Page 33 of Carver’s Crusade

“Some,” Lily answers quietly. “Trading, too.”

Dante exhales slowly, dragging a hand over his chin as he looks around their camp. His eyes linger on the thin blankets and the empty food containers.

Then he looks back at Marcus.

“You did what you had to,” Dante says. “I get that.”

Marcus’s shoulders stiffen, like he doesn’t trust what he’s hearing.

Dante takes another step closer, closing the distance just enough. “But stealing from us?” He pauses, letting the weight of it hang. “That shit stops now. Got it?”

The clearing goes quiet again, the trees pressing in around us.

I shift my stance, watching Marcus as he squares up all over again, ready to fight for them if he has to.

Yeah.

The kid’s been carrying the weight of three others for too long. And something tells me Dante’s about to change that.

CHAPTER 16: RAVEN

I stare into my closet like it’s going to solve my problem magically.

It doesn’t.

Rows of clothes hang there—work blouses, slacks, a few dresses I never wear, and the safe, forgettable outfits that let me blend into the background. None of them feels right for tonight. The Demon Dawgs clubhouse isn’t hosting a cocktail party… but it’s also not somewhere I can show up looking like I just clocked out of the office.

My fingers trail over hangers as my pulse ticks a little too fast.

Why am I this nervous?

It’s just a party.

Except it’s not. It’s their world. Carver’s world.

I bite my lip and push past the sensible options, reaching for my favorite pair of jeans. The ones that hug my hips just right and make my butt look—okay, objectively—amazing. Confidence in denim. I step into them and glance at myself in the mirror, already feeling a tiny bit steadier.

“Okay,” I murmur. “Better.”

Next, I dig out a soft green tank top, the color bringing out my eyes in a way even I can’t ignore. It’s simple, but it fits me well—feminine without trying too hard. I pull on a lightweight, waist-length cotton jacket to finish it off, giving myself one last once-over.

Not bad. Hot, but not like I’m trying too hard. Sexy without being slutty. Yeah. This will work.

My gaze shifts to the small collection of self-defense items on my dresser.

The taser. The knife. The pepper spray.

For a second, I hesitate.

But this is the clubhouse. Carver will be there. The others, too. It’s probably the safest place I could be.

Still…

I grab the pepper spray and slip it into my pocket.

Just in case.

My reflection stares back at me—nervous, yes—but also determined.