Page 20 of Prisoner of the Lycan Prince

Arlo sat taller in his chair, a hint of challenge in his eyes. “In my experience, Your Highness, the fastest way to tempt someone into exploring a forbidden area is to tell them they can’t go near it. Miss Ward trained as an investigative journalist. I can only assume that warning her away from the maze will end with her sneaking outside to get a better look at it.”

Damn. He was probably right. I rubbed at my mouth. “We’ll have to find something else for her to do. Maybe put a television in her room.”

Arlo frowned. “Do you think that will be enough to occupy her?”

“Give her your streaming passwords, then. Women like movies, right? Dramas. Romance shows.”

Arlo’s frown turned into something that might have been bemusement. “I’m not sure that’s a universal rule.”

Irritation flared. I drummed my fingers on the arm of my chair. “Fine. Order some books for her.”

“I could…” he said slowly, appearing to consider it.

I stopped drumming. “But?”

“But you should be prepared for her to ask about her college coursework. Miss Ward doesn’t strike me as the type of person to let that go.”

“The university isn’t going anywhere. She can finish her studies when my business with her father is concluded. Speaking of which, have you heard from our scheming friend?”

“Orson sent an email in the early hours of the morning. I was on my way in here to tell you when I heard you searching for a flask. Orson insists he turned everything over.”

Yeah, right. I dug in the pocket of my sweatpants and withdrew the gauze I’d saved from treating Harper’s toe. As I dropped the handful of bloodied material on the desk, Arlo’s nostrils twitched.

“It’s hers,” I said. “Send it to Ward.”

Arlo swallowed. “Should I send a note?”

“Just tell him it’s from me. Let him wonder how I got it. I want him checking his mail, worried I’ll send worse.”

“Yes, sir.” Arlo’s horns grew more solid.

I let my gaze linger on them a moment before meeting Arlo’s stare. “My tactics might seem harsh, old friend, but they’re in our best interests. And Harper’s. Don’t you want her back at school, learning how to delve into people’s private lives without shame or remorse?”

Arlo didn’t rise to the bait. He simply took the gauze from the desk and stood. “I’ll send this as you instructed, Your Highness.”

I suppressed a sigh. “Thanks. And don’t forget about the books and TV.”

“Of course not, sir. Consider it done.”

“Have there been any rumblings from the Puget Sound Pack?” A change in leadership was always a volatile time within a werewolf pack. Depending on how many wolves threw their hat in the ring, dozens of pack members could die in the dominance contests that followed. Which was perfect.

“Nothing,” Arlo said. “It appears they’re licking their wounds.”

“We cut the head off the snake. If they pick a new alpha, we’ll repeat the process until the pack is too depleted to survive.” Like any social group, packs needed numbers and a hierarchy. The Puget Sound Pack was small, but it had been well-organized under Rex Addington. He’d been dominant enough to compel the respect and obedience of even the most vicious wolves. From what I knew of the pack, no other wolf was strong enough to keep the rest in line. The remaining wolves were likely to drift to other packs. Some of the stronger ones might attempt to live as lone wolves. If they did, I’d pick them off one by one.

“I’ll keep my ears open for any developments,” Arlo said.

“Thank you.”

He left, and I slid lower in my chair, my gaze on the fire. Maybe Arlo was right to disapprove of me sending the bloodstained gauze to Ward. But I couldn’t keep Harper in my house. If it hadn’t been clear to me before, it was now. She was a nuisance. A…distraction. The sooner she left, the better. In the meantime, I had to keep my distance.

No matter what happened, I was staying as far away from Harper Ward as possible.

Chapter

Eight

HARPER

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