“Isn’t Damian Lewis your cousin?” asked Trey, her mate. “I mean, wasn’t he your cousin?”
Ryan nodded at Trey’s question before answering the first. “All I know about her is that she’s a lone wolf, she volunteers at a shelter for loners, and she’s hoping we’ll accept my younger cousin into our pack.”
Taryn smiled gently. “Ryan, sweetie, I know you’re more of a grunter than a talker, but I need some more info here. How did you meet her? Why would the kid need you? What happened to him?”
Settling into an armchair, Ryan gave them a bullet-point version of the morning’s events. As his Alpha female had rightly stated, he was a man of few words. Although he was detached and unsociable, he wasn’t completely without social skills. He simply didn’t care to be what others would define as “social.” He didn’t believe in fluff talk or that smiling should be his default expression.
People sometimes assumed that he wished he were talkative. That wasn’t the case at all. When he was quiet, it was because he simply didn’t have anything he wished to share at that moment. But his quiet nature often made people feel uncomfortable, even though not everyone who talked actually listened. They wanted to talk mostly to fill a silence.
Having grown up in a house full of drama, he found something about silence very comforting. Words were overrated, in his opinion. They could be used to hurt and scar, and they could easily achieve it.
“I didn’t know there was a shelter for loners,” said Jaime, the Beta female.
“I suppose it’s not something they’d want to advertise, since loners don’t have protection from packs,” Taryn pointed out.
“Did you know Damian well?” asked Dante, the Beta male, as he toyed with his mate’s long sable hair.
Ryan shook his head. “I only met him a few times when we were kids. He was my father’s first cousin, and my second cousin.”
“How did he die?” asked Jaime.
“He challenged his Alpha for the position, lost the duel, and refused to submit.”
Shocked, Jaime leaned forward. “He chose to die rather than submit, even though he had a mate and son to take care of?” Her horror was understandable. Shifters often didn’t survive the breaking of a mating bond—a metaphysical connection that allowed mates to feel each other’s emotions and bolster each other’s energy. Damian would have known his death could lead to that of his mate and, consequently, leave his son without parents.
“That’s what I heard,” said Ryan. At that moment, Rhett returned. “What did you find out?”
Returning to his spot on the sofa, Rhett replied, “Damian Lewis is your cousin, which I’m guessing you already knew.” At Ryan’s nod, Rhett continued. “He mated when he was in his twenties. His mate gave birth to twins, but one died within hours of being born. His son, Zac, was eight when his father died in a duel with his Alpha. Damian’s mate died days later. His pack—the York Pack—is small, extremely private, and resides about five miles from Lance’s pack.” Lance was Taryn’s father, who she didn’t have a great relationship with. “Apparently the Alpha, a guy named Brogan Creed, is a tough son of a bitch who runs his pack with an iron fist.”
“What about the loner?” Taryn asked. “What did you find out about her?”
“Nothing.”
Dante arched a brow. “Nothing?”
“Either Makenna Wray doesn’t exist, or someone’s erased her proverbial paper trail. There’s absolutely no record of her anywhere.”
Ryan stilled. He was assuming Makenna had been cast out of her pack, since it was rare for shifters to choose to be a loner. If she’d changed her name, she must have done something so bad that she was in hiding—maybe even had a bounty on her head. Volunteering at a shelter could mean that she regretted her actions and was seeking some form of redemption. Or maybe she was simply using it as a place to hide.
Trey looked at Ryan. “I don’t like this.”
“Asking you to meet her could be some kind of trap—an attempt to get you someplace, alone and vulnerable,” Dante warned.
He was right. But . . . “I have to know.”
Trey inclined his head. “So, Dante and I will go with you.”
“And me,” added Taryn. “You’re not leaving me out of this.”
Jaime gave Dante a look that said, “Nor me.”
Trey pinned his tiny mate with a hard glare that had no effect. “I’m not okay with you being around a lone shifter. They’ve been hired to breach our defenses and invade our territory many times in the past.” He looked at Jaime. “Hell, you were shot by a loner.”
“So was Roni,” Dante pointed out, referring to the mate of their fellow enforcer, Marcus.
“Not all loners are hired guns,” said Jaime. “Makenna said she works at a shelter.”
“Yeah,” Trey confirmed, “but we don’t know for sure if that’s true.”
Taryn raised a hand. “Let it go, Flintstone. Ryan is one of my wolves, and this situation is a tricky one. I intend to be there tomorrow.”
“I’m going too.” Jaime looked up at her mate when his fingers clenched in her hair. “I won’t stay behind, Popeye.” She’d given him that nickname due to his very muscular frame.
Of course, Dante—a wolf who valued control as much as Ryan did—wasn’t too happy with his mate’s response. Apparently he hadn’t yet resigned himself to the fact that Jaime would never be someone he could control, because he continued to pressure her to change her mind.