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Another hard swallow of air. “He’ll worry.”

“So? Let him.”

“I can’t. If he thinks I’ve disappeared, he could—” she clamps her mouth shut, eyes wide once more.

The girl is in trouble. Kill him.

In good time, dear boy. No need to spook our lady when we’ve just met.

“Go back to him, if you must. But know this.” I step closer again, reach out and run my fingertips over the small bit of exposed skin on her chest that she hasn’t covered with my jacket. Her breath catches. “We’re meant to be. All of us. And we won’t let you go so easily.”

With one more dry swallow, she sweeps my jacket off, hands it to me, and replaces her mask before rushing back into the ballroom, leaving me alone with more steel in my trousers than the gun tucked at my back.

She’s ours.

Chapter Nine

Sin

Holyshitholyshitholyshitholyshit…

What the fuck was that?

I wedge myself in the corner of the ballroom by the entrance doors and try to catch my breath that I should not be out off. I haven’t exerted myself at all. I’ve only had a conversation.

A weird conversation.

With one of my scent-matched Alphas.

He smelled of mouthwatering orange zest, but for one moment, when his demeanor and even his voice changed, that zest turned to a warm chocolate. Like the fresh-baked brownies from the bakery a few blocks from the club that Matty and I devour if we ever get to go on supply runs to the bodega together.

Earlier, I didn’t want to believe that guy, Ilya, was bound to me. Not even when his clean scent screamed for me. Wouldn’t acknowledge it when I was face-to-face with him.

I couldn’t.

But now this? The British guy, Garen, is also my scent match. My Alpha. And he knows Ilya. I mean, of course he does. I knew that from the news broadcasts about the party where their faces were plastered all over. And also, that American guy who was interviewed yesterday outside the hotel.

Holy. Shit.

What if he’s their pack brother? What if he’s my…?

Nope. No way, Sin. Just stop right there. Not only would that be, like, the most improbable thing to happen in anyone’s lifetime, but you have no business having or even wanting a pack. Your life, theirs, and Matty’s, are all in your hands.

I won’t endanger anyone.

“Who’s in danger, little one?”

Shrieking, I nearly jump straight out of my skin, then whip my head to the side where I find Ilya looking down at me with a level gaze. His mask is gone, and his handsome face is so close to me, I can almost feel that delectable stubble on my cheek if I concentrate hard enough.

“I’ll ask again. Who is in danger?”

Shit. I said that out loud before?

My laugh is nervous as I look out at the ballroom before me, the dance floor filled up again, the music thumping now through the built-in speakers and the enormous ones by the DJ booth at the back of the room. “Nobody. Really.”

I can hear his hum over the music, and it’s nearly a purr, deep in his chest and soothing to my ears. And other places.

“Where’s your fiance?”