I nodded. It had taken my human-born nose a while to learn how to find and interpret those things, and the truth was that I was still learning what each scent meant.

“With a stray, you also get a trace of the cat who infected him. But that doesn’t kick in until after the first shift, when the infection has thoroughly permeated the bloodstream.”

“So, in a few hours, we’ll be able to tell who infected him, just from smelling him?”

“If the scent belongs to someone we know.” Abby shrugged. “But that’s not likely. Titus’s goal is to identify and reach out to all the strays in his territory, but the reality is that that’s quite an undertaking. Most of them aren’t volunteering to be counted in the census.”

“So, what’s with the IV?” I asked, as Spencer carefully slid a needle into Corey Morris’s arm. “They’re medicating him?”

“No.” Titus leaned against the bars to my left, to get out of Loch’s way. “Hydrating him. The fever leads to dehydration, and IV fluids help fend off the worst of the sickness.”

Abby gave me a sad look. “I didn’t know that when you were infected. Sorry.”

I linked my arm with hers. “You did what you could. Without you, I’d probably be dead by now.”

And without Titus and his friends, Corey Morris might die too. Or he might live, then infect someone else.

The sick stray’s free arm twitched on the bed.

“He’s waking up,” I said.

“Damn,” Spencer swore, still holding the needle in the stray’s other arm. “Someone hold him still.”

Titus and Jace stepped forward and carefully held the patient steady by his shoulders and calves, while Drew stabilized Corey’s arms.

Spencer finished the IV with speed and skill that hinted at years of experience. He was throwing away the medical waste when his patient’s eyes fluttered open.

Everyone stepped away from the new stray as one, as if their movements had been choreographed.

Everyone except Titus.

“What’s going on?” I whispered, as Abby tugged me out of the cell.

“Titus needs to take the lead, to establish his authority from the beginning,” she whispered.

“Where am I?” Corey blinked several times, struggling to bring his vision into focus, and suddenly I felt like I was right there with him. Blinking at Abby from that filthy couch, in that cabin deep in the woods. I hadn’t been able to bring her into focus, but I’d known she was there, even when she wasn’t talking.

Somehow, I could smell her. And I’d known I wasn’t alone.

“Is this a hospital?” Corey lifted his arm, frowning at the needle secured to the inside of his elbow with medical tape. Then his gaze wandered farther into the room, and his eyes widened. “Am I in jail?”

“No. You’re in my basement. We use it as a makeshift infirmary,” Titus said. “You’re very sick, Corey, and that’s going to get worse over the next few hours. But then you’ll start to get better. You’re going to be fine. But you’re going to be different.”

“Who’re you?” The patient’s words were slurred, his face bright red with fever.

“My name is Titus Alexander. I’m your Alpha.”

SIX

Titus

“You should get some sleep.” Jace sank into the chair across the small table from me, and he looked as tired as I felt. “I’ll take a shift.”

I shook my head. “It needs to be me.”

“Morris won’t forget you’re his Alpha if someone else is there the next time he wakes up.”

“You don’t understand,” I said, and Jace rolled his eyes. A growl rumbled up from my throat, and I let it echo between us for a moment. “You may be tired of hearing it, but it’s the truth. We weren’t born into this. We didn’t see the appropriate behavior modeled for us in a Pride full of toms,” I told him. “Corey Morris won’t be conforming to an intrinsic set of instincts when he wakes up. He’ll be fighting to reconcile everything he ever knew and felt in his human life with a series of bizarre and terrifying new impulses. He will be at war with himself, almost literally.”

“I know,” Jace stood and pulled a mug from the cabinet. “You say this every time.”

“But you can’t truly understand it, because you’ve never felt it.”

“If you use the childbirth analogy again, I’m going to break this pot over your head.” He lifted a half-full glass carafe from beneath the coffee maker. “I don’t have to give birth myself to know that it hurts.”

“Spoken like someone without a uterus,” Abby said as she jogged down the steps, red curls bouncing around her face.

Jace took a third mug from the cabinet for her, wordlessly inviting her to sit with us.

“How’s Robyn?” I asked as I pushed a chair out for Abby with my foot.

“In bed, but not asleep.” Abby sat, then aimed her worried gaze at me. “Titus, she thinks you want to keep her here.”

I leaned back in my chair until I could reach the counter, where I snagged a box of sugar packets and avoided meeting her gaze. “Why would she think that when I agreed to personally hand her over to your father in two weeks?”

“She thinks this ‘vacation’ is some kind of audition. That if you like her, you’ll try to make her stay. For the same reason the Di Carlos want her.”

I frowned. “To study her? Why would I—”

“For a smart guy, you’re pretty stupid.” Jace set a full mug in front of Abby, then dropped into the only remaining empty chair. “She thinks you want to marry her, Titus. To use her as your dam, to start a true Pride.”

My frown became a scowl. “This is a true Pride. I don’t need her for that.”

“Not officially,” Abby said. “But traditionally, it’d be pretty hard for an Alpha to hold onto his territory if he can’t deliver a daughter, to…propagate. To insure the continuation of the species.”

“That’s ridiculous.” I stood and grabbed the carafe, then filled my own mug. “Our species isn’t dying out. There are more toms in Mississippi than I can keep up with.”

“Those are strays,” Jace pointed out. “They don’t count.”