Page 12 of Claimed By The Tracker

"I'd rather know where you're going."

"That's not what I asked."

"No." His gaze held mine. "It's not."

At least that was honest.

"What happens when my father sends someone else?"

"He will."

Not if.

Will.

Dread slipped through me.

"You sound sure."

"He hired a tracker before you even ran. You think I'm the only contingency he planned?"

I didn't want that to make sense.

It did.

I looked at Delaney's Civic.

Three hundred and forty dollars.

Someone else's car.

No new phone.

No destination.

No idea which supernatural authority might help me—or which one my father had already bought.

Then I looked at the wolf standing between me and everything I'd just escaped.

Going anywhere with him was insane.

Going back was worse.

And for the first time since 6:03 this morning, someone was offering me something my father never had.

A choice.

I closed my fingers around Delaney's keys.

"Where?"

His shoulders eased almost imperceptibly.

"Farmhouse outside town. Twenty minutes. My team is waiting."

"Your team."

"Pack Guard."