed. “But you know Twitch. Half of what he says never makes any sense. If he’s in real trouble, we can’t wait for it to feel right.”

I slipped past him and made my way toward the staircase that would lead me to the Compound’s main entrance.

We passed Brock and Devin along the way. The were locked in conversation, and I kept my head low, hoping to avoid their attention.

“Hey, where are you heading off to?” Brock asked. He eyed Inarus suspiciously.

“I’m checking on a friend,” I told him honestly.

Both men frowned. “Does Declan know …”

I cut him off. “I’m a grown woman.” Irritation bloomed in my chest.

“So that’s a no?” Devin said.

I sighed dramatically. “I left a note, and I don’t have time to argue. Come if you want to babysit me. I don’t care.” I turned, not bothering to wait for a response.

“I’ll go with Aria. Go find Declan and make sure he’s apprised of the situation,” Brock said to Devin, who swore under his breath.

I rolled my eyes and didn’t slow my stride. I could live with two escorts, I told myself.

Babysitters wouldn’t kill me.