“BUTCH. DROP HER.”
If I’d thought my wolf was close to the surface, Tank’s was ten times closer. His voice rasped out halfway to a lupine growl. Despite being in the clutches of the fae, my shoulders relaxed away from my ears.
“Athena appears addled,” Marina/Butch answered. It was disconcerting, hearing a masculine voice emerge from this person I knew was a woman. Even more disconcerting not to smell a lie in the words.
But I was addled. Addled by the fae’s grip. By the fact that when I tried to speak, Marina’s hand clenched down so hard my teeth bit into my tongue.
“Like the time I borrowed your car?” Tank’s voice was wry and I could almost hear his head shake dismissively. Was that how he remembered the night of our first kiss? Me being addled? I winced.
Marina took in my reaction a
