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“He likes me just fine,” Wyatt said knowingly. “He’s just worried you’ll like me more than him.”
I rolled my eyes, deciding to put whatever wolfy games the two men were playing to the back of my mind.
We found Dean’s office quickly and went straight through. What had been an expansive space with just two peoplequickly seemed crowded, with Dean, Kaleb, Mitchell, Wyatt, and me standing around like football players in a huddle.
Being in an enclosed space with so many wolves was doing a number on my head. I’d gone magic blind from the amount of gold sparkles that clung to the air. A veritable Tinkerbelle explosion of glittery magic, clinging to the air and catching the light like dust. My grandmother had taught me how to ‘switch off’ the magic vision, but it didn’t quite work. My other side canceled my magic in some areas and enhanced it in others.
Dean greeted me with a single nod before turning to the others. Kaleb had made himself at home on top of the filing cabinet against the back wall, perched like a cat. The others crossed their arms over their chests, wearing stormcloud expressions.
No one spoke until the door shut.
Dean turned to me. “How many Fae live in Locket?”
My brow puckered. I knew why he asked, but I couldn’t help but feel prickly over the question. “Excuse me? You think we have meetings every quarter?”
Wyatt lifted a hand, grinning like a schoolboy. “Wolves have meetings.”
Dean pinched the bridge of his nose. “Not helpful, Wyatt.”
Wyatt mimed zipping his lips.
“As far as I know, I’m the only Sídhe in Locket. I can’t speak for the Wild Fae, the Unseelie, or the Wolfkin.” I cut in. “Is this about the dead cat?”
Kaleb’s eyes flicked to mine before he went back to lounging on the cabinet, playing the part of the spacey, senile older wolf.
“Mitchell filled us in about the dead animals. When you brought the rat to us, I assume you didn’t sense the Glamour?” Dean continued. “We have reason to believe your ex-husbandisn’t responsible for the animals or your general sense of unease.”
Anger flashed through me, and my cheeks warmed. “You don’t know what Joel is capable of.”
“Whatever he has done—” Dean started to speak, but Mitchell held up his hand, shooting the Alpha a look that would have made a lesser man shrivel.
Mitchell stepped forward, giving Dean his back, as he took my hand. I quickly realized that Mitchell had overheard my conversation with Faith. He knew some of what Joel had done to me. Not all of it, but some.
“We have to tell her about the Huntsman.” Kaleb sang.
“She isn’t a wolf.” Dean snapped, the large man clearly having trouble maintaining a semblance of calm after Mitchell’s direct challenge.
“Whatever has slipped through the Gate is targeting her.” Kaleb perched his chin on his tented fingers. “Either the Huntsman is being his devious self, or some vicious beastie has slipped through the Gate and has targeted Mallory as its next meal.”
“A Fae beast?” My voice pitched, thinking of all of theDurrachin my grandmother's bestiary. “What kind of monster leaves dead animals around?”
“Cats leave dead things as a prize or sign of affection.” Wyatt chimed in, but his smirk had dissolved as the somber mood set in.
“The Fear Dorta likes to stoke paranoia in its victims. Tending to the fear like a garden, watering the flowers to make them grow.” Kaleb’s eyes were fixed on the ceiling, far away.
“The Fear Dorta is the Night-King’s pet.” Dean pinched his brow. “He breeds them and sics them on his enemies.”
“What about Joel?” I piped up. “Even if he isn’t the person leaving dead animals, he’s still parked at the end of my driveway every day.”
All four men ignored me as if I hadn’t spoken, and I felt an inch tall. Once again, I was back at the police station, sporting a black eye and fingerprint bruises on my throat as I tried to make a report—only to have a deputy call Joel to take me home.
My fingers began to tremble, and I curled my hands into fists and pushed them against my thighs, though it did nothing to stop the shaking.
The lump in my throat grew, stinging with unshed tears, making breathing difficult.
I would have given anything to be safe behind my wards at home at that moment. But with Joel outside every single day, even my safe haven had been stripped away.
“Mallory, do you know of the Huntsman?” Dean asked carefully, pulling out his office chair and sinking into the seat. He knitted his fingers together and observed me.
