Her wolf growled, insulted by the “coward” comment. Ally wanted to snort. If she’d wanted to kill Rachelle, she’d have gone at her from the front. And she’d have made sure she finished the job. Since she’d joined the Collingwood Pack two years ago, Ally had only been involved in two duels. Both times, Ally had won. She fought hard and dirty, but she did not attack from behind. And she did not run off like a coward. No self-respecting dominant wolf would.

“You were jealous because you lost Zeke to her,” charged Clint with a taunting smirk, “and you thought that if she was out of the picture, you would get him back.”

Even if she had wanted Zeke back, killing Rachelle wouldn’t have achieved it. Since it was rare for shifters to survive the death of a mate, Zeke would most likely have died right along with her. As such, Clint’s allegation couldn’t be more pathetic. And because Ally had a terrible habit of accidentally speaking her thoughts aloud, she mocked, “Wow, you cracked this case wide open.”

Clint flushed from the neck up, but after a moment he gave a careless shrug. “It’s your word against Rachelle’s.” His tone made it clear that Ally’s word meant jack shit. Unfortunately, that was true.

The past few months had sucked big-time. It had been a blow when her boyfriend found his true mate, but Ally was happy for Zeke. She had been nothing but welcoming and respectful to his mate, but the female had loathed her from minute one. Ally had felt the hate pouring from her in waves—literally. Being highly empathetic came with the Seer package.

Her intuition had told her that Rachelle Lavin was going to be trouble . . . and it had been right. Despite Zeke not hesitating to claim Rachelle as his mate, the female had immediately embarked on a hate campaign with Ally as the target.

Ally had been shocked when Zeke berated her a few months ago for supposedly insulting his mate. Confused and riled, she’d sought out Rachelle . . . playing right into the woman’s hands, she later realized. Everyone had witnessed her yelling at her Beta female, who had remained calm and cool as she rebuked Ally and gave her pitying looks for her “jealousy.”

That was when the “Ally’s jealous” tripe had started. And she had quickly found that there wasn’t a good defense against that seventh-grade insult. If Ally ignored it, she was jealous. If she responded with a smart comeback, she was jealous. If she got pissed and told them to go eat shit, she was not only jealous but bitter too.

Shortly after that incident, Rachelle had claimed that Ally was sending her hateful text messages. Again, Zeke had freaked at Ally. So again, she’d sought out Rachelle, demanding that she produce these fictional messages. To her utter shock and dismay, Rachelle had. Ally had adamantly and loudly denied sending them, insisted that Rachelle must have at some point taken Ally’s cell phone and sent them to herself. Which, of course, sounded plain crazy—yet it was true. But no one other than Ally seemed to see that.

And so, her pack mates had slowly but surely pulled away from Ally. In the time she’d been part of the Collingwood Pack, she’d healed several of them and had twice saved the pack from conflict through her visions . . . but all of that had ceased to mean anything.

In their defense, Rachelle was a very convincing liar. She’d made Ally an outsider in her own pack. And thanks to the heifer’s latest stunt, Ally might be cast out.

“No one’s going to buy your story, Ally,” Clint growled into her ear. Her wolf snapped her teeth at him. The guy certainly had the Prick Factor going on. “No one’s going to believe you. We have a witness who claims they saw you attack Rachelle.”

“I doubt that.”

He straightened. “Oh, really? Why?”

“One, because the assault didn’t happen. Two, because if you did have a witness, you wouldn’t need a confession. As you said, it’s currently my word against Rachelle’s. People might trust her and like her, but that’s not enough to justify an execution. Particularly since there are some gaping holes in Rachelle’s little tale.”

“Such as?”

“Why would someone who wanted to kill her run away while she was unconscious? Wouldn’t they take advantage of that moment in which she was totally helpless and deliver a killing blow, considering they were a ‘coward’ and all?”

Clint was quiet for a moment. “Maybe you heard someone coming. Or maybe you noticed someone was watching.”

“Or maybe Rachelle’s just talking out of her ass.” Again.

“You know what I think, Ally?” asked Greg.

“Oh, this is going to be good,” she muttered sardonically.

“I think that you didn’t really want to kill Rachelle. I think you just lost your temper at a weak moment. We’ve all acted impulsively with anger at some point, right?” His tone turned soft and understanding. More mind games. “I think that you might have genuinely believed Rachelle had ordered the boys to trash your cabin. You were already very upset with her for taking Zeke from you. You’ve been feeling lost and alone. Jealousy has often got the better of you lately, and who could blame you for that?” Greg actually patted her hand.

Oh, for Christ’s sake, was she really supposed to buy this oh-so-caring act?

“When you walked into the cabin and saw the chaos, it was the icing on the cake. You did what anybody would do in that situation. You snapped, and you tracked down the person you convinced yourself was responsible. That was why you fled the scene after attacking Rachelle. Once you saw her unconscious on the ground, your anger dimmed and you felt bad for what you did.”