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“What?”

“I…have an idea. A really horrible fucking idea.”

Desperate times called for desperate measures, and I was willing to push boundaries to get Cole back home. And this was as desperate as it got.

A month or two ago, Cole told me about visiting some strange country club for shifters who thought like Curt. It seemed like the best way to find him. I hitched up my strapless bra again as I walked with Lana up the long driveway.

“These heels are fucking terrible,” I complained.

“Yep,” Lana agreed. “So is this idea.”

“Yeah, but what else have we got?”

The clubhouse looked more like a bumping nightclub than an elite meeting spot for wealthy lycan supremacists. The distant thumping of music grew louder with each step until we made it to the door.

A huge statue of a man scowled down at us. “Why’d you bring the snack?” he asked Lana, referring to me.

“Because my alpha is inside waiting to devour her, obviously,” Lana said with a wicked curl of a smile. “I don’t recommend pissing him off, by the way. He’s twiggy, but he’s brutal.”

“Oh, you’re one of his,” the bouncer said with an eye roll. “All right, go on in.”

He stepped aside, and we hurried in before he changed his mind.

Inside was a wild party, and the energy in the air was palpable. There was a whirlwind of lights, colors, and dancing bodies. It smelled like sweat and booze. I scanned the room, searching for Curt. It didn’t take long to overhear a conversation near the bar.

Two shifters were speaking loudly over the music, arrogance dripping from every word. “Did you get a good lay from that snack cake last night?” one of them jeered, a wicked grin on his face.

The other shifter chuckled, raising his glass in a mocking toast. “Obviously. Non-shifters are so eager to please, it’s almost too easy. I gotta tell you, I’m glad Alpha started lightening up on the rules. I’ve been drowning in pussy ever since Curt said it was cool to fuck a non-shifter.”

Disgust churned in my stomach, but I couldn’t let it distract me. I had the confirmation I needed now: Curt was here. Now I just had to find him.

My focus narrowed, and I started to weave through the crowd, seeking out the man we needed. Somewhere along the line, I discovered that Lana wasn’t with me anymore. Scanning the crowd frantically, I was just about to start calling for her when a cool gust of breath brushed against the shell of my ear.

“What is a claimed mate doing in a party full of rutting males looking for conquest?” the familiar voice asked. “Is Cole’s performance so unsatisfactory that you need to find a new plaything?”

I spun around to face him, equal parts relieved and concerned. Curt smiled as he stood to his full height and slid his hands into his hoodie pockets.

“So, you’re here dressed like a common skank,” he said. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Can we go somewhere quieter?” I asked.

He gave me his dark-eyed stare for a long moment before sighing and shrugging half-heartedly. “Come on.”

I followed him outside, and he led me to a hedge maze. I hesitated at its entrance, staring at him with a skeptical look.

He looked back at me, hooded eyes giving me an unbothered, questioning look. “You wanted quieter. This is quieter.”

“It’s also hidden,” I said.

“I don’t bite,” he said with a smirk.

I glowered at him.

“Too soon?” he asked.

Curt looked at me from head to toe, then back up again. I felt a little too naked in the strapless dress I’d borrowed from Lana, especially as his eyes followed the jagged edges of the bite scar on my shoulder. I lifted my hand to obscure it from his view, not dropping my eyes from his face.

I was determined not to let him bully me. If this was going to work, I needed to keep a firm handle on the negotiations. If I let him throw me off with his flirtations or comments, I would definitely end up on my back foot.

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