“Thank you.” She bit her smiling lip and leaned up onto her elbow on her side, facing me.

When her blue eyes drifted over my erection and she unconsciously licked her lips, I began to have serious doubts about how well this “talk” was going to go.

Her skin was flushed, her nipples hard, and the aroma of her dripping pussy hung heavily in the air between us, too strong a scent to be ignored.

Fuck. I couldn’t afford to screw this up, though. Not when I was making progress. She’d been laughing a moment ago, and now she was smiling at me.

“What’d you want to talk about?” I prompted, quietly praying she stuck to easy questions, because there wasn’t enough blood supply flowing to my brain for it to handle much else.

“Are you really a manny?”

“Not in the traditional, professional sense, no. But yes, in the sense that I am committed to spending a good portion of my time mentoring a little werelock girl with special powers and special needs in an effort to help her work through her challenges.”

Her eyes softened on me, and she gave me an adoring look.

This could work. If I steered the conversation right, I’d be fingering her ass and eating her out before we landed. We still had several hours left to go, given our delayed late-afternoon takeoff.

“And you went to see her tonight? Because she had a nightmare?”

“Yep.”

I didn’t elaborate. Because Bethy had rolled onto her stomach, crossing her legs at the ankles—putting her pert, beautiful hiney on display.

She frowned and asked, “But where are her parents? Shouldn’t they be the ones to comfort her after she’s had a nightmare?” Her hand flew up to her mouth. “Oh, no, is she an orphan?”

She was completely oblivious to the torment she was putting me through. My dick twitched and leaked precum when I failed to suppress fantasies of climbing on top of her and sliding between her plump cheeks to impale her pussy from behind—maybe with her thighs tied together just above the knees so she’d be crazy tight.

I shook myself internally. Just answer the question.

What was the question?

I swallowed. “No. Not an orphan. She has a mom and a … stepdad … of sorts.”

“You don’t like the stepdad?”

“Nah, I like Sloane’s stepdad just fine.” Not a complete lie. I liked the fact that Alcaeus was good at doing the shit that I didn’t want to do when it came to running a pack. I liked that he made Avery happy, and that he would lay down his life to protect her and Sloane. And I liked the leverage he afforded me with his former pack that my sister now headed.

“His name’s Alcaeus. I’ve known him for years. He’s a great guy.” I forced an agreeable expression. “He works for me, actually. He’s my second in command.” Technically speaking. “Sloane’s mom, Avery, is a good friend of mine. You’ll love her. Avery is also a higher-ranking member of my pack.”

Bethany nodded absently, worrying her lip as she rocked her crossed ankles up and down, highlighting her toned hamstring and glute muscles in the process each time her legs curled back. I was going to come all over myself like a thirteen-year-old boy before this conversation was through.

“I look forward to meeting them. But why don’t Sloane’s parents take care of her when she has nightmares, Raul? Why do they call you?”

“It’s complicated,” I told her truthfully, then paused to consider my next words carefully. Where to start?

Mind off pussy. Mind off pussy.

“So, werelocks have the ability to enter a human’s mind and um … well, read their thoughts. More or less.” Damn, that could’ve been delivered better.

Way better, I realized, when Bethany’s eyes widened in alarm and she sputtered, “Oh, my God. Please tell me you’re not serious. Are you in my head right now? For how long?” She sat up and snatched a sheet, then proceeded to wrap it around her, covering her nakedness from me. “Shit, I remember Mike saying something about hearing Gregg’s thoughts back at my apartment. I should’ve thought to question it sooner, but I just forgot with all the other information the guys were sharing—”

“Bethy, calm down. I am not in your head.” Calm down and please take the sheet back off. “I have never even once been inside your head. I promise.” Not for lack of trying. I held three fingers up. “Scout’s honor.”

Her throat bobbed. “Really? What about Mike? Or Tiago? Or—”

“None of my men have ever been inside your head either.”

“Are you sure? Why not?”

Ah, fuck me. I was headed straight to hell already, so …

“Because I respect your feelings and your right to privacy too much.”

Her eyes shone with unshed tears. “You mean that?”

I nodded. I was the lowest form of human being.

“Thank you.” She crawled over to me, dropping the sheet in the process, and kissed me sweetly on the mouth.

I’d already lost my erection though. Gently, I pressed against her shoulder, holding her back, then nudging her away from me. Scrubbing a hand over my face, I got up from the bed and conjured pants onto myself.

And I began pacing.

“Raul? Is something wrong?”

“No. I just don’t want us to lose focus. We haven’t finished talking about Sloane. Or mind-reading.” I couldn’t even look at her as I continued. “As I was saying, werelocks can read human minds and the minds of most common werewolves. To that end, werelocks can compel humans and werewolves to basically do their bidding as well. And they can sometimes alter memories and sway thoughts.”

Geez, it sounded so insidious and dirty when I explained it out loud to Bethany like that. The gasp that came from the bed reinforced it.

“That’s horrible!”

I nodded. “Mm-hmm.” Get to the important points. Rip it off like a Band-Aid.

“Within a pack, werelocks will often access other werelocks’ minds from time to time as a means of communication. The Alpha and higher-ranking werelocks within a pack typically have access to all lower-ranking werelocks’ minds. But there are exceptions. For example, no one has access to Sloane’s mind. However, Sloane has the ability to pull me into her mind when she needs me.” I stopped pacing and looked over to gauge Bethy’s reaction.

She looked completely spellbound. And shell-shocked.

“But she only does it when she’s having nightmares. So I’m not sure she’s entirely conscious of what she’s doing. And she’s only ever pulled me inside her mind like that. She’s never done it with anyone else.”

“Not even her mom?”

I shook my head.

“Why you?”

“Dunno. Sloane and I have just always had a really strong connection I guess.” Not a complete lie. There was no way I was going into the whole Maribel reincarnation with Bethany. “And I like her.” I shrugged. “She’s a great kid. Her behavior can be pretty off sometimes, so people have a hard time understanding and accepting her. But she’s amazing. Really funny, too.” I couldn’t help but crack a smile. “You’ll see when you meet her.”

“How old is she again?”

“Nine years and eight months.”

A beatific grin broke out on Bethany’s face. She looked like an angel with her halo of tangled, freshly fucked golden hair sticking out in all directions. Yet the expression on her face unsettled me. She was regarding me like I was some kind of a hero for my relationship with Sloane. I wasn’t.

I felt my own smile fall away.

“That is so incredibly beautiful, Raul,” she gushed.

I scrubbed a hand over my mouth. “Look, you should know, the werewolf world centers around a lot of belief in superstitions and prophecies, which often results in a good deal of paranoia. Pack life means everything to wolves. It’s hard to fathom at first for those of us who were born human, but there’s an immediate, instinctive pull to belong to a pack when you first become a werewolf.”

“You felt like that? When you … became one?”

“Yeah. I did.”

“When—how did—?”

“That’s a conversation for another time.” Hopefully not anytime soon. “In order for you to understand the situation with Sloane, you need to understand that in our society, rogue werewolves are considered an abomination of nature. Separation from pack life makes werewolves unstable, and ultimately, demented and violent. The threat of exposure their existence creates puts all other werewolves in danger.” Here goes. “So in our world, the overarching rule of every pack is that all rogue werewolves must be exterminated.”

She let out a gasp. The expression of horror that marred her face was every bit as bad as I’d suspected her reaction would be.

“To protect the greater good, of course,” I appended.

Her pretty blue eyes shot fiery condemnation at me. “That is the most bigoted, intolerant, tyrannical—”

“You’re absolutely right.” I held my hand up. “I completely agree.”

Not a complete lie. Not a complete truth either. But hers was exactly the reaction I’d been angling for to set up where I was taking this conversation next. And besides, the fastest way to appease any woman was to tell her she was one hundred percent correct, no matter what the argument was. It worked, because Bethany closed her mouth and allowed me to continue.

“So there’s this centuries-old prophecy about a powerful Rogue-with-a-capital-R werewolf coming into existence who will usher forth the birth of a new breed of werewolf species: An aberrant rogue species completely unbeholden to the pack mentality and way of life to which all werewolves presently adhere. That prophesied werewolf—werelock, rather—is Sloane.”

I didn’t get to finger her ass again or eat her out before we landed. We ended up talking for most of the remainder of the flight, until Bethy’s eyelids were blinking and drooping so much that I knew I had to stop and allow her to rest.

Her face had been a study in wonder and rapt concentration as I’d attempted to educate her on the werewolf world without completely overwhelming her. Or revealing information I didn’t want to share just yet.

She’d tried to bring up Miles once, asking again how much my sister knew about my supernatural life, and again, I’d simply put her off—this time intentionally making her think that my estrangement from my sister was a sore topic for me that I couldn’t bear to discuss.

In truth, it was a sore subject that I preferred to avoid. But with Bethany, revealing that her childhood friend Miles was, in fact, a werelock herself, and currently Alpha of one of the oldest, largest, most powerful werewolf packs on the planet—which also happened to be my Salvatella pack’s longtime enemy and rival—was a slippery road leading to any number of dangerous cliffsides.