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From what she’d experienced, fat chance of that happening. “Yeah, right.” The far north packs, especially the Yukon pack favored their wolf side over their human side. Needing to shift at least three times a week, instead of just twice a month like most weres. “Slade is too wolf. From what I can tell, not open to human foibles.”

“Though he’s had little interaction with humans, Slade is a seasoned traveler. He acquired his great grandfather’s unusual wander lust, which is why he strayed from his pack to train abroad.”

“Glen rides motorcycles, why can’t I bring him?”

“Glen is tough, but still only a beta. I prefer sending an alpha.”

“A beta’s plenty powerful. At least he’s stronger than the average human.”

“Even though there’s no trace of werewolf scent, I have a gut feeling a werewolf or werewolves are behind the missing lycans.”

“I suspect humans.” Most likely an old-fashioned werewolf hunter driven by revenge.

“Once you run the DNA analysis of materials collected from his haunts, we’ll have a better idea if werewolves or humans are involved. So far, the cleanup crew came up empty—that is of werewolf involvement.”

“I’m on it.” Cricket wrinkled her nose. The mission sounded up her alley, but not her partner. Screw it. Slade and she wouldn’t work. He’d never behave as anything, but a suffocating domineering alpha. Probably bite her nose in front of a bar full of people. “What about Trevor?” Though she wasn’t a big fan of the alpha, better him than someone she couldn’t trust to act human, nor one she lusted for.

“If Lev had recovered, I would have sent him, but after Lev, Slade is a better fighter than Trevor.”

“I thought the idea was to go in undercover without claws and fangs.”

“Cricket, you are one of my best agents. If a werewolf or werewolf hunters are involved, I want you under Slade’s protection. I feel better knowing he’s obsessed with protecting you.”

Obsessed to the power of ten. “Didn’t you tell me, if the bear had killed me, he would have returned to a stage of deep morphopsychosis?”

Rylee laughed. “True enough.” Her laugh lines disappeared, and her eyebrows drew together. “If something happens to you, I want Slade to rip them to shreds.”

Rylee’s tender concern touched her. A side of Rylee others never saw. The alpha treated Cricket like her daughter. Maybe because she never had pups or that Cricket’s mother, Chloe died in an accident shortly after she survived the change. The alpha bitch didn't waste time and forced her father to throw Cricket out of the pack. Tara, her father’s real mate had not counted on the runt surviving the change. Rylee felt sorry for the abandoned new changeling and under her tutelage, Cricket flourished. If another pack had taken her in, she’d probably be no better than a slave, cleaning after the others, reminding her of her life prior to the change. “Maybe I should take some tranquilizers, just in case?”

“I should share with you what Dr. Warner discovered about Slade’s physiology.”

“Oh?”

“Last time he was

tranquilized, you gave him the highest dose possible. Apparently, each time Slade receives a tranquilizer his system fights it, and the drug is no longer effective. He sent Dr. Becker a sample of his blood for analysis.”

That could be a good thing or a very bad thing if she couldn’t calm him down. “Do Dr. Warner and King Conan agree with sending Prince Slade?”

“The king specifically wants him to solve the case. He feels the risk is worth it, if Slade solves the case. The victory will help heal his shattered heart and make him feel worthy enough to return to his territory.”

“And leave Team Greywolf?” Never see Slade? Her stomach clenched. Why be upset? He was a pain in the ass, and a distraction to her horny she-wolf.

“He can return to being a prince and still serve our team until he becomes king.” Rylee smiled. “I have a gut feeling he won’t. He enjoys adventure too much to resign himself to the mundane life of a king. He told me, he never wants to settle down.”

Rylee had privately discussed with Cricket how the rule by royal families was outdated and favored a more democratic governing board. An unspoken radical view held by a few American werewolves. Not something the royals wanted to hear, especially the British and European sovereigns. Cricket snorted. “Wait until he meets the ideal mate.”

“Actually, Jesper is working on that. Dominic is holding an all pack evening ball to raise money for Mia’s non-profit, Canines for Wounded Heroes. Word will get out Slade, the most available richest bachelor, will attend.”

Cricket remembered Mia scheduled the ball for the first day of spring. An ideal time to find the perfect chemistry with a mate. Every bitch would be in heat. She promised Mia she’d attend and had been excited about going to the gala event. Now? Not so much. Her haughty alpha half-sisters, Dacia and Oriana would be there, knowing there was a chance to mate a royal prince. How can I explain I don’t want to go? Especially, since Mia planned to perform a cello solo before the auction. “Why wait so long to find him a mate? The ball is not for months.”

“Only two months. Given his current progress, we feel it's sufficient time to get Slade grounded enough to find a mate.”

Who the hell are we? “Is that what Dr. Warner says?”

“It’s what our wolf shaman, Lunara predicted. In fact, she’ll meet with Slade today to heal his wounded spirit.”

Cricket wasn’t schooled in lycan mysticism, but magic often explained more about their kind than science ever did. She shrugged. “Explain to Slade he can’t bully me in front of humans.” Or fellow team members.

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