On the third day, Callum summoned his Beta, Marcus. "I need you to look into something,"
Callum said. "Discreetly." Marcus raised an eyebrow. "This is about the Moonstone girl,
isn't it?" "Her name is Fiona." The correction came out more sharply than Callum intended,
and Triton surged forward with possessive authority. MATE. Not 'Moonstone girl.' MATE. OURS.
Marcus's expression shifted to something like understanding. "You're serious about her."
"She's my mate," Callum said it with finality, “and she's in danger." "What kind of danger?"
"That's what I need you to find out." Callum leaned forward, and Triton's presence lent
weight to his words—regal, commanding, absolute. "Fifteen years ago, Kieran
Moonstone's mate died under mysterious circumstances. I want to know what really
h
