Page 41 of Howl About That

He leaned down and brushed his lips against hers in a gentle kiss, tasting the promise of their future. When they broke apart, she walked toward her modest SUV with renewed purpose in her step.

But as Keiro watched her drive away, Sander's words echoed in his mind. The man's accusations had been designed to wound, but there was something else there—something far more dangerous. His wolf prowled, sensing a threat. Every instinct told him to fix this, to remove the obstacle that dared threaten his mate and their future.

The heavy oak door of his family estate slammed shut behind Keiro with enough force to rattle the antique stained-glass panels. His wolf was agitated and restless, the encounter with Sander burning through his veins like acid. The bastard's smug confidence, his calculated cruelty toward Poppy, the wayhe'd looked at her like she was something to be conquered—it all made Keiro's vision flash red with barely restrained fury.

He stalked through the marble-floored foyer without acknowledging the ancestral portraits that lined the walls. The familiar scents of cedar and rain that usually grounded him did nothing to calm the storm building in his chest. His protective instincts screamed at him to return to Poppy immediately, to station himself at her side until this threat was neutralized. But the logical part of him insisted on gathering more information first.

The estate's office occupied the entire east wing's second floor, a testament to generations of Izell business dealings. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the sprawling territory beyond, while mahogany shelves housed everything from first-edition business texts to his father's collection of territorial maps. Keiro bypassed it all, heading straight for the massive desk that dominated the room's center.

He sat down in the expensive office chair and turned on his laptop, the machine soon humming to life with predatory efficiency. Within seconds, he'd navigated to his private investigative resources—connections cultivated through years of high-stakes business dealings where knowing your opponent's weaknesses meant survival.

"Sander Mintz, what are you hiding?" he muttered, his fingers flying across the keyboard.

The initial results painted the picture of a man trying too hard. Social media profiles showcased expensive vacations, designer suits, and carefully orchestrated networking events. Every photograph screamed desperation wrapped in designer clothing—Sander posing with influential shifters, Sander at charity galas, Sander making speeches about pride unity while his eyes held the cold calculation of someone keeping score.

Keiro scrolled deeper, his wolf's instincts prickling with unease. Something about the timeline bothered him. Too many gaps, too many convenient absences during key moments.

Then he found it. A photograph buried in a society page from three years ago stopped him cold. The image quality was poor, clearly taken from a distance at some outdoor gathering. But there was no mistaking the figures: Sander Mintz standing beside two men whose faces Keiro would never forget. The rogue lions they'd killed at Poppy's estate.

Ice flooded his veins as the implications crashed through him. The attack hadn't been random. Those rogues hadn't stumbled onto Poppy's territory by accident during their dinner. They'd been sent. Directed. Commanded. By Sander.

Keiro's hands clenched into fists as his wolf snarled for blood. That bastard had orchestrated an assassination attempt on his mate. Had Sander hoped to eliminate Poppy that night? Or had it been intended as a warning, a demonstration of how easily he could reach her?

His investigation took on desperate urgency. He dove deeper into Sander's history, following digital breadcrumbs through shell companies, financial records, and association networks. What emerged made his blood boil.

Eleven years ago, around the time of Rowan Mintz's murder, Sander had received a substantial influx of cash through a series of untraceable offshore accounts. The timing was too convenient, the amounts too significant for coincidence. Keiro found connections to mercenary groups, payments to individuals with questionable backgrounds, a web of financial transactions that painted a picture of someone with resources to eliminate obstacles and create chaos.

Had Sander been involved in his own uncle's assassination? Had he orchestrated Rowan's death, expecting to claim theAlpha position, only to watch in fury as twenty-one-year-old Poppy stepped forward instead?

The evidence wasn't concrete enough for a courtroom, but it was damning enough for Keiro's wolf. This wasn't just about pride politics or cousin rivalry. This was about a man who'd potentially committed murder to seize power, then spent eleven years watching Poppy in the position he'd killed to claim. But what was his endgame? Why wait to kill Poppy? Unless he knew killing Rowan and Poppy would be too obvious, too suspicious. Destroying her slowly was probably Sander's plan, and it had been working until Keiro came along

Keiro grabbed his phone, speed-dialing Dax's number. His Beta answered on the first ring, as if he'd been expecting the call.

"Let me guess," Dax's dry voice came through the speaker. "Your romance with Poppy got interrupted by something that requires my particular skill set."

"Yes, unfortunately. I need you to run a full background check on Sander Mintz," Keiro commanded. "Everything you can find. Financial records, travel history, known associates. And Dax—I need you to look into Rowan Mintz's murder as well."

Silence stretched across the line before Dax's voice returned, notably more serious. "What's going on?"

"I don't know yet. There's just some connections I don't like. Timing that's too convenient. And evidence that the rogue attack on Poppy wasn't random."

"Oh, shit." Dax's military training bled into his tone. "How deep do you want me to dig?"

"Deep enough to find the truth. Whatever it takes."

"Don't you think you should talk to Poppy first before we do this? She might prefer to handle this herself, or maybe she won't appreciate you overstepping again."

Keiro's jaw tightened, every instinct screaming at him to protect his mate. "It's fine. I'm doing this because I love her, Dax. Because she never got justice for her father's murder, and because I want to help her find peace."

"By investigating behind her back?" Dax's voice carried exasperation.

"Just get to work on this," Keiro snapped, then immediately regretted his tone.

Dax was right, but Keiro couldn't bear the thought of Poppy carrying this burden alone any longer.

"Alright," Dax sighed. "But you better tell her what you're doing before she finds out the hard way. Trust me on this one."

The line went dead, leaving Keiro alone with his churning thoughts and the damning evidence glowing on his laptop screen. He couldn't concentrate on anything except the twisted game Sander might have been playing for eleven years. The man who'd smiled at pride gatherings while potentially orchestrating his uncle's death. Who'd watched Poppy struggle with financial crises he might have engineered. Who'd sent killers to her home last week.