Page 85 of Sawyer

“They had a handler,” he says carefully.

“I knew it,” I whisper. There were tales of men guiding wolves and training them to hunt, but no one ever knew what they hunted. “I fucking knew it,” I repeat a little louder.

“Wait.” Sin’s brows dip low. “How are you here right now? Aren’t they vicious?”

Bryn and Rumor share another glance before Rumor answers, “I think they were warning us.” He shakes his head. “I don’t know how to explain it. It was like, at that moment, we were a pack.”

There are many dynamics that we share with wolves. Long ago, they speculated we evolved from wolves, but that’s absurd.

“I think they wanted us to observe,” Bryn continues. “The handler whistled to them, and they left. However, they were out there searching or patrolling.”

“For what?” I ask.

Sin is the one who answers. “Not what, who.”

“Sawyer, I think—” Bryn starts.

I cut him off. “I’m not staying behind.” I already packed my travel camera, and I’m going to blow the lid off this entire situation. “Don’t even try it.”

“All right,” Bryn concedes. “We have to take a few precautions first.”

“Scent tonics.” I suspected he might go this way, so when he nods his head at my guess, I don’t feel validated. “When do we leave?”

“You want to get out of your little nest so soon?” Sin pouts.

“It’s not a nest.” I roll my eyes at him and fling my blankets off of. I already miss their warmth, and Sin gives me a knowing glance.

“You say potato, I say toes,” he mutters.

“That isn’t how that goes.” A nervous tingle flares inside me as I grab my boots to pull them on. Even when all this is over, I will miss them. We work well together—too well.

“Sawyer.” Rumor pulls me over to the table which holds a case. Flipping it open, he reveals two guns. “Can you shoot?”

“On a cloudy, rainy day with a—”

“You know what I mean.” He gives me a smile I crave. It’s so subtle and sexy that it changes everything about him.

That isn’t what steals my attention though. It took me a little bit to catch, and I feel guilty, but I press a palm to his face. “You shaved.”

Instead of pulling away, he nuzzles my hand, and the prickle of his hair growing in itches my palm. “I did.”

“You have a baby face.”

“I’m no baby, baby girl.” He kisses my palm before pointedly looking at the gun case. “A twenty-two and a stunner.”

He pulls both out and sets them on the table. “I’ll take the stun gun.” I’ve seen enough death that I don’t want to put a homicide on my conscience.

“Sawyer,” he warns, “just shoot to kill.”

“You plan on being out of my sight?”

“Never.”

I only take the stun gun. “Then make sure I don’t have to use that.” I leave him and grab my coat. “I don’t want that on me,” I whisper to him.

“I’ll do my best, but, baby girl, I hope that if it comes down to it, you will protect your life as I would protect you.” He’s so stern that I can only pause and turn back to him.

“Rumor, I can’t mean that much to you.”

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