A LOVE STORY OF HATE

M

inutes ago,

I volunteered to be my ex’s Second in his duel against the ruthless Creek Alpha. In other words, I signed up to referee a fight-to-the-death between the two most powerful werewolves in Colorado.

Both my heart and stomach were a mess of nerves, but not for the same reasons. Where my heart pounded with dread, my stomach clenched from my mate’s heightened pulse.

I craned my neck and squinted into the bright midday sun until I located August standing on the deck overlooking the lawn, light-brown skin a shade paler than usual, and the spray of freckles across his nose and cheekbones a shade darker.

I bit my lower lip. He was about to get a lot angrier once he learned the extent of my deal with Liam. Even though I itched to touch my navel that was fluttering with August’s fury, I didn’t want to draw attention to our bond, so I clenched my fingers into fists and locked them against the frayed hem of my cut-offs.

Liam strode ahead of me onto the sun-soaked lawn of the inn. “Set Alex Morgan free!” he bellowed to the males of my pack holding Everest’s murderer.

Blue eyes flashing with confusion, my uncle leaned over the wooden railing of the inn’s deck. “Free? He murdered my son, Liam!”

Releasing the enemy Alpha’s son was a risky move, but it was the only one that gave us leverage on this godforsaken duel. By cutting Alex loose, Liam and I were buying time to figure out how Cassandra Morgan defeated the Pine Pack Alpha. Even though Liam wasn’t convinced she’d cheated, I was. Julian had thrown up after biting her. A throatful of fur and blood shouldn’t have upset a werewolf’s stomach. My theory was that she’d rubbed a toxic but odorless lotion into her skin, odorless because Julian’s Second inspected the Creek Alpha’s body before the duel and didn’t notice anything amiss.

Cole freed Alex’s arm and stepped aside.

“Watt, let Alex go!” Liam repeated, voice clapping the air.

Color darkening his jaw, August all but tossed Alex’s arm, making the Creek shifter stumble. The boy steadied himself against the railing, then pushed his blond hair off his bruised face—the Boulders who’d held him captive had done on a number on him—and started down the deck’s staircase, a small limp in his gait, probably a result of my pack’s roughness. The limp didn’t damage his self-assurance, though. His confidence was as potent as the scent of day-old sweat and caked blood that wafted from his body. I backed away as he passed me, then backed away some more when his gaze zipped over me.

The boy might’ve resembled a Renaissance cherub with his golden curls and arresting violet eyes, but as far as I was concerned, he was the devil.

Liam stepped in front of me. “Eyes off my wolf.”

I cringed. Technically, Liam was my Alpha, so I was his wolf, but I sensed that wasn’t how he’d meant it. And from the heightened pounding inside my abdomen, I took it August sensed the insinuation too.

I looked over my shoulder, imploring him with my eyes to calm down. After a moment, the pulsing quieted. Not to say it became quiet. Oh no. My navel still ticked like a time bomb, but the sensation stopped overwhelming all my other senses. I returned my attention to Cassandra Morgan, who’d finally cloaked her naked body in a white sheath that made her look more wraith than werewolf.

“Alexander Morgan.” Tipping her face down toward her son, Cassandra ran her knuckles over his cheek.

Alex wasn’t short—he had a good three or four inches on my five-seven stature—yet the top of his head only reached Cassandra’s chin.