Torin slammed the door, hard, making the dog bark in fright. He ignored it and sat back down in front of the fire, his mouth in a thin, tight line. Sasha was trying to needle her way into his mind but he wasn’t going to let him.

His ears caught the sound of footsteps, followed by a slight creak from just outside the door. His nose caught a familiar scent, just as the door handle turned.

“James?” he called, waiting for his second in command to open the door fully. “I hope you’ve brought something good with you!”

James, tall with a shock of grey hair, opened the door, walked in and threw himself into the chair opposite from Torin. “If you’re talking about whisky, then yes, I might have a bottle. I was just wondering what you were planning to do with that human up in your room. I heard her crying again. It’s a little annoying I’ll admit, but if you’re stuck for ideas, I’ve got a few things that come to mind,” he said with a leer.

A low growl reverberated through Torin’s throat, his lip curling a little. James might be one of the ruling members, second only to himself, but there had been a few occasions recently when he’d overstepped his place. This was one of those occasions. Catching Sasha had been his plan and that meant no one else in his pack was to touch her.

James colored, his dark eyes darting away from Torin. “Sorry,” he mumbled, running one hand through his hair. “Just trying to lift your mood a little. It’s obvious you’re tense.”

Torin sighed heavily, closing his eyes for a moment. “My brother’s dead and I’ve got his killer in my room,” he said, opening his eyes and lifting one eyebrow. “Is it any surprise I’m tense?”

James gave him a slightly rueful smile, looking a little embarrassed.  “Whisky?”

Grunting his approval, Torin accepted a measure from James, appreciating the warmth that spread through his chest as he took a sip.

“Best thing about this part of the world,” he muttered, forgetting about the Shadow pack for a moment.

James chuckled, before sitting back down. “And just as well it’s free!”

Torin rolled his eyes. “Not quite free, James. Just because our pack makes it doesn’t mean that each sip doesn’t cost us something.” Then again, there could be worse job descriptions.

The McBain pack had long been involved in the whisky industry, up in the highlands of Scotland. Torin had taken over both the company and the leadership of the pack when his father had grown too old to continue doing both. Torin still grieved for him, even though it was five years since he’d passed away. The pack had always been a strong one, and Torin had to admit that he enjoyed what he did. The whisky they produced was one of the best in all of Scotland, and they exported it around the globe. It provided enough work for every member of his pack and the woods behind their manufacturing plant gave them ample space to roam and hunt. All in all, life had been going very well, right up until Sasha had stolen his brother away from him.

That wasn’t to say that Thomas hadn’t been distant recently. Several clan members had commented that Thomas had become more distant in recent months, barely coming around the clan at all. But that didn’t mean he was a fucking serial killer! Torin told himself heatedly.

“What about that thing?” James asked, curling his lip as he pointed toward Sasha’s small dog.

Torin snorted, seeing Bramble lying on his back beside the fire. “That mutt’s hers. I’m keeping it here for the time being.”

There was a brief silence. “Right,” James murmured, quietly.

“I can’t let it go in case it raises the alarm,” Torin explained, frustrated with James’ constant questions.

“Do you want me to get rid of it?”

Although James’ suggestion was meant to be helpful, Torin recoiled at the idea. “No, I don’t think so,” he replied, the contents of his stomach curdling a little at James’ cold hearted suggestion to take care of the innocent animal. “It’s better to keep it alive right now. More leverage that way.”

James didn’t say anything, although a slight frown appeared at his brow. Torin refrained from saying anything more, thinking that James was becoming a little bit of an annoyance as opposed to the strong second in command he was meant to be.

“I’ll need you to keep an eye on things with the rest of the pack for the next few days,” he said, hoping that James would accept the responsibility gratefully and stop asking Torin questions about Sasha. “I’ve got her to deal with and I need to decide what to do with her.”

“Of course,” James murmured, getting up to fill up Torin’s glass with another measure of whisky. “You do what you have to. We all miss Thomas. It’s not right that she took him out like she did, just to make herself look good.”

“Exactly.”

Torin swirled the whisky around in his glass, his eyes narrowing as he thought of how Sasha had tried to manipulate him, how she’d had the gall to suggest that it was him that was in the wrong and not her. She’d tried to throw the blame off herself, and he wasn’t about to listen to her. So why wasn’t he able to even let himself think about what he was going to do to her? He’d wanted to inflict pain and suffering on her, burying her in the same agony he felt, but when he’d popped her shoulder back into its place, the relief on her face had made his heart twist with sympathy. It hadn’t been a feeling he’d either wanted or needed. In fact, it made him angry just to think that way.

Shaking his head to himself, Torin threw back the rest of his whisky and held out his glass for another measure. He would continue to trust his instincts and his instincts said his brother was innocent. They’d never let him down yet and he wasn’t about to stop listening to them now.

“Want to go for a run?”

Torin chuckled, his wolf already awake and aware of what James had said. “I probably should,” he said, aware that the tension he’d carried with him since he’d heard about Thomas’ death had already begun to ease. Capturing Sasha had obviously played a big part in that.

“It’s been a few days,” James grinned, before throwing back the rest of his whisky. “The rest of the pack have been wondering where you are.”

“I’m sure you’re doing fine taking the lead,” Torin muttered, pushing himself up from his seat. He knew full well that James wanted to lead his own pack someday, but it certainly wouldn’t be the McBain pack. Of course, Torin had wanted Thomas to be second in command, but for whatever reason, his brother had refused to take on that role. It just meant that, sometime soon, Torin was going to have to think about having cubs of his own, to carry on the family line. That was even more important now that Thomas was gone.

“Is Thomas’ place still crawling with police?” he asked, as they walked out of the house together, Torin locking the door before hanging up the key in its usual hiding place.

“Not sure,” James answered, pulling off his shirt in preparation to shift. “We can go up that way if you want, maybe see what’s going on?”

Torin paused. The police had told him that he could go in once it was all cleared, but, as yet, he hadn’t had a call about it. Torin guessed it was because they hadn’t found the evidence they were looking for, even though Sasha had promised to show him what they had against his brother. Probably they were looking for a way to get it to look like Thomas had been the killer, so they could tie up the investigation in a neat little bow.

“Yeah,” he grunted, tugging off his own t-shirt. “Let’s go. It’s getting late and I doubt they’d have anyone hanging about now.”

“You never know,” James warned, shaking his head. “They seemed pretty determined not to let anyone in until they finished whatever they’re doing.”

Torin didn’t answer, his body already trembling in preparation for the change. With a deep breath, Torin closed his eyes and let his wolf push through his skin. The sound of his bones cracking echoed around him, although he forced himself not to cry out. His muscles lengthened, his limbs twisted and changed until, with a last burst of agonizing pain, his wolf came through.

Panting heavily, Torin glanced to his left to see James in the last stage of his change. It didn’t take more than a minute before they were both ready, adrenaline pumping through Torin’s veins.

Let’s go, he said, his voice echoing in James’ mind. Carefully, now. Just in case.

James set off at once, and Torin followed behind. At the end of the road, he paused and looked back at the house, seeing a small shadow moving around in the upstairs window. Sasha wouldn’t have been able to see what had happened, and he had no concerns about leaving her in that room alone. There was no way she could get out and certainly no way she could even consider trying to climb down from her window.

A ripple of disquiet ran through him as he turned his nose back to the path, pushing forward until he caught up with James. What if, once he finally got into Thomas’ house, he found something that pressed the smallest of doubts into his mind? What if the evidence she’d told him about was actually there?

A slight growl came from his throat, unbidden. He wasn’t going to allow himself to start doubting. Just because she was trying to engender some sympathy from him didn’t mean he was about to lose his desire for revenge. He’d show her exactly who Thomas had been, what he’d meant to him and then, finally, he’d punish her for what he’d done.

Except, Torin wasn’t quite sure any more what he was going to do. He had thought of tearing her heart from her body, but that had been in the depths of his anger. Killing her was not something he could ever bring himself to do, although he did want to inflict the same kind of pain on her that he was experiencing.

Bramble was the only thing that had made her weak, but even now Torin didn’t see himself killing the dog. It was an innocent creature, even though it was a yappy little thing. So what exactly was it he was going to do?

She’ll pay, he told himself, deciding that he’d come to a conclusion later. One way or another, she’s going to pay for what she did to my brother.