Page 161 of Specter Bred

I caught his wrist.

“Don’t even fucking think about tucking me in.”

His hands immediately went up in surrender. “Wasn’t going to.”

“You absolutely were.”

“I considered it,” he admitted, fighting a smile. “But then I remembered how attached I am to having both hands.”

“Smart man.”

“I have my moments.”

He retreated to his own bed across from mine, but instead of lying down, he sat against the headboard, arms folded loosely over his chest. His eyes remained on me.

I narrowed mine. “Are you going to watch me sleep now? Because that’s fucking creepy, Boy Scout.”

“Yep.”

I blinked. “Yep?”

“Yep.” He settled deeper against the headboard. “Already lost you once tonight, Firecracker. Not doing it twice.”

Something squeezed behind my ribs.

“You know I’m not going anywhere.”

“I know.” His mouth tipped into that crooked smile of his. “Go to sleep anyway.”

For once, I didn’t argue.

I rolled onto my side, pulled the blanket beneath my chin, and the last thing I saw before exhaustion dragged me under was Sammy sitting across from me, keeping watch.

Within minutes, I was dead to the world.

Chapter 24: Nolan "Grizzly" Graves

“You’re fucking kidding,” Alvarez said, his eyes darkening as I filled in the rest of the story.

“I knew what kind of alphas they were the second I saw the way they handled Assessment One.”

“Jesus,” he dragged a hand over his face. “You didn’t tell me Redwood was related to one of the guys who…” His voice trailed off before he could finish, but he didn’t need to. I knew exactly who he meant.

Alvarez was one of the few people I’d ever trusted with the truth about what happened to my sister. When I hunted down every bastard responsible, he didn’t stop me. Rather, he helped me find them. And when their deaths eventually drew enough attention to trigger an inquiry, Alvarez made damn sure no one looked too closely at where I’d been when they died.

“Stephanie,” I said flatly. Then I grunted. “Tried to warn you and Cutter.”

“How’s Archer?”

“Tough as fucking nails.”

Alvarez gave a grim nod. “Wouldn’t expect anything less from her.”

I exhaled slowly, but the words did little to settle me. I knew better than most that soldiers could be damn good at hiding trauma. Maeve acting fine didn’t mean she was fine. My own PTSD still had a way of sneaking up on me when I least expected it, dragging me back into memories I thought I’d buried for good.

Lately, though, the night episodes had dwindled and eventually stopped altogether.

The last serious episode had been the night Maeve wandered into my room.