“Shut up.” He pulled the covers back and glared at his childhood friend. “You’re getting so weird these days.”

“You have no idea.”

And something in Ric’s voice had Lock dragging his exhausted ass out of bed and into the shower.

By the time he walked out of his bedroom in a pair of jeans, the table was set and Ric was putting out his plate of food. The man’s timing had always been impeccable.

Sitting down at the table, Lock reached for a slice of bacon. “So what’s up? And this better not be more crazy shit about Dee-Ann.”

“No. It’s not about Dee-Ann.”

“Good.”

“We’re sleeping together, but that’s not why I’m here.”

Lock threw the half-eaten strip of bacon onto his plate. “You’re sleeping with her?”

“Figuratively and literally. But that’s not why I’m here.”

“I don’t care that’s not why you’re here. You can’t sleep with Dee.”

“Too late.”

“And when she’s done, you’ll let her go or are you going to do that annoying wolf thing you guys do? Where you keep trying to get them to be yours with flowers, chocolates, deer carcasses, and all that goddamn howling outside their window? Kind of like stalking but less threatening because you’re only partially human. Because I know for a fact that Dee hates when guys of any breed or species does stuff like that and she doesn’t respond to it well.”

“I’ll worry about that when we stop sleeping together.”

“You’re an idiot,” Lock snarled, picking up another piece of bacon.

“So you enjoy telling me when it comes to Dee-Ann. Now can I get on with it?”

“What could be worse than you stupidly sleeping with Dee-Ann Smith?”

“My father stealing money from the Pack?”

Lock raised his gaze to his friend’s, the pair staring at each other. Finally, Lock admitted, “Yep . . .

that wins.”

“Morning, Dee!”

Dee stopped mid pull-up, gritting her teeth.

“Aren’t you going to say ‘hi’ back?”

Dee let out a breath and lowered her legs, releasing her grip on the pull-up bar and dropping to the ground. She came to the Group’s in-house gym so she could work out in peace. So she could get in tune with her body while letting her mind work other issues out in the quiet and sanctity of the one place everyone knew she’d kill them as soon as look at them if they got on her dang nerves—a fail-safe she simply didn’t have at the bigger but busier gym at the sports center.

Unfortunately, there was one part-time employee of the Group who didn’t seem to understand the word “boundaries.”

With a sigh, shefaced the wolfdog. “Morning, Teacup.”

A few months back they’d given Blayne a part-time job at the Group. She had two roles: help the young hybrids that Dee had picked up off the streets to acclimate to life in a normal society, and teach them how to fight with knives. Because as much as the wolfdog irritated her last nerve, Dee had to admit the truth—the girl had some skills. Plus, she talked the language of the hybrid, which could be frighteningly off-kilter. Just like Blayne.

Teacup held out a sheaf of papers. “Evaluations.”

Dee took the files and quickly flipped through them. “Well?”

“What we’ve both been saying. Most are doing well, but a few . . .”

“Hannah?”

Teacup grimaced. “Okay. She’s a little resistant to . . . everyone. I’m working with her, though,” she added quickly.

“I know, Blayne.” Dee always used the woman’s real name when they discussed business. It was proper. “But she makes the higher-ups nervous.”

“Why? Because she’s broody and stares and snarls and snaps when anyone gets too close?” Her nose crinkled a little. “Now that I think about it . . . that might make me nervous, too.” She shook her head and stood tall. “Nope. Not ready to give up on her yet. Hannah’s young. Lots of potential. And, oh, my God, she’s so smart!”

“She can also rip a man’s heart out of his chest with her bare hands.”

“Well, who can’t do that?”

Dee shoved the papers back at Blayne. “You want her to stay, you deal with her.”

“I was thinking, though . . . it might be good if you stepped in as her mentor.”

“Why?”

She blinked. “What do you mean why?”

“I mean why.”

“Shouldn’t you just feel, like, honored that I’m asking you?”

“No.”

“Asking you to take her under your wing and—”

“No.”

“But—”

“I let her live. That means my good-deed job is done.”

“Please, Dee-Ann.”

“Forget it.”

The wolfdog’s bottom lip began to tremble, her eyes welling with tears, but those tears seemed to be a siren song for bears because as soon as Teacup turned them on, every bear from miles around came to her aid. This time it was a grizzly, polar, and a sloth. And they were all glaring at Dee. She hadn’t even lunged at Blayne yet.

Yet.

“Problem, Blayne?” the polar asked, brown eyes glaring at Dee from under one giant white uni-brow.

Bursting into hysterical sobs, Blayne turned and buried her face in the seven-nine polar’s . . .