“Don’t you feel it?” Aaron snapped, spinning to face him.
“Of course I feel it.” Harry jabbed a finger at the window. “Sunset’s about six hours away. Everyone’s feeling it.”
Sighing, Aaron marched over and sat down next to him. “That’s not what I meant.” He let his head fall back onto the cushion behind him. “There’s just… I don’t know. Something not quite right.”
Harry didn’t roll his eyes, but Aaron knew he wanted to. “That’s probably you pining after Michael.”
Aaron scoffed. “I’m not pining.”
“No?”
“No.”
Raising both eyebrows, Harry began to list things on his fingers. “You’ve moped about your flat ever since Friday night. You barely ate anything yesterday when I came round.”
“I cleared my plate!”
“Yeah, but usually you’d have seconds too.”
Okay, that might be true. “I was full.”
“Because you’re pining.”
“Fuck off.”
Harry grinned at him. “All this business with Detective Archer and the—”
“Detective Sergeant.”
He did roll his eyes this time. “My mistake. Anyway, all that coupled with the full moon messing with your senses, you’re bound to feel out of sorts.”
“Maybe.”
“You know I’m—”
The familiar ringtone on Aaron’s mobile silenced them both.
That was their alpha calling.
With dread pooling in his belly, Aaron answered the call. “Hello?”
“Hey, Aaron, is Harry with you?”
“Yep.”
“Good. Put me on speaker.”
Aaron set his phone on the coffee table in front of them. “We can both hear you now.”
The sigh that followed didn’t bode well. “I spoke with Detective Sergeant Archer an hour or so ago.” Aaron swallowed down the disappointment that Michael hadn’t called him instead. “It seems there’s been some developments in their case.”
“Oh?”
“Two months ago, Daryl White applied to the alpha council for permission to be bitten and join whatever pack would take him.”
“Bloody hell,” Harry mouthed, and Aaron wholeheartedly agreed.
“What’s wrong with him?”
