And then she’d died bringing in Graham’s cub. Just like that. One day there, full of hope; the next day, Rita and the stillborn boy cub had been taken away from him. The Guardian had thrust his sword into both Rita and the cub, and their bodies had crumpled to dust. Graham had scattered their ashes in the mourning ceremony, but he’d been numb, unable to weep.

He’d spent the next year alone out in the woods, living rough. He’d returned to find his father dying, other wolves in the pack ready to try to take over the minute he drew his last breath.

Graham had proved he was leader by preventing the takeover and punishing the instigators. He’d nursed his father through his last days, sending for the Guardian while the elderly wolf still lingered, to let him go out with dignity. Another mourning ceremony, but this time, Graham hadn’t had the leisure to go grieve for a year in the wild. He’d had to kick plenty of ass to stay leader, and had earned the reputation of being a mean bastard.

Graham had survived by learning to push away his pain. Now, during this ride through the waves of heat back to the city, the pain rushed at him and washed over him.

Graham had to hold himself together—for Dougal, for the orphaned cubs, for his clan and all the Lupines—whether they liked it or not. But he was achingly lonely.

Misty was a sweet spot in every day. And damned if Graham would let any of the Shifters come for her, question her, touch her, even look at her.

Now, Graham might be dying, or worse, taken as slave by the Fae. If that happened, he hoped Eric or someone would just kill him. He’d had a full life, didn’t matter.

Graham’s one regret was that he’d not had any time to spend with Misty. Always something else distracted him, plus Graham had backed off her because his pack didn’t want him taking a human mate. He’d always agreed with them—until Misty had smiled at him at a bar nearly a year ago.

Graham needed to talk to her. To see her. To immerse himself in her. He needed to find her, touch her, kiss her.

But when Graham stopped for gas inside the city limits, and his phone rang, it was Dougal, frantic and half crying. “Matt and Kyle are gone,” Dougal said, his voice blasting through the phone. “They disappeared, and I can’t find them anywhere.

 • • •

Misty stared up at Ben. “I think you’d better tell me exactly what you mean.”

“Just what I said.” Ben kept his fists on her desk, his brown eyes focused on her. He didn’t have the same black-hole stare of the Fae—Ben appeared to be human, but that didn’t mean he was safe. “McNeil is going to die, unless you help him.”

“How the hell do you know that?” Misty demanded.

Paul stood behind Ben, his arms folded, looking ashamed but making no move to stop Ben. “Listen to him, Misty. He’s a friend.”

“I’m waiting for him to say something worth listening to.” Misty kept her voice hard, as she’d learned to as a kid when other kids bullied her. She’d learned how to put on the hard shell while protecting her softer self. She’d protected Paul as well.

“I know all about the Fae’s spell,” Ben said. “You cured yourself somehow, Misty. For that I say—respect.” He gave her a nod. “But that counterspell only works on humans. Shifters aren’t cured by it. Helping Graham will be harder.”

Misty’s worry rose, and with it anger and fear. How did Ben know about the spell and whether it had cured her or not? “What are you?” she asked.

“No Fae in me,” Ben said. “No Shifter either. But I’ve made it my business to know about these things.”

“Can we get back around to Graham dying? Why are you saying I can save him?”

“It will be dangerous. I can’t lie to you, Melissa Granger. But I’ll help you. I’ll lead you on this quest and keep the path as safe as I can.”

“Quest? What quest?” Misty got to her feet. “Did I wake up in Lord of the Rings?”

Ben chuckled. “The journey won’t be that long. You won’t have to leave the city, not really.”

“Not really?” Misty glared at him. “You haven’t told me anything I want to hear yet.”

“That’s what happens to messengers,” Ben said. “We’re hated if we bring bad news, loved if we bring good. But I’m more than a messenger. I’m a guide.”

“I learned a long time ago not to blindly follow anyone,” Misty said. “If you can’t give me exact details on how I can save Graham, I’d like you to leave. The last person who coerced me into ‘helping’ made me poison Graham with Fae water. Forgive me for not instantly trusting you.”

Ben lifted his fists from her desk and shrugged. “That’s to be expected. Ask around about me.”

“I will.” Misty started to reach for the phone, as though ready to start making calls now.

Ben’s smile vanished. “Don’t wait too long to trust me, Misty. This Fae you met, Oison, he’s powerful, and he’s vindictive. He wants Graham because he’d a good leader. If you want to save Graham from him, you’ll need help, and that help is me.”

Misty lowered her hand from the phone and sat back down in her chair, Ben’s declarations spinning around her thick and fast.

“Graham saved me from Flores,” Paul broke in. “I wanted to help him. Ben said he could.”

How Ben had been so handy, Misty wasn’t sure. She needed the full story before she decided anything, which meant talking to Paul alone.