Dante
I didn’t like the look on Dr. Myles’ face when Shirley walked out of that room. She’d hidden it well, but I knew her — knew the way her eyes tightened when she was holding back a storm. And if Ivy was involved, there was no doubt that storm was aimed straight at me next.
I paced the length of my office, leather jacket creaking with each turn, my wolf pacing right along with me. Every bone in my body was screaming that something wasn’t right. The note, the timing, the way the rogues had been moving lately — this wasn’t random chaos. This was a setup.
Talon leaned in the doorway, arms crossed.
“You’ve been stalking that carpet for twenty minutes, boss. What’s in your head?”
I tossed him the folded note that had found its way into Shirley’s hands. He read it, jaw tightening.
“Hunt
