He slowly shook his head, then pointed at Sawyer. “And what areyoudoing here,Dreadhunter?”
“Protecting my pack,” he retorted with a growl.
“From me?” The man’s brows jumped. “You don’t even know me.”
“I don’t have to,” Sawyer uttered. “I know your brand of magic.”
“You know nothing.”
“I know—”
“Sawyer, enough.” Tegan’s voice rang with command. Sawyer’s shoulders went stiff as another low, rumbling growl slipped from his throat. “Sawyer. He’s not the enemy,” Tegan insisted.
“He shares her blood. That’s enough.”
“So does Ezra, but we didn’t chase him off,” Remy murmured, stricken. “Sawyer? What’s wrong? This isn’t like you.”
“I don’t trust him.”
“He just saved Arias and Dallon’s lives,” Rory pointed out. “He didn’t owe them anything. If he was the enemy, wouldn’t it make sense that he’d want them dead? Besides, we took a chance onyou,didn’t we?”
Sawyer set his jaw, but didn’t say another word. He didn’t look away from the witch, though, and it kind of gave me the heebie-jeebies. We’d trusted Sawyer from the beginning. Well, mostly. He’d never given us a reason not to, but right now, if looks could kill? The stranger in our kitchen would be vaporized.
“No offense, man, but maybe you should leave the room,” Gage said, planting a meaty paw on Sawyer’s shoulder. For several minutes, no one said anything. It was a staring contest between the ex-Dreadhunter and the witch, until finally, Sawyer looked away.
His throat worked, but he nodded. “Probably a good idea. I’m going to bed.” He brushed past me and thumped up the stairs.
Remy’s lips thinned in a grimace. “I’m sorry. He’s not normally like this,” he murmured before following his mate up to their bedroom. Nobody dared to relax until we heard the door clap shut behind them.
“I’m sorry,” the witch uttered, suddenly weary. “Forgive my manners. I haven’t even introduced myself yet.” He straightened up, squaring his shoulders. “My name is Harper Fleur. I’m searching for my sister, but I’m afraid it might be too late…”