Page 17 of Moonlight & Mayhem

Her throat worked. “You’re not dying.”

“You sure?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said.

“Doctor sure or stubborn woman sure?” he teased.

“Both,” she said.

Mayhem smiled. “That’s my girl.” Moon pulled her hand away, and he immediately regretted saying it. “Shit.”

“I’m not your girl,” she insisted.

“Yet,” he countered.

“Mayhem,” she warned.

“Sorry.” He wasn’t, not really, but he could see she needed room. He would give it to her—for now.

The clinic door opened and Howler walked in. His Prez looked like he had been dragged through hell and decided to stay there out of spite. Blood stained his shirt, and there was a fresh cut near his temple. Mayhem straightened. “What happened?”

“Howler,” Moon warned, “he needs to stay calm.”

Mayhem looked at her. “Really?”

“Yes,” she said, defiantly raising her chin at him.

“I am calm,” he said.

“You’re already growling.” He hadn’t noticed.

Howler closed the door. “We identified one of the attackers.”

Mayhem’s mood darkened. “Capitol Wolves, right?”

“Former Capitol Wolves,” Howler corrected.

Moon frowned. “What do you mean by former?”

Howler nodded. “His patch was stripped.”

Mayhem felt his wolf stir. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“It gets worse,” his Prez said.

“Of course it does,” Mayhem growled.

Howler glanced at Moon and then back to Mayhem. “They aren’t working as one club anymore.”

“What?” Mayhem almost shouted.

“The Capitol Wolves fractured after the war.” Mayhem let that sink in. They all knew there were survivors after the final battle, wolves who disappeared before Dark Chaos and Silverfang could finish cleaning house, but fractured clubs were unpredictable. They were desperate and dangerous.

“What are they calling themselves?” Mayhem asked.

Howler’s expression went flat. “The Hollow Pack.”

Moon inhaled sharply, and Mayhem noticed. “You know that name?” She shook her head too quickly, and Howler seemed to notice too. “Moon.”