Page 156 of Conner's Luna

"Also statistically improbable," she points out.

Fuck, I love this female. No one else I know can talk about statistic probabilities with as much relish as I do. "Statistically, we aren't as smart, on average," I admit.

She taps her chin. "My theory would be that having a wolf can stabilize your mind, but if you tip the scales and become mentally ill, then there must be a point that having a wolf actually exacerbates the problem."

"Good in theory, but why would having a wolf make it worse?" I ask her.

"That's why," she says suddenly. The stench of her fear assaults my nose, and I follow her gaze to the side of the road.

I throw the truck in park as Dad stops his SUV in front of mine, then backs up to hem us in as Sean pulls his truck up to my rear bumper. In an instant, we've formed a barricade of vehicles between Bailey and Trey.

"Stay in the damn truck, Bails," I order as I step out.

Dad flanks me on my left, Sean to my right.

"Trey," I greet the wild-eyed male calmly. I try to keep still, to stay as non-threatening as possible. I can tell that Dad and Sean are, too, but Sean is edgy, uncomfortable with the sight in front of us.

When the baby in Trey's blood-soaked arms starts to wail, Sean takes a step back and Uncle Lyall eases into his place.

"I named him, Mikko," Trey rasps.

"Congratulations, Alphason," Lyall says quietly.

Trey laughs, "Alphason? I named him after my great-uncle. He was the actual alpha, not my grandfather. I always wondered if Grandad didn't kill his brother. It seems like the sort of shit he'd pull."

"Is that Nikki's baby?" Bailey's soft voice chimes in as the scent of honey wafts over us.

Trey's dark blue eyes shoot to her, his pupils are blown wide in shock. I can tell his wolf has completely tipped over the edge. The tiny newborn in Trey's arms is his first concern, but Bailey is still a very close second. I can sense her hesitancy, but like any good female, any good person, her worry for the baby eclipses all else.

"Yes," Trey answers Bailey's question. "I found him. I... he's really cold and I can't shift because I had to carry him. He doesn't have a blanket." Trey looks around him blankly, as if a blanket will miraculously appear.

"Where did you find your son?" Lyall asks.

Trey doesn't respond. He gathers his pup closer to his chest, rumbling soothingly. "He's hungry," he remarks, sounding desperate. Mikko starts to root weakly at his father's chest, his cries of frustration growing when his efforts aren't rewarded.

I hear Sean slip away to place a call, asking whoever is on the other line to bring formula. Sarj approaches cautiously and hands Lyall a foil emergency blanket. I have no idea how I'm going to give it to Trey without causing a fatality.

"Where did you find baby Mikko, Trey?" Bailey asks from behind me. There is a quality to her voice that I don't like. It's sweet and soothing. It'smyhoney and I'm a selfish fuck, but even the damn pup responds, falling silent as Bailey speaks. Or maybe he's just getting weaker and colder.

Trey swallows. Sorrow clings to him, a stench that I know from experience won't wash away easily. "She killed Nikki because... she needed a pup."

"Lydia lost her baby?" Bailey asked. I feel her press against my back, peeking out. My muscles swell, my wolf growing about a foot taller. We aren't posturing violence, only protection. We don't have to threaten Trey right now. He's fucking broken.

"There was no baby," he replies. For the first time, another emotion other than shock and sorrow flashes across his face. He's enraged. "She used Nikki's scent and some cocktail from that fucking lab to fool me. Fooled everyone. When I tried to Mark her... I knew. But Nikki... Nikki was pregnant with my pup. So she took him."

"She killed Nikki to present Mikko as her own?" Bailey asks, sounding a little confused. "How was she going to explain the age difference?"

Trey laughs, his dark blue eyes fixated on my girl. "She didn't think that far ahead, sweetheart. She never did. She's crazy."

"Trey," I infuse my voice with Command. I want his eyes off of my girl. I'll rip his tongue right from his mouth for calling her 'sweetheart.' Reluctantly, his eyes find mine and hold, bitterness and hatred filling the space between us. "Whose blood is on you?" It isn't Lydia's. At least I don't think it is.

He grimaces and I see blood coating his teeth. "That doctor. Honekier. He's the one who did the inseminations."

"Fuck," I mutter as my dad inhales sharply next to me. If Trey killed Honekier, then he may have just screwed up our investigation of all the murders. And, just our luck, we may not even be able to get a clear answer from Trey, because he's a fucking lunatic with a baby in his arms.

Something is pressed into my palm. A bottle. "Trey. I have a blanket and a bottle. I'm going to leave them in between us, alright? For Mikko," I tell him.

Trey snaps out of his rage. It drains out of him, leaving him looking shattered again. "Thank you," he says stiffly.

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