Stig hadn’t given Dane a moment of peace for the last forty-eight hours. He had already been a nuisance about Cara having the potion, but the developments at the Moonlight Ball had him consumed with grief and ready to take his anger out on the person he thought responsible. Stig was convinced that Cara had killed their mate, and although Dane wanted to stick his head in the sand and deny it, the logical part of his mind couldn’t discount it. He needed to talk to her, he just hoped he could keep Stig at bay. Dane knew her schedule like the back of his hand and knew she’d be at the gym. He just hoped she’d be alone. It wasn’t exactly a private setting, but at least it wasn’t the packhouse where the finely tuned ears of the maids were looking to absorb every skerrick of gossip. 

“Thomas! Stop her!” thundered Dane, rushing over. Henrik wrenched the handle of the whip from her, but as he handed it to Dane and began to free Lucas, the she-wolf lunged again. She was now holding the pliers as a weapon and her wild eyes were fixed on the Alpha.  Acting on sheer instinct, Henrik dove and intercepted her, his entire body weight crashing on top of her on the cold, hard concrete. Thomas let out a painful, sorrowful roar, and Henrik opened his eyes to see the back of her skull cracked open, blood quickly pooling from it.  He’d killed her. He hadn’t meant to, but his weight, combined with the speed and the hard floor… The sound of clothes ripping sliced through

Chewing his way through a mouthful of scrambled eggs, Henrik heard someone call out his name from across the packhouse dining room. He turned to see Cara, a bundle of energy, rushing towards him. “I’m so glad I ran into you alone,” she said, taking a seat at the table with him. “Carrrr... Luna! How lovely to see you.” “Oh, Henrik please. Screw the formalities,” she said with a wave of her hand as he laughed. “So, what’s up?” “I have a favour to ask. After all the vandalism in the packhouse and the graffiti on my car… well, I’m a bit nervous.” 

Thomas opened his eyes, blinking slowly as his surroundings came into focus. His head pounded and he could smell the stale stench of whiskey wafting from his own breath. His back and neck ached, and he stretched, cracking them into place. Another night spent sleeping in his office chair, lulled to sleep by the amber liquid sitting on the desk in front of him. He picked up the empty bottle and hurled it across the room, watching it shatter to pieces against the wall. He’d had everything going for him, and in a matter of weeks his life had crumbled, turning to rubble around him. His mate was gone. Her body left to burn to ash as an enemy of the pack. No headstone or marker left for him to visit – not that there would be anything to put on a headstone, he didn’t even know her. 

While everybody’s focus was on the stunning and radiant Luna making a speech on the stage, Dane’s attention was on the slimy looking former rogue standing at the back of the crowd. He needed to know why he’d come and what he wanted. He used Cara’s distraction to slip through the crowd and sneak up behind him. Forcefully gripping his arm, he yanked him backwards, away from the crowd. The rogue was ready for a fight but relaxed when he saw Dane’s face, giving a sly smile.  Dane continued dragging him until they were in a secluded section of the garden and had some privacy. “What the fuck are you doing here?” asked Dane coldly. The rogue wolf held up his hands in mock surr