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“A rogue breached our borders. Though it’s atypical of larger packs, Riaz is our hunter, and dispatches any rogues that enter our territory.”
“Why is it atypical?”
“Alphas usually assign someone to the role. Riaz prefers to do the work himself, sparing anyone else from having to put their neck on the line for his pack.”
Cortana bit her lip, frowning. “Did something go wrong?”
Ava startled. “When?”
“When Riaz was hunting today,” she replied, wondering why the other woman had reacted so strangely. “His wolf was clearly running the show when he returned to the den just now.”
A breath of air escaped through Ava’s lips.
“No, nothing went wrong.” One side of her mouth pulled back in a grimace. “There’s a darkness in rogues that Riaz … that he feels more intensely than most.”
“And why is that?” Cortana kept pushing, determined to unveil the reason behind the sudden shift in Riaz’s personality. It was a conundrum—and one she intended to solve.
“It is not my place to say.” She jerked her chin to the gym behind the set of doors they’d stopped before. “He’ll be in there. If I may ask a favor of you?”
“What?”
“See to him for me?”
Hope clung to Ava’s words, each syllable a study in devotion. Tense silence hung between them for a moment before Cortana nodded. At once, Ava left, leaving her alone in the hallway. Before she could talk herself out of it, she pushed the doors open and followed the sounds of violence.
Riaz stood alone, his fists connecting with the reinforced punching bag. With each hit, the bag shuddered, swinging precariously as his muscle flexed and bunched. The darkness that seemed to cling to him earlier had abated, as if the physical exertion had helped him find his balance.
“Riaz?”
Startled, his muscles locked in place for a half second before he pivoted, eyes wild and orange with his wolf. Riaz ensnared her gaze.
“Cortana.”
The wild vanished with no trace as soon as he said her name, and she offered him a half-smile. The way she’d looked at him earlier—like he was a monster—made her feel guilty.
“Are you okay?”
In a split second, his cockiness returned in full force. “Nah, I’d counter ‘okay’ and raise you a ‘handsome.’”
The barely concealed roll of her eyes released the remaining effects of tension from her small frame.
“Handsome men, in my humble opinion, typically have soup for brains.”
Riaz reached out to still the swinging bag, raising a single eyebrow. “Shall I be more outraged that you’ve called me inept, or infuriated that you won’t admit I’m handsome?”
“Unfortunately for you, wolfie, you got the short end of the stick.”
“Sneaky vampire,” he tsked. “Which short end? Dumb but pretty or smart but hideous?”
She purposefully swallowed the laugh that threatened on her tongue. “You’re an overgrown Chihuahua with leaning towers of paper in his office. Which one do you think it is?”
Riaz gushed, “Aw, Pet, I’m blushing.”
Barking a laugh in genuine delight, he hauled the punching bag off its hooks and threw it over his shoulder before moving to stow it away. Joy had fully overridden the threatening aura he carried on his return from the hunt, and Cortana was happy to see him smiling again.
“Riaz?”
Pausing, he glanced over his shoulder at her. “Yes, Cort?”
