Scottie is lying sideways on a velvet chaise lounge. She’s got her feet tucked up beside her and her head resting on her arm. Long blonde hair cascades down in front of her and my animal side stretches languidly inside me.
She’s something special.
And for now, and hopefully forever, she chooses to share her bed with me.
Zane has taken the leather armchair across from her, his posture rigid despite being in his own home. They are involved in a quiet conversation about their fathers, their voices barely above whispers.
I lean against a marble column, giving them space. Living within a pack taught me the beauty of sharing—it’s in my nature.Wolves, bears, elephants, caribou, and a dozen other species prove that love and family can thrive with more than two.
Zane loving Scottie doesn’t take away from how I feel about her, nor how she feels about me. I’m not threatened while watching them rebuild their connection. Their history runs deep, written in every shared glance and unfinished sentence.
And as long as Zane doesn’t get possessive of her, we’ll be fine. If he does…well, then wewon’tbe fine.
My animal instincts stir restlessly as I watch Scottie. I’m not sure what I’m picking up on, but something is off with Scottie. Her scent has changed subtly over the past couple of days. She isn’t pregnant—it’s definitely not that—but there’s an edge to her natural essence I can’t place.
When she shifts in her seat, her movements seem slightly too careful, too measured. Is she aware of something and not mentioning it?
I watch her closely, working to pin down what’s triggering my instincts. The bear in me grows more agitated with each passing moment, but I can’t figure out why. Something about her is just off.
“Tucker?” Scottie turns those blue eyes my way. “When did you get here?”
“Just a moment ago. I didn’t want to interrupt.”
She sits up and pats the seat cushion next to her. “You’re not interrupting. We were just talking about getting something to eat. Are you hungry?”
“I can always eat.”
She grins. “Yeah, you can. It takes a lot of calories to fuel that body of yours. Come on. The new chef, Warin, is working to win Zane over. He sent over a bunch of entrees for us to try.”
I meet Zane’s gaze, waiting to see if he is as welcoming as my girl.
The king’s emerald gaze meets mine with an understanding of the situation. He had his chance. He’s playing by Scottie’s rules now.
“Of course. There’s plenty.”
“Then lead the way.” I wrap my arm around Scottie as we strike off. With my hand at the small of her back, I push down my worries for the moment.
It might be nothing.
But my gut says differently.
Huntley
I escort the last of the clan members living outside of the compound through the exit and set the security protocols. Zane says he doesn’t want our home to become a prison, but for now, it’s safer that way.
When the appropriate clicks and beeps signify the compound is safe, I pull out my phone and call up Zane’s contact info. Yes, I could walk to the residence and ask him in person, but then I’ll have to watch him with Scottie, or worse, have a run-in with Scottie myself.
No. It’s better this way. I tap his contact with my thumb, debating how to phrase my question without sounding like an overprotective mother hen. When he picks up, I get to the point. “Are you in for the night?”
“Unless the sky starts falling. I’m planning to eat and then bury myself in paperwork. Vasari Industries won’t run itself—at least, that’s what Ginny keeps telling me.”
Ginny should know. As Francesco’s executive assistant, she’s kept things running behind the scenes for decades.
“Arturo made a fuck-ton of food. Are you coming to eat?”
“Later. If you’re good, I have some intel I want to chase down.” It’s not a complete lie. I do have information I want to follow up on, but mostly I can’t stand the thought of pretending to be domestic with him, Scottie, and Tucker. “The compound is locked down.”
“We’ll be fine. I’ve got guards, Scottie, and though I loathe to admit it, Tucker is a fucking beast in a fight.”