No Fae spell was doing this. Graham roared as he yanked open the door.

Two fuzzy faces turned toward him, two pairs of eyes widened under two pairs of ears that managed to be pricked and flopping at the same time. Two little muzzles opened in identical, high-pitched howls, and two tails started moving rapidly, dumping over a half gallon of milk between them.

“What the hell are you doing in there?” Graham bellowed.

Matt and Kyle, the three-year-old wolves, yipped with joy, and launched themselves out of the refrigerator. They had a frenzied fight over who would reach Graham first, Kyle winning by a whisker. Both cubs scrambled up Graham’s legs to his bare arms, wriggling with joy as though they hadn’t seen him in weeks instead of about twenty-four hours.

Graham’s back door opened, and a Shifter woman came in—Brenda Roberts, the cubs’ foster mother. She ducked her head, as all Graham’s wolves did when they faced their alpha, but her eyes held defiance.

“I can’t do it anymore, Graham,” she said. “I can’t take care of them. I have my own cubs to look after, and I. Just. Can’t. Do. It.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Graham asked, something like panic rising. “You’re taking care of them fine.”

Brenda shook her head and kept on shaking it. “No I’m not. I’m not sleeping, or eating, or doing anything but running around after those two little shits. I can’t even go to the bathroom without them coming in and tearing down the shower curtain and eating the toilet paper. They need a firm hand, Graham, and mine’s not firm enough.”

“I don’t have time for this,” Graham said loudly. Kyle and Matt clung to him, small claws digging into his arms. “If you don’t want to take care of them, fine. But they stay with you until I can find another foster.”

Brenda was already shaking her head again. “I can’t. When they had space to run around up in Elko, they were fine. Sort of. Now that they’re more restricted, they’re going insane and taking me with them. I’ve gone through eight months of hell, and I can’t do it anymore. Punish me if you want to, but I’m not keeping those cubs another day.”

Brenda still wouldn’t look at Graham directly, but she had determination on her face. Lower dominance wolves never disobeyed their alpha—unless driven beyond normal endurance into something that would break them. Brenda had stood strong behind Graham and given a lot to the Lupines. And now this loyal wolf was being defeated by two adorable cubs who looked up at Graham with innocent eyes.

Graham could shove the cubs back at her and tell her to suck it up; he had that right. She could obey, or she could die.

But Graham wasn’t leader because he was the loudest-voiced ass**le in the pack, no matter what anyone else thought. He’d seen how worn down Brenda was, and it was true—she had four cubs of her own. She’d taken Kyle and Matt because of her soft heart, and Graham knew he’d taken advantage of her. So had Matt and Kyle.

“All right, all right,” Graham said. “Just go.”

Brenda’s shoulders slumped in relief. She wouldn’t have left the house without Graham giving her permission—not like Misty—no matter how much staying was upsetting her.

Brenda gave him a grateful look then turned around and marched out the door, the draft of its closing rushing over Graham and the cubs.

“Shit.”

Graham grabbed both cubs by their scruffs and held them up, facing him. “What am I going to do with you two?”

Kyle and Matt squirmed in joy and wagged their tails.

“Shit,” he repeated, softly this time. Raising Dougal had been the hardest thing Graham had ever done—he was still doing it. No way could he go through that again. “Tell you what; we’ll go visit a nice Shifter lady whose cubs had to have been worse even than you two.”

Fine with Matt and Kyle. Graham left the disaster of his kitchen and went out of the house again. He marched back through Shiftertown, the two wolf cubs on his shoulders clinging so tightly they ripped into the black shirt Diego had given him, cutting into Graham’s skin underneath.

CHAPTER SIX

Misty surveyed the wreck of her store without being able to feel much. She’d built the shop with nothing but a little savings, a start-up grant for women in small business, and a bit of know-how.

Her father had been great at starting businesses. He’d absolutely sucked at keeping the businesses going after a week or two, because his get-rich-quick plans never worked out. But it had been so much fun for Misty and Paul to help him out. When the three of them had been together, working, planning, and dreaming, they couldn’t be stopped.

Dad had never succeeded, and had died in an accident when Misty had been a senior in high school. Misty had learned from him, though, how to get a business up and running. She’d chosen a flower shop because people bought flowers when they wanted to make other people happy or cheer them up. Misty had had enough unhappiness shoved at her in her lifetime that she wanted a career that would take her away from that.

She’d discovered selling flowers was not as easy as it seemed, but she’d researched, worked hard, and got lucky when this strip mall had a small slot to fill. Her shop didn’t make millions, but Misty made a living, and she liked what she was doing. Now that Paul had his parole, he worked for her, doing deliveries and running errands, and he was enjoying it.

Misty had labored so hard for this business, and one person with a grudge had ruined it in the space of a morning. She might have to close, not just until she cleaned up the store, but for good. She’d had to cancel the orders for today that hadn’t already been on the van, and she’d probably have to cancel the rest of the orders for the month and return her customers’ money. One of Diego’s security team had taken the shop’s van, the only thing intact, out to make the remaining deliveries so Paul could stay safely in Shiftertown.