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My heart does a funny little twist in my chest. I meet Griffin’s eyes—and the warmth there nearly knocks the air out of me. Protective. Stubborn. Possessive.

I glance down, feeling the heat in my face, but I don’t miss the way his foot slides along mine under the table, a slow, deliberate brush that leaves my skin buzzing.

Erik clears his throat pointedly, but there’s a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Alright,” he says, leaning forward again, serious once more. “We need to find out everything we can. Plans, prototypes, weaknesses. Before they finish whatever they’re building.”

I nod, feeling the weight of this settle on my shoulders. “We will,” I say.

Beside me, Griffin reaches up and gently tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers grazing my cheek in the softest, most possessive touch imaginable.

I go still.

“Your hair was getting in the way,” he says quietly.

If it were anyone else touching me, I would explode. I don’t like people touching me. Not so casually. But when Griffin does it, I feel grounded.

When did that start happening? When did I go from finding him untrustworthy and slightly dangerous to being a source of comfort?

Erik sits up in his chair, a thoughtful look shadowing his features as he cuts into a piece of rare meat. “Can either of you describe the place?”

Griffin wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, his plate nearly empty. He glances at me hesitantly before answering. “My memories are cloudy,” he says slowly. “There are pieces missing. Things they did to me—drugs, restraints. I don’t remember much about the facility itself.”

My heart breaks. I hate how easily he says it, like he has already buried the worst parts in order to be able to keep breathing.

“But I do,” I say quietly, setting my fork down. Griffin’s gaze flicks to me, some of the weight lifting from his shoulders. I shift in my seat, picking at the edge of my napkin. “Not the exact layout, except for the parts of the building they had me working in, and the way from our cell to the exit. But the land surrounding it. The area.”

Erik’s attention sharpens, the whole room seeming to narrow down to just the three of us.

“It was private property. Definitely,” I continue, racking my brain. “Probably ten acres, maybe more. There was an electric fence surrounding it. Remember? We jumped over it. It wasn’t a wild forest, either—it was...organized. Like someone designed it to look natural while hiding the security measures.”

Griffin lets out a low hum, rubbing the back of his neck. “When we were running, I didn’t pay much attention. I was just focused on getting us out of there.”

“You ran fast,” I say with a small smile. “Really fast. I had to hide my face in your fur because I thought I would get whiplash.”

He gives me a serious look, impressed. “Because of you,” he says, putting a piece of bread on my plate. Again.

I shake my head in amusement and start picking at it. “I gave him something,” I explain to Erik, who is watching us with the faintest hint of a smile. “A vial of a liquid I created. It was designed to boost a shifter’s strength and speed for a short time. I had been developing it here, and the formula was still in my head.”

Griffin shakes his head. “It worked a little too well. I barely remember half the escape. Just moving. Fast.”

Erik taps his fork against his plate thoughtfully. “So, you’re estimating the facility was several days’ journey from here?”

Griffin shrugs. “Maybe. In human form, driving? Definitely a couple of days. In wolf form...Well, we pushed ourselves hard.”

Erik leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “But Griffin, you’re not exactly a baseline shifter.”

Griffin blinks at him, frowning slightly.

“You’re the heir to the throne. More than that—you’re the true king.” Erik’s voice is low, deliberate. “Your strength, stamina, and speed are naturally beyond those of any other wolf.”

Griffin sits back, silent. I feel the change in him—the discomfort, the weight of what Erik is saying.

“So what was two days to you”—Erik pauses, shrugging—“might actually be much farther away.”

The realization hangs heavy in the air.

I push the food around on my plate, my appetite fading. “Which means finding that place is going to be like finding a needle in a haystack.”