Page 101 of The Werewolf’s Wrong Mate

“Yes.”

The answers built a staircase none of them wanted to climb.

I looked at the iron bars.

“At least Henry didn’t get lured. He got lucky.”

“Unlucky,” Ian said.

I looked back at him. He was looking at my bandaged shoulder.

“For everyone,” I said.

His eyes lifted to mine and his expression changed again.

“No,” he said. “Not for everyone.”

The mark pulsed once, slow and warm beneath the bandage. That was dangerous enough that I immediately turned back toward Ronan.

“Track the missing guard,” I said. “That’s where this goes, right?”

Ronan’s gaze sharpened. “You are giving orders now?”

“No. I’m organizing the obvious because everyone here has too much testosterone and too many old rules to move in a straight line.”

Lucien looked down at the tablet.

Sava muttered, “She is not entirely wrong.”

Ronan ignored her. “Ian tracks Brenner’s trail from the gate.”

“No,” Ian said.

Ronan didn’t look surprised.

I did.

“Why no?” I asked.

Ian’s eyes stayed on Ronan. “If I leave her here, the mark worsens. If I take her with me, she is exposed. If I follow Brenner and the trail goes to the west side while her father and the groom is already pushing boundaries, I divide focus.”

“Your focus is already divided,” Ronan said.

Ian’s face turned hard.

I felt that one too.

Ronan looked toward the hedge, then back at his brother. “You will track five minutes beyond the gate. Lucien and Sava stay with Cassie. I stay here. If anything happens, you return.”

“And if the trail continues?”

“Then you decide.”

Ian’s silence was pure refusal.

Ronan stepped closer. The Alpha entered his body, not loudly, not visibly enough for a human crowd to understand, but my skin knew. Every wolf nearby knew. The garden seemed to lower itself around him.

“Five minutes,” Ronan said. “You are still my enforcer.”