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“As mentioned, our pack member who worked there was aware of who the founder was. It was with luck that they recognised Ryan as being a Grey,” George says. “They came to us with the information, and they asked if we’d like them to leave, since they know about our bad blood with the Grey pack.”
“And, of course, you wouldn’t have wanted that if it meant you lost eyes on the competition,” Topher says, and George shrugs.
It’s not like he can argue otherwise.
“How did you know it was Ryan?” Maia asks, the question slipping out by surprise, it seems. She’s tensed back up, and I’m not sure what she expects from them.
“Well, who else would it have been?” George asks her with a scoff. “Ryan was the only one with the ability to do it.”
I frown. “They’re not being honest. I can smell his deceit. Hear the way his heart sped up ever so slightly. He’s lying. He’s been lying for a while.”
Kane pushes forward and gently places Maia onto her own chair as he takes control of our body. I’m more than happy to let that happen, and I sit back in the chair.
“Liar,” my wolf hisses, the word echoing around the room. My three dads flinch. “How did you know about Ryan and Fresh Fur Creations?”
They can’t ignore the command, the pull of information.
Because my wolf is stronger than theirs.
As one, they all whisper, “Henry.”
42
MAIA
“Henry,” the three identical men say. Their voices are in sync, the word a quiet but deep growl.
My heart drops, and it takes me a second to remember where that name fits into the picture. Henry. Henry Wolfe. Henry Grey.
“Ryan’s dad told you to kill him?” I ask, far more hesitant than they were in asking. The weight of my daughter on my chest feels monumental in this instance, and I’m torn between racing out of here and bursting into tears.
What on Earth is going on with this family? It’s bad enough that aunt and uncles were plotting to kill their nephew, but to know Ryan’s dad was in on it, too—was the catalyst of it?
From everything that’s been shared so far, I can’t understand why Henry would reach out to his brothers, or even more, why they would listen. How is this the norm for these people?
We’ve sat here, and all they’re doing is defending their actions… they’ve not shown remorse or guilt for trying to kill their nephew. She mentioned that she went to an event two years ago to contract his killer, but Ryan founded Fresh Fur Creations six years ago. Sure, I didn’t manage to help him get the funding from Howling Hope until he was in his final year of uni, but that’s still a good two years of a fully functioning company before she admits to trying to kill him seriously.
How long have the death threats been happening? How long have people been trying to hurt my fiancé?
It physically hurts to find out that he’s spent so long being targeted, harmed, attacked, and because he couldn’t tell me what he was, because he couldn’t share the horrific details of his past… he couldn’t share this burden with me.
I couldn’t help the first love of my life with the horrors he suffered.
But I’m determined to get justice for him.
“What Ryan was doing, what his company is behind, it’s not a good thing for any of the wolf-kind,” Edward says, leaning across the table to give me a soft smile. It doesn’t soothe me the way he seems to think it will. He seems to think that by dumbing it down and patronising me over my lack of understanding that he’s helping.
Instead, it just makes me feel that much worse. They’ve decided an action Ryan is doing is worthy of death. I’m not sure I can agree.
They’re acting like they’re the jury and the executioner. Like they have the right to just murder my fiancé. But nobody has the right to take another’s life, not in this way.
That might be my ignorance, maybe in their laws they do, but that doesn’t make it any better. We outlawed the death penalty because it’s an inhumane thing to do.
Killing Ryan, killing their nephew, it makes me sick.
I understand the negatives this scent adjuster thing could do. I’ve seen it firsthand with the way Ethan has been managing to get onto pack lands and disguise his scent. It’s scary, and dangerous, and well… it’s no wonder they’re feeling a little murderous.
The damage it could cause to packs, the things rogues could do with it… it’s terrifying. Imagining the way fifty or one hundred people could use it, blend in and launch an attack or invade somewhere.
