Chapter One

MATT

Matt turned his truck onto the long, rutted track that led to the house. The tires jolted over uneven ground, scents of sun-warmed pine and dry earth drifted through the open window, and something in him eased the way it always did when he entered pack territory. It was as close as he got to peace these days.

His headlights caught the reflection of amber eyes among the trees, and a compact, muscular wolf slipped out of sight. Christian was keeping watch. There was no immediate threat—no rival packs close by—but Matt insisted on the patrols. Territory was only safe so long as it was defended. He’d learned that the hard way. No one got to be complacent in his pack, even with empty land stretching out in every direction.

The house came into view, the porch light casting a yellow glow into the night. He pulled up, but instead of climbing out, he let his hands rest on the wheel and took a moment for himself. A final instant of quiet before he stepped inside and became alpha again, responsible for everything. And he knew too well what that meant, what happened when an alpha fucked up.

The front door flew open and Tristan bounded out, long limbs moving fast and loose. He was always in motion, but right now there was an extra jolt of energy to him, like he was barely holding something in.

He reached Matt as he was climbing out of the truck, and with him came a scent Matt didn’t recognize, drifting through the open front door.

“Matt! You’re not gonna believe—”

“Quiet.” The word came out low, edged with warning.

Tristan snapped his mouth shut, and Matt drew in another breath, filtering through the information that gave him. The scent was wrong. It wasn’t pack.

His hackles rose, and he cut a hand toward the ground—stay. Tristan was amped enough to complicate whatever situation Matt was about to walk into.

He stepped inside, muscles coiled, his wolf close to the surface and snarling. The mouth-watering aroma of steak and onions drifted from the kitchen, but it barely registered. He followed the other scent instead, tracking it through the hallway. Shifter. Intruder. Wrong.

The spare bedroom door was ajar, and Matt shoved it open. A stranger lay in the bed, his face pale, eyes closed. Beside him, Bryce sprawled in a chair, socked feet up on the bed, utterly relaxed, as if there were nothing wrong with bringing a strange shifter into Matt’s territory.

The air felt too still, wrongness pressing in around him. He stepped into the room, floorboards creaking under his weight. Bryce jerked upright, tension pulling his muscles tight as he stood.

“Explain.” Matt’s voice was edged with something deeper than anger.

Bryce’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. Then, with a deliberate motion, he tilted his head back, baring his throat, allowing his body to slacken again. He knew he’d screwed up.

“Christian and Dave found him wandering the woods in wolf form.” Bryce’s voice was uncharacteristically clipped in the face of Matt’s wrath. “They went to chase him off, but then Dave noticed he was hurt, and you know Dave—peace, love, and harmony.”

Matt grunted in agreement, because that was understating Dave just a bit.

“Dave went in for a closer look in case he needed help, but the second he got close, that went out the window. He took a swipe at Dave and left a hell of a cut.” Bryce’s eyes flicked from the stranger back to Matt, gauging his reaction. “Christian tackled him, and the next thing they knew, he was out cold. I’ve no idea why he shifted before he passed out, but they came to get me. I brought him here, figuring you’d want to know who he is and what he’s doing here.” He glanced back at the guy in the bed. “Only thing is, he hasn’t woken up since.”

Matt breathed out slowly, his shoulders relaxing. Bryce had always had his back, starting with the day they were six years old and facing down a wannabe alpha in the schoolyard. He shouldn’t have doubted Bryce had good reasons for bringing the stranger in, but trust still didn’t come easy to him.

Matt stepped closer. The man’s hair was a tangled fall of dark blond, brushing his shoulders. He was early twenties, maybe—it was hard to tell under all that stubble.

“What’s wrong with him?”

Bryce shrugged. “He’s got a nasty wolf bite on his left flank, a few days old, but it’s healing cleanly. Other than that, and being thin as a rail, nothing obvious. Maybe Christian hit him harder than he’s telling—you know what he’s like.”

Matt didn’t need to ask if Bryce had checked him over thoroughly. They both had emergency medical training, and if Bryce said the guy wasn’t in immediate danger, he wasn’t.

“I thought about calling a medic,” Bryce continued, “but it didn’t seem that bad. And I didn’t want to involve non-shifters if we didn’t have to.”

Matt shared that concern. If the wrong person got their hands on an injured shifter… No one understood how they healed as fast as they did, or why their senses were enhanced even in human form, let alone the whole shifting into a wolf thing.

He raked his hand through his hair. This outsider’s presence in the midst of his pack felt wrong in too many ways, but one thing was certain—he’d been on their territory, and Matt needed to know why.

“Is he from the Denver pack?”

“Definitely not.” Bryce shook his head, amused. “With an ass like his? Believe me, I’d have noticed him, even if he is scrawny.”

Matt rolled his eyes. “I swear to God, Bryce, one day that dick of yours is going to get this pack in real trouble.”

Bryce didn’t look remotely concerned, which only annoyed Matt more. A new thought struck him, sharp and unwelcome. “If you dragged him in here just because you want to fuck him, so help me—”

“I might have something to say to that, y’know.” The voice was raspy and soft, but it sounded pretty damn mad, too. The stranger sat up in bed, his bright blue eyes darting between Matt and Bryce. “Where the hell am I? Who the hell are you?”

His gaze flicked down, then back up again, panic creeping in. “And where the fuck are my clothes?” His voice cracked—rage laced with something rawer, thinner. Fear, maybe?

“Steady there,” Bryce said soothingly, hands spread out before him, his voice low and calm. “We found you in the woods, where you’d passed out because of that hole in your side, and brought you in.”

“That damn hole in my side ain’t nothing.” He thrust his chin forward pugnaciously. “It was that damn red wolf jumping on top of me that did it. Where the hell is he? And where’s my damn boots?”

Matt bit back a huff of amusement at the shock on Bryce’s face. He looked like he’d picked up a kitten only to find himself holding a spitting, clawing wildcat. Matt was willing to bet this was one pair of pants Bryce wouldn’t be getting into anytime soon.

His humor faded as he remembered the situation—a stranger, not from their neighboring pack, with a bite wound. He didn’t need anyone bringing trouble to their door. His pack did that enough all by themselves.

“What’s your name?” he asked abruptly, swinging around the chair Bryce had been sitting on and straddling it, his wrists resting loosely on its back.

“None of your damn business.” There was a mutinous spark in the blue eyes that glared at him, and the mulish jaw was set even more firmly.

“You don’t speak that way to an alpha.” Bryce’s voice sounded gentle, but Matt could hear the warning in it.

The guy didn’t even blink at the warning. Just curled his lip like he’d had too many people try to make him bow down before. “He ain’t my alpha.”

As Matt rose slowly to his feet, six foot two of coiled power and authority, the guy seemed to rethink the wisdom of his attitude.

“Jesse.” It came out sullenly.

“Jesse what?”

“Turner. And who the hell are you?”

“I’m Matt Urban, alpha of this pack. That’s my beta, Bryce. What are you doing in my territory, Jesse?”

Jesse shook his head and fisted his hands in the blankets he was holding to his bare chest. Like he was some kind of modest maiden. Or, Matt realized an instant later, like he was vulnerable and scared. The way his fists were twisted in the blanket looked like he expected to be yanked out of the bed.

“Didn’t know it was your territory,” Jesse said. Then he let out a little huff. “Sorry if I was trespassing.”

Matt didn’t believe him for an instant. It was impossible for any shifter to have missed the fact this was a pack’s territory. His best guess? Jesse was frightened of them, and he was saying what he thought Matt wanted to hear.

Matt stepped closer, holding his gaze. His wolf pushed against his skin, hungry for something. Truth, he thought.

“Are you trying to tell me you didn’t pick up our scent markers?”

“Well, hell, the place smelled of a whole bunch of wolves, but I didn’t know it was your property,” Jesse protested. “Listen, this has been all kinds of nice, but I gotta go. I need my boots.”

Matt’s fingers dug into his palms as he clenched his fists, controlling his instinct to shake the truth out of Jesse. Matt was an alpha.No one lied to him, not if they knew what was good for them. But laying hands on someone already injured sat wrong in his gut.

“Christian backtracked your trail and found your boots and other gear,” Bryce said, when he realized Matt wasn’t going to say anything further.

Tearing his gaze from Matt’s face to glance at Bryce, Jesse relaxed very slightly. “Well, thank God something went right. So, you got any more hoops for me to jump through before I’m outta here?”

It sounded snarky, but Matt heard the fear behind it, sharp and sour.

He turned away to straighten the chair, using the movement to keep his wolf tamped down. He’d figure out later just why his wolf was so front and center tonight.

“How long ago did this happen?” he asked Bryce.

Bryce tipped his head as he thought back, working it out. “Must be about an hour since Dave came to find me. I let Karl know, and we had a good look around. There’s no one else out there, Matt. Not at the moment.” He evidently saw the way Matt was clenching his jaw. “And there was no point in letting you know when you were driving. Figured I’d fill you in as soon as you got home.”

Matt supposed that was fair. But it didn’t mean he liked it. The safety of the pack was his responsibility, and it was a sacred trust.

The room was silent save for Jesse’s uneven breathing. The faint smell of antiseptic hung in the air from whatever Bryce had done to Jesse’s wound. Beneath that, the scent of a stranger—not pack—set Matt’s teeth on edge.

Jesse was practically vibrating with adrenaline. If Matt kept pushing, he’d only get more lies. He’d try a different tack. Not least because that corporate catered lunch had been hours ago, and the scent of food had made its way in from the hallway until Matt wanted nothing more than to sink his teeth into a juicy steak.

He’d get Jesse to let his guard down, to lose that snarky defiance he clearly used as a defense. Then, it would be easier to wrest the truth out of him.

“I’ve only just gotten in, and I need to eat,” he said casually. “You can join us for whatever Jason’s cooked up tonight before you go.”

He hoped Jesse would agree. Otherwise, he’d have to make him, and after a long and frustrating day dealing with shifter bureaucracy, he didn’t want to go to the effort.

“Think he’s doing steak and baked potatoes,” Bryce said. His voice was just as casual as Matt’s, but he knew what he was doing. “And cheesecake for dessert.”

Jesse’s stomach gurgled. They all pretended not to notice.

“Reckon I could stay just a while longer,” Jesse said, after due consideration, as if he were doing them a great favor.

“Do you want a shower before you get dressed?” Bryce asked.

“You sayin’ I need one?”

“Hell, yes,” Matt said, before he could stop himself.

To his surprise, Jesse suddenly grinned. Without the strain in his face, and with a smile like that, the kid was a goddamn heartbreaker.

Matt turned away.

“Ten minutes,” he said. “We eat in the kitchen. Bryce will show you.”

He left. If he stayed, he might just do whatever it took to see that smile again, and Matt didn’t get to want things like that anymore. Not when he still tasted blood in his dreams.