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Yordan’s hard expression didn’t crack. Instead, he folded his arms over his chest, making his biceps bulge. “So, about your debt,” he began.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
“It’s not important now,” Kit said airily as he turned back to the sink and started cleaning out the electric shaver.
“Really?” Yordan challenged. “Let me see if I have the timing right. You’re climbing the ranks as a badass werewolf. Became alpha of your pack within a few months. Several successful missions later, the brass is grinning, and Gummy’s pack is cursing your name for getting the juiciest missions.”
Kit flashed a pleased grin. “You guys cursed me? How sweet.”
“Not actual curses, just the usual, ‘Fuck you, asshole’ shit.”
Kit nodded. He knew exactly what that meant. “We said the same things about you—”
“Then suddenly,” Yordan interrupted, staying with the hard tone. “The big bad happens in Wisconsin. Instead of helping out up north like every other combat werewolf, you suddenly turn coward and take a desk job.”
Kit stiffened, even though he’d heard the rumor before. “Is that what you think?” he challenged. “That I went into management because I was afraid?”
“I did. The timing was too coincidental, and you gave no other explanation.”
Now his blood was heating as he leaned back against the sink, consciously mimicking Yordan’s pose.
“We’ve already talked about this. I wasn’t being a coward.”
“It was this kitten thing, right? You left your pack in the lurch. They were already one down, and you made it two. In fact, you gave all the signs of someone who had lost his nerve since you refused to shift.”
Kit winced. “I didn’t lose my nerve,” he said, his voice tight with pain.
“But you made it look that way. You gave up leadership of your clan, too. Or future leadership, right? The new McNabb will be your sister.”
Now that was striking close to home. And fuck Yordan for being so well-informed and yet not understanding a damn thing. Tired of standing there naked while Yordan grilled him about things he knew nothing about, Kit pushed off the sink and shouldered his way through the door. All the rooms were stocked with sweats, and he was quick to grab a pair, yanking them on with barely suppressed fury.
“Kit—” Yordan’s voice was gentle, which made everything worse.
“My sister is the better leader. She’s been living there while I’ve been off fighting monsters here. She deserves it.”
“Maybe,” Yordan said. “Or maybe you lost a bet to Coffee. That’s why you change into a kitten, isn’t it? And not just any kitten, but a Scottish Fold kitten. That matches his sense of humor.”
Yeah, it did. And he was an idiot for not realizing that at the time. But with Wisconsin being the flash point to world-ending disaster, he’d had bigger things on his mind than why he was suddenly unable to go wolf.
Still, the whole situation had ripped out his heart. Losing his combat status, stepping away as the McNabb heir. As if everything he did, everything he was, was tied up in going wolf. Except that was bullshit! He was a hell of a lot more than a kitten or dog, as everyone who had a disability or career-ending injury knew.
Everyone, that is, except his entire family. Or the brass at Wulf, Inc.
“Kit…”
“Drop it, Yordan.”
“What was the bet?” Like a dog with a bone.
Kit turned to glare at Yordan. “You asking as my lover or as my understudy?”
Yordan’s brows rose, but he didn’t answer.
“Because if it’s as my understudy,” Kit continued, “your boss just told you to drop it.”
“I’ve got a problem with authority. All my evals say that.”
“No, they don’t.” He knew because he’d read them. “You have a problem with stupid authority.” Yordan had always walked a very fine line. He only defied orders when things had gone well beyond questionable into really dumb. But once he refused a direct order, he did not waver from his conviction. It was one of the things Kit adored about him.
