Page 24 of Savage Claim

“It must not be that unapproachable if you still came over.” I sipped the drink, the fizzy soda gliding over my tongue and masking some of the liquor’s harsh taste.

Roman shrugged, the crescent moon dangling from his ear shining under the draping fairy lights. “I’m braver than most.” He searched the area near me and frowned. “Where’s your brooding shadow?”

I shrugged as if the lack of his presence didn’t affect me. “Somewhere not bothering me.”

Fane had been avoiding me since we hooked up at Lunar Souls a few nights ago. He’d barely spoken two words to me.

Prick.

To make matters worse, the Infernal Sol had begun to stir, restless and longing to yank the wheel of control from my hands. I couldn’t allow that, especially trapped in the compound. If I started acting nuts or chowing down on fears, causing chaos, Barric would definitely realize something strange was going on with me.

What would he do if he found out about the demon amulet? Shifters rarely had any interest in magic or dark, nefarious demon talismans. Of course, Barric might consider his pack in danger, and locking me up would be best for everyone.

A shudder rippled down my back at the thought of being imprisoned in a room within the compound. Fane wouldn’t let the head alpha do that.

Right?

“You need to keep your guard up, Tate, especially right now.” He twirled his finger at the many shifters enjoying the festivities. “There are a lot of male shifters visiting, and even the male pack members at Silver Ridge notice when Fane’s not around.”

My eyebrows slammed together, and I had to choke back the urge to toss my drink in his face. “I can take care of myself, Roman. Why the hell does everyone think I’ll turn into some weakling if a male shifter tries to get a little handsy?”

As memories of my time in foster care bubbled up, I swallowed back the bile oozing up my throat. I was a helpless kid then, and I couldn’t protect myself. Things were different now. I was stronger, and I’d never let something like that ever happen to me again.

“I know you’re capable of handling yourself,” Roman said, his head tilting as he studied me, his cheekbones looking even sharper under the lights. “But I’ve seen males allow their primal instinct to control them, and it’s not pretty.”

So had I. They were just human.

“I’m hungry.” I pushed off the wall and slipped by him. “Thank for the advice, Roman.”

I wasn’t actually hungry, but I’d wanted an excuse to end our conversation. Once I reached the food table, I grabbed a plate and started making a pulled pork sandwich.

“I made the pork.” Charla, the blonde shifter who helped me in the archives gave a beaming smile as she pointed to my plate. She was tall and thin with high, delicate cheekbones and rosebud lips, looking more fae than wolf.

“Oh, cool.” Did my voice sound as flat and uninterested to her as it did to me?

“It’s spicy.” She laughed and pushed her glasses back up her nose. “Not as spicy as your little toxic seasoning stuff, though.”

Nothing was that spicy.

She jerked her head to the right, her blond hair shifting around her shoulders. “Let’s sit at a table together.”

Before I could protest, she skipped toward the only empty one around, shooting a beaming smile over her shoulder. Ugh. Why did she have to be so nice? I could just ignore her, couldn’t I?

Someone’s stare burned into the side of my face, and I turned as Barric caught my attention a few feet away, his alpha power pulsating around him. He arched his scarred eyebrow, tilted his head toward Charla, and mouthed, “Be nice.”

Whatever.

I stomped to the table and plopped down, shoving the sandwich in my mouth. I’d eat quickly and sneak back inside. They’d have to tie me down to make me stay any longer.

“Did you find what you were looking for in the archives?” Charla asked before sipping her drink.

“Oh, um, sort of.” I didn’t uncover shit about my parents, but that damn symbol certainly had my interest piqued.

Charla wiped her hands on a napkin. “Anything I can help with?”

Even though Charla was a bitten shifter, she’d have to know more than me. She’d been in Silver Ridge for a few years now, according to the records in the archives. “Do you know anything about…” I leaned closer to whisper, “The Collective Hunt?”

The instant the word hit the air between us, her mouth curved into a sneer. “I’m surprised there’s anything in the archives about it, but I guess those assholes are part of our history.”

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