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Mo nodded. “I never knew mine, any of them. I knew my dad—he’s doing fifteen in Leavenworth—and my baby sister’s missing. No mom. I’d have killed to have a grandparent.”

Noah sneered. “They’re no good. Just die earlier.” And Mo’s heart clenched. The anger, thebetrayal,was so stark in Noah’s voice.

“So, tell me about your gran.”

Noah chewed his lip. “She’s dead,” he repeated.

Mo nodded. “That wasn’t what I asked.” Mo wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around Noah, but he knew that wouldn’t work. Noah shrugged.

“She was okay. Strict, but she taught me all sorts of card games.”

Mo changed tack. “I bet it was a pain living with an old lady, though. Bet she kept you on a tight leash.” He could see Noah struggling not to jump to her defense. “Bet you were glad when you could go to your dad’s.”

And he caught it. That flash of agony in his eyes even when his mouth stayed closed, and Mo felt like shit about doing this. But someone had to get through to him or he would be in baby jail soon, and Mo had no idea how that worked for a shifter.

“She was cool. But she died when I was a kid.” He shrugged. Mo didn’t point out that at fourteen, Noah was still a kid.

“I understand you and your dad are having difficulties, which is why you’re here.” And Mo saw something else. Defiance, yes, but a little desperation as well. Almost like Noah hadn’t expected this conversation.

His father had told the social worker it wasn’t working out as he’d hoped. That he really didn’t know what to do with Noah. That maybe they weren’t a good fit, and he was thinking of boarding school, which couldn’t possibly be allowed to happen since Noah was a shifter. The man acted like having a child was something you tried on for size.Like clothes.Noah kept getting into trouble, and he didn’t know what to do with him. And maybe it was good if they had a break. He definitely wouldn’t be back in the country for another four days, and his housekeeper had quit. Mo had seen it many times. Overwhelmed adults. Overwhelmed children. But Mo would bet his life there was something else going on here.

“I’m really interested in what you like to read,” he said, and Noah scoffed. Mo reached for the tablet Riley had given him. “How about you read to me?”

Noah was so grateful for the “out” that he obediently read a couple of passages easily before Mo let him go.

He waited maybe two whole minutes before Riley, Zack and Mattie, and Victor all came trooping back into the kitchen. Riley shut the door behind him.

“I didn’t enjoy that,” Mo said. He’d offered, sure, but it had been too much too soon. The quest for information seemed more important than a child’s wellbeing, which he didn’t like. But he wasn’t a psychiatrist or therapist.

He didn’t care if this was for Khloe. He wouldn’t traumatize a child. “All I did was remind him that his dad thinks he’s too much trouble and everyone good in his life has died.” He felt Victor put an arm around him, but he shook it off. He didn’t deserve to feel better.

“I spoke to Alex while you were in here,” Riley said. “And to explain, Alex has been here since he was eleven. He doesn’t remember ever belonging to a wolf pack, which is a huge thing for wolves. His dad left the pack and apparently took Alex with him, then told Alex years later, as he dropped him off at a police precinct, that he could stay there and eat ice cream until his dad came back for him. That he wouldn’t be long. He never returned. Alex was seven. He spent years bouncing around the system before he was recognized as a shifter, and he was eleven when he came to us.”

Mo’s heart ached for all the kids in the same situation. So many. Too many.

“Alex is convinced something else is going on. He’s been here over six years, and he might be a child, but he has a lot of experience.”

Mo scoffed. “I’m sorry, but experience in what?”

“Being a shifter,” Victor answered suddenly. “Being a child and coping with a huge secret that might get you killed.”

Mo gaped at him. “But—”

“Noah’s ashifter,” Zack repeated. “You need to leave your human sensibilities at the door with this one. Whether Noah can actually shift or not, he has the instincts of a shifter. Imagine being an adolescent on steroids and you’ll get a small idea of what this kid is going through.”

Mo glanced at all the determined faces and knew he was so out of his depth. Maybe he didn’t belong here at all. Mo stood and shrugged. “You all know better than I do.” He headed to his room. He didn’t care what they said. He was leaving. He had a sister to find.

Chapter Twelve

Mostaredattheempty bed. The carefully folded t-shirt he’d been given because he had no clothes with him, and no one had thought—offered even—to get his things from his apartment. Well, he was done. He was going. Daniel hadn’t been back, and they were all busy with the new kid…and Mo’s heart ached for him. So much anger. They didn’t need the problems he was bringing to them. Khloe was his problem. These guys had enough of their own.

The door opened and Zack walked into the bedroom, stopping when he saw Mo standing looking at the t-shirt he’d worn yesterday. Mo let it drop to the bed. “You’re leaving.” He said it like he was foretelling the end of the world.

Mo looked up. “I have to find Khloe. Hiding here isn’t going to help.”

“It shames me, but not one of us thought to get your belongings. I guess we’re so used—” But Zack cut himself off.

“So used to taking in throwaways?” Mo asked through gritted teeth. “I’m not one of your charity cases. I’ve been looking after myself all my damn life, and most of that I looked after Khloe as well.” How dare he?