Present

The inquisition took place in the comfortably appointed salon. Julian sat two feet away from Dallas, but it might as well have been a true ocean separating them. She couldn’t wrap her mind around his unexplained choice to bring the Enforcers in to interrogate them, much less his choice to submit to interrogation.

Margo—the former wolf of Willow Bend turned Enforcer who’d mated Salvatore Esposito of Italy’s Seven Hills pack—sat in judgment over the proceedings. In addition to Margo, her mate Salvatore sat in. Merrick would be asking the majority of the questions, while Mitch would advise and defend Julian. Amelia, Mitch’s far too recently turned mate, was supposed to act as counsel for Dallas.

Not impressed, despite the girl’s tenacity and temperament, Dallas didn’t deny her assistance; she just didn’t plan to make use of it.

“This is how we’re going to make this work,” Margo began, her gaze narrowing on Julian briefly before transferring to Dallas. Dominance rolled off Margo in waves, eddying through the gathered and bolstered by the primal force that was the alpha at her back. The wash of it slapped against Dallas, but she neither lowered her chin nor reacted to the insistence in the lash of power.

“Merrick will direct the questioning. Mitch and Amelia will only speak up if they detect a lie or catch wind of a puzzle piece they think we are missing. Julian, you will not hide your scent.” Then she looked at Dallas once more. “Nor you, Miss Dalton.”

Miss? Dallas damn near snorted; instead, she merely raised her eyebrows and turned to study Julian’s profile. Though expressionless, a muscle ticked in his jaw and tension coiled in every muscle. The lethal force he had to apply to contain his reactions impressed and terrified her. “You want to tell me again why we need to do this with an audience?”

“In the interest of expedience,” Margo answered when Julian said nothing. “Julian’s recused himself where you are concerned, because he can no longer offer unbiased judgment.”

Impatience crept through her, twining with a far more insidious emotion—disappointment. The emotional distance between them had never been farther. “Whatever. Let’s just get through this farce so we can get back to hunting the real villains in the piece.”

Merrick didn’t move from his position leaning against the wall. The Enforcer was younger than everyone else in the room, except Amelia. He was also a Hudson River wolf—or had been. Try as she might, though, she couldn’t place him. No one offered a second name so she didn’t even know if Merrick was his family name or not. Julian didn’t use a surname either.

“We’ll begin with the establishing facts. Julian, when did you meet Dallas?” Great, they were going to drag them through the coals.

“Summer, 1971.” At his cool response, a small frown appeared between Margo’s brows.

“When did you begin a relationship with Dallas?” Merrick continued.

“Autumn, 1971.”

If a relationship could be defined as scratching an itch, they’d definitely done that. Aggravation crept through Dallas. Julian all but ignored her and answered what she considered to be private questions about them. Once upon a time, she would have liked to think he considered them private as well.

Seemingly unperturbed, Merrick continued, “Who knew you were in a relationship?”

“Only Dallas.” Julian said, the answer automatic. “Though I believe that is in question now.”

Twisting, she opened her mouth only to have Margo interrupt. “Address the questions with facts and not suppositions.”

Clamping her jaw shut, Dallas called to mind the image of her knocking Julian on his ass and how great it felt to crack him across the jaw. Maybe she should have done that more often.

“Understood,” Julian said without an ounce of emotion.

“How long did you pursue this relationship?” Merrick’s baffling pursuit worsened Dallas’s mood.

“Forty-six years, three months and four days.” Julian answered without hesitation.

What the actual… Dallas couldn’t fathom how he reached that number. Their relationship ended long before she walked out the door, built on an unstable foundation of secrecy and assumption.

“During the time you were in a relationship, how many Lone Wolves would you say you were responsible for?” And on it went.

“All of them.”

“How many did you have personal dealings with?”

“More than one half.”

“How many did you execute as Rogues?”

“Thirteen.”

“When defining Rogues as those who have violated the laws specifically laid out for Lone Wolves, what Rogues, if any, did you allow to have a second chance?”

“Sixty-four.”

That number caught Dallas off-guard.

“How many were given a third chance?” Merrick was relentless, and what the hell was the point of these questions?

“Twenty-eight.”

“Of the thirteen you executed, how many fell into the last category?”

“Ten.”

Margo’s surprise filtered through the room, and she wasn’t the only one. Mitch and Amelia wore matching gape-mouthed expressions.

“What influenced you to show these wolves mercy in violation of the law?”

“The laws are inflexible, wolves are not.” Hesitation marked Julian’s response, the first he’d expressed since the farce began. No acrid odor of deception accompanied his phrase.

Silence blanketed the room, and Dallas glanced at Merrick. The younger wolf appeared puzzled, “Does this not directly contravene the laws you have taught us to support?”

“Yes.”

“Point of order,” Mitch interrupted. “The mating of Enforcers is against those same laws, right?”

“Only in as much as Enforcers are Lone Wolves…when they mate, they are no longer alone.”

Ice crept along Dallas’ spine, and she wasn’t the only one wrestling with his response.

“Wait,” Amelia said. “You told Mason that I would be training with Mitch as an apprentice Enforcer. That’s what you told everyone, and now you’re saying we didn’t need the lie?”

“It wasn’t a lie,” Julian informed her, his arrogance on full display. “You are his apprentice. You are learning to manage your wolf and the tasks specific to the Enforcers.”

“That’s splitting hairs,” Margo said. “We’re also off topic. Amelia, you intervene only on behalf of Miss Dalton. Merrick, return to the questioning.”

“During your tenure as Enforcer and Chief Enforcer, how many foreign wolves have you met with?”

“No more than a dozen.”

And so it went. Who were the wolves? What were the circumstances of those encounters? How many took place while he was pursuing a relationship with Dallas? How many were unfriendly?

“Wait,” Mitch intervened again. “The Russian Krysha…what about that one?”

“Not technically a meeting,” Julian said, but it was Margo who growled.

“Dammit, Julian. You want to do this, stop reinterpreting the truth and just give us the damn facts.” The snarl resonated in the room, but Julian remained unperturbed. “You don’t get to take the high road with any of us in this room. You held me by the throat and informed me how disappointed in my choices you were. Odd phrase from a man who apparently bent the law to his whims, so save us the smug responses.”

Tension wound through the gathered, but Dallas didn’t give a damn about the Enforcer response to his admission. Slicing the truth to match his narrative fit the man she’d known for so long—the man who kept so many secrets, she’d wondered if he understood the truth. Or had his choices about keeping their relationship secret been an effort to protect their time together?

“We don’t have the luxury of giving into our passions without considering all the ramifications, Margo. You didn’t want to choose an alpha, you didn’t want to be chosen…until it happened. Fortunately for you, he was an alpha and capable of protecting you from the fallout of that very public liaison. I made the decisions necessary to save lives.” Saving lives had always seemed to have been his goal. He once told her too many had died while he served in the war. A war which cost him friends and resulted in conflicts even among allies, and influenced the choices he made. Or at least, so he’d told her once.

“To get back to the point,” Merrick resumed his questioning. Every meeting with a foreign wolf demanded details of the encounter, then Merrick tracked back to the time before Julian served as an Enforcer.

Dredging up the dark past forced Julian to relive uneasy memories. While not her first time hearing this piece of his history, he held her as riveted as the others as he detailed the fight across Africa, then the invasion of Sicily, and the wolves he encountered as they pressed their attack through the Italian peninsula.

Reaching across the divide separating them, she gripped his arm. “Julian…” The interruption broke the spell, but she ignored the combination of surprise and reproach. “The encounter with the British wolves…” He hadn’t reached that part of the story, but she’d tracked ahead. “Before—you said you met them. What happened?”

Frowning, he twisted to look at her and for the first time since his allies arrived, the troubled gloom deepening the intensity of his blue eyes. “The encounter took place in the Apennine Mountains as we moved north. The British wolves were embedded with the forces of the British Eighth Army. There were…six of them, total.”

“Southern Apennine or the Northern?” Salvatore’s question pulled Julian’s attention away, and Dallas swallowed a growl.

“Southern. They were having trouble. Patton had continued along the opposite side of the peninsula, but a detachment was sent to help them with equipment. Your country had already agreed to armistice,” Julian sounded so tired. “But the German occupying forces had to be rooted out…and that meant bloody battles driving them north.”

“Was there anything particular about the encounter that makes you recall these wolves?” Though Merrick hadn’t moved, for the first time since he began asking questions in his methodical order, his interest seemed piqued.

“They were…unremarkable beyond the fact they were wolves. They were not my first encounters since joining the army. I was still hunting for Carl,” he paused, and she knew the other wolf’s death flashed through his mind. He’d killed the wolf at his request, the damage done by incarceration and experimentation so grave, his wolf had died before the man. “I detailed what happened, showed them a picture and shared his scent. Then the next day I pressed on. I don’t recall their names, if they even introduced themselves. It was a different time, and we were surrounded by humans waging a bloody conflict to save the world. Names didn’t seem important in the grand scheme of things.”

A pause followed his answer, then Salvatore straightened. “Did you see those particular wolves again? Or any other British wolves?” The melodic nature of his accent didn’t disguise the seriousness in his tone.

“One of them…saw him after we liberated Naples, then again after the halt in winter. Troop movements were restricted by a blizzard, so I went out to explore.” Of course a little thing like a blizzard wouldn’t slow him down. “I ran into a couple of the Brits, only one of which had been in the group I met earlier. Later, in ’44, I ran into several in Rome, which was odd.”

“Rome was an open city, but U.S. forces still entered to occupy it.” And apparently someone still harbored a grudge. Dallas wasn’t the only one to notice. Margo reached out to interlace her fingers with her mate’s.

The act reminded Dallas she continued to hold Julian’s arm and he’d neither shaken off the contact nor withdrawn from her touch.

“Not my call,” Julian said, refusing to cater to Salvatore’s irritation. “I went where the troops did, but there were British wolves there.” Shaking his head, Julian frowned. “I hadn’t thought about that in a while.”

“Why would the British wolves have been there if the U.S. occupied the city?” Merrick resumed the line of questioning. The tension rising between Julian and Salvatore filtered through the room. Mitch shifted his position, and Dallas glanced to where Amelia stood, white-knuckled hands braced on the back of the back of the sofa.

Closing her eyes, Dallas concentrated. The light squeeze she gave Julian’s arm resulted in his hand covering hers. His pulse slowed and gradually the aggression in the room receded.

“They were scouting territory,” Julian answered, his tone even and without an ounce of emotion. “It would be the only reason to leave their unit. Allied forces worked together through coordination, but there was no resistance in Rome. We didn’t need backup and British forces continued along the Peninsula. I didn’t support their action then or now.”

“Did you do something about it?” Merrick interjected. When Dallas opened her eyes, she found he and Margo both leaned forward while Salvatore stood like a grim beacon at his mate’s shoulder. Amelia had relaxed, but only fractionally. Despite the impetuousness of her youth, she held her wolf in ruthless check.

Turned wolves were usually hamstrung by their transition. Amelia appeared to be an anomaly. No wonder Julian used her apprenticeship to overlook her mating to Mitch. Perhaps he appreciates not being allowed the same flexibility when we were younger.

Who else would have allowed him, though? Hadn’t he been in charge all those years in actuality, if not in fact?

“He did,” Salvatore said quietly when Julian remained silent. “He acted when few others would have.”

“To interfere in the politics of other packs is against the law,” Julian answered in a steady voice, but Dallas didn’t need to know him to read between the lines.

“Yes—here. You have many laws which hamstring your Enforcers and your packs…for example, the peaceful acceptance of alpha challenge.” Salvatore’s posture relaxed. “Where else does one get free passage straight to an alpha?”

In many of the European nations, they didn’t have the same courtesy.

“If they cannot best one of my Centurions, they cannot possibly best me.” From most men, the statement would be laden with arrogant boast, but the Italian alpha owned it.

“Regardless, it is against the law to intervene…”

“You weren’t an Enforcer then,” Margo said, slicing her hand through the air. “Did you intervene or not?”

“I might have defended a scrawny youth ganged up on by five, swifter stronger attackers.”

With a wry smile, Salvatore gripped Margo’s shoulder. “The scrawny youth appreciated the defense.”

Biting her lip, Dallas held back a smile at Julian’s thunderstruck expression. Very little surprised him. “You were the kid in that alley?”

“Sì,” Salvatore said, inclining his head. “I was undernourished and barely fifteen.” Which meant he probably hadn’t achieved his current height. “The wolves were from the Yorkshire pack. That was not their first attempt at gaining a foothold on the peninsula, nor their last.”

Yorkshire… “Montague Arkady had a Yorkshire accent.” Suddenly the weight of the room’s observation swung to her.

Trust his Dallas to usurp the interrogation. Julian couldn’t help but be impressed.

Unrepentant as ever, Dallas wore a crooked grin, and met Margo stare for stare. “I spent some time in the British Isles.”

“You spent time in a lot of places,” Margo said, her dry tone barely masking her curiosity. “And you met this wolf…how many years ago?”

“It’s been a while, but I am well-trained in identifying sounds, scents, and sights, specifically so I can recognize them later. Don’t assume Rogue means stupid.”

Matching Dallas’s snarl, Margo glared. “Wouldn’t dream of it. I just thought liar meant untrustworthy.”

“Depends on why you told the lie and whom you told it to.” Dallas’s grip on his arm tightened, and he stroked his thumb along the side of her hand. Offering her comfort in spite of everything should be anathema, but he couldn’t resist the act. “So we can pick a fight, or we can finish the investigation. Julian’s a big boy, he’s capable of defending himself.”

The surge of antipathy between Margo and Dallas replaced the earlier aggression. “Dallas,” Julian said in a low voice even as Salvatore murmured Margo’s name. Meeting Salvatore’s gaze, he experienced a brief flash of humor.

“Then we all accept Miss Dalton heard a Yorkshire accent when she met with this Arkady?”

“I believe her,” Amelia said, almost too quickly. She aligned with Dallas quite well, then again, the newly Turned’s pigheaded nature reminded him of his former lover and had from day one. She wanted her independence and refused to listen to the laws as a reason.

“As do I,” Mitch said, surprising Julian, not because he agreed with his mate but because he believed Dallas.

Merrick said nothing, while Salvatore studied Dallas with an assessing gaze. “She is not lying,” he said after a momentary pause. “She believes what she says, and she has the experience to base the determination on.”

“You’re taking her side?” Margo narrowed her gaze at her mate, but he merely smiled.

“I am only on your side, bella. However, continuing the animosity does not help us solve the current problem. I believe you told me that once.”

Margo’s scowl would have been laughable under any other circumstance, but she glanced at them again then shook her head. “I don’t know anything about the British packs. We’re not that far in my European studies.”

“They are a quiet, isolated lot.” Salvatore said.

At the same time, Dallas added, “They can be a little too stiff upper lip, almost snobby depending on where you are. They have intense security on the island, though. You can’t arrive via flight, ferry, or train without being intercepted and questioned.” She shifted her position, she moved toward him rather than away. “I was deported within two hours of arrival because the wolf didn’t think coming to see the sites was a fair reason to allow me in.”

“Or he simply decided your ability to disguise your scent made you an unacceptable risk.” Julian knew her well enough. If she masked her scent now, she would have used it to protect herself at every opportunity.

“Maybe, or my atrocious American manners pissed him off. Who knows?” A glint kindled in her eyes when she smiled. A half-grin formed before he realized the simple joy of aligning with her again. “The point is,” she sobered, her attention fixed on him and not their audience. “I’m pretty sure the bastard was from York, or close enough to count in horseshoes. So, if you killed members of their pack, and my very unwelcome stalker was also from the same pack…”

“Then targeting Dallas may have been an attempt to punish you.” Merrick summed it up. “Targeting Chrystal Royce may be an attempt to lure Dallas back into the open in order to assassinate her or use her as bait.”

Tensing, Julian released her and rose. “This remains supposition. We are basing it on experiences which occurred decades ago. We have no proof.”

“Not true,” Hadley sing-songed as she sailed into the salon. “Sorry to interrupt what must be a waterboarding level of a good time, but John broke one of the wolves downstairs. Like the one we bagged a month ago, Arkady was the first name he gave up. Arkady hired them, but after the first couple of disasters, the Volchitsa wanted out. That’s when he added the nifty little mind-blowing chips in their heads, courtesy of proverbial guns to the head of their children or mates.”

“So now we feel sorry for them?” Time had done nothing to lessen Amelia’s intense dislike for those who inflicted so much harm upon her.

“No,” Julian stated, as unwilling as her to forgive the transgressions. “War is brutal on everyone involved. They accepted the mission in the first place. I pity the innocent caught up in their choice, but they made it initially, and they took payment for it.” Like soldiers who stated they were only following orders, there was a fine line between abdicating responsibility and owning the fallout from one’s actions. His choice to intervene in Rome was one he’d never regretted.

Too many clung to the attitude of not their pack, not their problem. Enforcers did not have that luxury. Many laws hamstrung them, but he hadn’t been then—and maybe the Enforcers shouldn’t be now.

One problem at a time.

“We have confirmation from two prisoners, and the sketchy recall from a decades old encounter—of the two, even the shady deal about the passport,” Merrick stated, ticking the items off on his fingers. “They don’t align with the sheer level of malice indicated by the violence of their attacks. None of these strikes have brought them directly at Julian.”

“Not true,” Margo said before Julian could begin, even as she gave Merrick an almost apologetic look. “You’re young, and you’re a bachelor. Ask any of the other males here what happens when you go after their mates. While Julian and Dallas aren’t mated…for whatever reason—and let’s be clear, I don’t want to know right now and I’m not asking. These attacks have graduated from testing boundaries to brutally personal, and we keep circling back to Julian. The attacks on the Enforcers, the lure for Dallas, the assaults on the packs—whoever this Arkady guy is, he knows you have a connection to Dallas, and he wants to exploit her to exploit you.”

Clearing her throat, Dallas abandoned her seat on the sofa and stretched. A beat before her mouth opened, he knew what she planned to say.

“No,” he rounded on her. “Not acceptable.”

“Yeah, you’re too close to me, which is why you brought in Margo. So, we’ll let her decide.” The smug tone pissed him off.

“Margo dislikes you intensely, she will have no problem dangling you as bait.” Not an option.

“Hey, Margo also has a mouth and can speak for herself.” But his former Enforcer shrugged when they both stared at her. “But Julian’s right, I have no problem putting her out there. Let her do it. She’s got the skills of a rat surviving a sinking ship.”

“I said no.” And he was done. “Hadley, help John finish the questioning, do not let him push it. Mitch, monitor the ship and the surroundings. Margo, Salvatore, make yourselves at home. Merrick, spell Mitch as needed, but stay close to Amelia if Mitch isn’t there.” He took Dallas’s arm and propelled from the salon. “Excuse us.”

Fortunately for everyone, she didn’t struggle and no one got in his way. Julian had held his temper, ripped himself open, and let the others examine his motives and question his choices. Going twelve rounds with a block of cement would have been simpler.

Below deck, he didn’t slow as he guided her toward his room. Once inside, he sealed the door then pointed to the bed. “Sit.”

“I’m not a dog,” Dallas snarled, but he held a singer finger in front of her face. The pupils in her dark eyes expanded then retracted and finally she blew out a breath. “Fine.”

Throwing herself on the bed, she lay on her back and stared at the ceiling. Her shorts left her legs bare, and the scrape on her calf was half-healed. He should have made sure she could shift; it would have sped the process. On the heels of that thought rode the certainty that she was a grown wolf, she could make her own decisions.

She could have shifted if she wanted to while on the yacht.

“Are you still testing how long you can go without shifting?” It hadn’t been the question he intended, but it escaped him regardless. Free of their audience, the feelings he’d suppressed surfaced.

Surprise flickered across her face. “Not recently, no…why?”

“Your leg is still sore.” Tracing his gaze over her form, he stopped at the collar on her throat. She hadn’t removed it over the last couple of days either. A part of him recognized her choice, even as he recognized she’d slept in this room, whether he’d been in it or not. The lack of the tag kept him from commenting.

She’d worn the collar but ditched the sentiment.

Understood.

The realization helped erect the barrier between his reactions and his emotions once more.

“I’ll live,” she said with a shrug. “I’ve had other things on my mind than a few scratches. Did you really just drag me all the way down here because I have a boo-boo?”

“No, I brought you down here because the next conversation we have is not for their ears.” He tapped on the wall. “I had the bedrooms soundproofed.”

“Bring lots of lovers on board, do you?” If the concept bothered her, she did a damn fine job of covering it.

“I prefer not to have the screams from my prisoners keeping me awake.”

The corners of her mouth tightened. She didn’t like how he ignored giving her confirmation or denial on his proclivities.

Good.

“What do you want to know now?” The fight evaporated from her, leaving only a weary woman in its wake.

“Montague Arkady—his pursuit is why you left Chrystal.” Even as she’d given him the details, he’d been too angry to process what it meant for her.

“Yes.”

“If you hadn’t encountered them, and you returned home as planned, you would have been there when I closed in.” He’d never considered himself one for self-flagellation; then again, he’d stopped examining his motives too closely when he’d continued to pursue Dallas.

“Maybe. I learned a long time ago to keep moving. Chrystal slowed me down, only in as much as she needed me, so I always had a backup. Safe houses, and stashes around the company. A couple of times, when she was very little, I even went to the Oregon house. You never sold it.”

He couldn’t bear to part with the potential it had represented. “I knew that.” Pathetic, he’d held onto that flimsy tie.

“I’m glad. We were happy there…for a while.”

Yes, they had been. For a while. Why the hell hadn’t she told him the truth about Chrystal? “Will you answer me this time?”

“No.” Sitting up, she spread her hands. “Nothing I can say to you will ever absolve me of the crime of denying you or Chrystal knowing each other after she’d been born. I could tell you that by breaking the laws, you could have been executed or I could have…and she would have been an orphan raised by your family or mine. Neither was an option to me. Diesel’s your cousin, and he’s okay, but I don’t know anything about the rest of your family.”

He opened his mouth, but she held up a hand.

“You never told me anything about them. You never named your alpha, or where you grew up. The disconnect between who you were before the war and after was absolute. I accepted that.” She didn’t hide her scent from him, and every word rang with truth. “We were lovers who became semi-regular until the day you sprang the Oregon house on me. Still it took me a while to realize...you weren’t just keeping the wolf you’d been before the war from me, but the wolf you were after.”

“What?” The statement made no damn sense. “You knew exactly who I was. I was your Enforcer.”

“You were an Enforcer, sure. Once you kept coming back, once we played…once we let ourselves begin to get crispy dancing in and out of the fire, you kept that part of your life separate, too.”

“If I did it, I did it to protect—”

“Don’t do that.” She pushed off the bed and stalked toward him. Ferociousness seethed around her. “Don’t you dare declare you were protecting me. You were protecting the Lone Wolves. You were protecting the packs. You’re always protecting something Julian. That’s your raison d'être, the catch-all for every choice you make. The problem is, when you slice off so many pieces of yourself, and you isolate them, which you is it? Which you did I have? And what were you afraid of? Being who you are, the whole great big ugly package? Or having to leave the life you’d chosen for yourself to be with me?”

Battered, he gripped her arms and hauled her close, mouth hovering near hers. Dallas was no wilting flower—if she wanted him to let go, she could break his grip. Every bit as strong as him and meaner, perhaps. She had no compunction about killing or second chances. Not like he did.

Maybe it made him a fool, but he had to know.

At this distance, their breath mingled and the scent of her filled his nostrils. “I protect. I take care of what’s mine…it’s who I am. Whether I am enforcer, friend, or lover…is that what you wanted? For me to choose you above and beyond everything else?”

A fist hammering on the door interrupted before she could answer, and Julian growled. The sound ripped out of him. A mask slipped over her features and the brief moment of vulnerability she’d allowed him to glimpse vanished.

Releasing her, he jerked the door open.

“Sorry, boss,” Margo said without an ounce of genuine apology. “I made a call, since you said it was mine to make.”

Wariness rolled up his spine.

She continued, “I called the alphas and looped them all in. They’re paying a price in blood for a war which may very well be directed at you. They want you and her to meet with them.”

“All of them?” Arrogant idiots. “Diesel is not going to leave his pack for that.”

“Probably not, but they can dial him in. Just warning you. As soon as we make port, Mitch and John are supposed to bring you two in. Not really thinking Mitch is going to go for it and John won’t do anything Hadley doesn’t like.”

If all his Enforcers rejected the law, it created an inescapable fissure, which could endanger everything.

“You and Salvatore should go home. This isn’t your fight anymore.” Margo had done her duty, done what she promised.

“Julian…”

“It’s okay,” he said, touching a finger beneath her chin in a light chuck. “Go on, tell Mitch at first light to weigh anchor, and we’ll head to Seattle.”

Closing the door after her, he found Dallas sprawled on her side on the bed. Locking the door, he stripped off his shirt and settled on the bed next to her. He shut off the light, and they lay there together, in the dark.

“Julian?”

“Yeah?”

“If the words take off come out of your mouth when we get to Seattle, and you’re planning to let me go while you face off with the alphas by yourself, I’ll knock your ass out again.” Her hand found his, and the strangest sensation went over him. Turning the situation over in his mind, he still couldn’t identify how one incident decades before could result in so much bloodshed just to find him.

Rolling over, he slid an arm around her waist and pulled her back to his chest. When he eased a knee between her thighs, she rubbed her palm over the back of his hand. Setting his nose to her hair, he inhaled her scent.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered the words. “I’m sorry I didn’t give you the chance with Chrystal…”

Closing his eyes, he squeezed her once. The apology couldn’t give him back the time lost. Maybe it could open the door to something else. His wolf settled, but remained on guard.

This was far from over. We’re far from over, his wolf amended. Julian wasn’t ready for that.

Not yet.