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“I heard about the snare. Mind if I take a look?” Dominic eyed the snow-white bunny that had its head tucked in the crook of Beckett’s arms.
“I’ll show you where it was.” Beckett led him out into the forest. It didn’t take long for Dominic to spot the snare, and he knew right away that it wasn’t something a regular hunter would use. “This is definitely poacher’s work.”
Beckett’s face darkened, and Dominic could see the anger simmering just beneath the surface. “I was afraid of that. I’ll kill them if they come back.”
Dominic squeezed Beckett’s shoulder in sympathy. The Lovato brothers had lost their parents over a month ago, down in Costa Rica, where their deaths had been labeled an accident. Dominic had talked at length with Milly, the housekeeper who worked for the family and was a dear friend of his.
It hadn’t been an accident. The parents had been hunted and killed in the most gruesome manner.
When Dominic was a cub, hunters killed his father, so he knew the loss and pain Beckett and his brothers felt.
“I’m going to keep an eye on the forest,” Dominic said. “I don’t want a repeat of last year.”
“What happened last year?” Beckett asked.
“Tillman, the guy who owns The Sugar Well, and his human mate were in the forest when they spotted men with rifles. When the humans tried to shoot Tillman, he killed them.”
That was the condensed version.
“Good,” Beckett said, his jaw still clenched. “The same is going to happen if I run across any on my property.”
And no one would blame Beckett. When Dominic had become sheriff, he’d gone to the mayor about hunting in Midnight Falls. Since Mayor Elijah Doyle was a Bengal tiger, it had been banned in their small, sleepy town. Some residents were up in arms about not being able to hunt and had formed a rally against it, but in the end, the new law had stuck.
“Call me if you notice anymore traps.” Dominic would try his best to stay on top of this, but they didn’t have a large police force and he and his men were already spread thin just dealing with everyday matters.
Beckett nodded, and Dominic headed back to his cruiser. He had a feeling that this wasn’t the last he’d hear of the this, but he would do everything in his power to protect the residents.
* * * *
Santee had to get home before his brother punished him for not being there to cook, clean, do laundry, and so on.
He was basically Marvell’s maid, only Santee never got paid for his efforts. In fact, the part-time job Santee had at the grocery store—because his brother refused to let him work full-time—was worked without much reward since Marvell took most of his paycheck, claiming the money went toward bills.
Not a chance. The house was paid for in full, thanks to their parents. Even the utilities came out of their parents’ bank account. Marvell didn’t think Santee knew that, but he did.
Unfortunately, Santee’s mate wouldn’t put him down long enough for him to take off. Beckett kept Santee tucked in his arm, like he was a real freaking bunny in the wild instead of a shifter.
If Santee shifted, he would be lying in Beckett’s arms, completely naked, and since they were still downstairs, no thanks. Shifters usually didn’t care about being nude around each other, but Marvell had shamed Santee his entire life about his scrawny frame, his lack of muscles, and how weird his nipples looked, so much so that Santee never shifted in front of anyone.
Except when Beckett had forced him to do so in the forest.
Regrettably, Santee also knew why those hunters were in the forest. He’d been following the humans, trying to make sure they didn’t kill any shifters, and that was when he’d gotten caught in that snare.
He should tell his mate the truth, but Santee feared his brother more than he feared five cheetahs—even the housekeeper was a cheetah—and a sheriff who’d smelled like straight-up bear.
People would think he was crazy for that kind of logic, but no one knew just how toxic Marvell was or how Santee had spent his entire life being the target of his brother’s cruelty.
At least cheetahs and a bear would kill him quickly, whereas Marvell took great joy in torturing him.
When Beckett headed for the stairs, Santee was relieved. If his mate put him in a bed to rest and heal, that would be Santee’s chance to escape and get home before Marvell flipped his lid.
As Beckett ascended the stairs, Santee’s heart pounded. He had to get away. The thought of facing Marvell’s wrath was terrifying. He needed to find a way to slip out of Beckett’s grasp and make a run for it.
Beckett gently placed Santee on the bed, his eyes filled with concern. “You need to rest,” he said. “I’ll bring you some food and something to drink in a bit. If you need me before that, I’ll be downstairs, conejito.”
It would mean leaving his mate behind when Santee left, and even though he didn’t have a choice, his heart still ached at the thought. He liked how caring Beckett was and didn’t want to leave, but Santee had to keep an eye on things at home.
When Beckett exited the room, Santee quickly shifted and swung his legs over the side of the bed, his heart racing. He took a deep breath and hurried over to the window. They were on the second floor, which meant the fall might break a bone or two.
