Page 26

Christophe

Meetinghim in person hadn’t done anything to settle my mind. I hadn’t gotten to look at his paw, and I wondered if I had, if it would’ve even made any difference. Aside from a handsome face, he was contemptible, obviously unrefined, and completely the opposite of anyone I would’ve imagined to be my fated mate. Admittedly, I had gotten my hopes up and imagined that maybe something magical would happen and I would discover somethingamazing.

Irritating.Unrefined. Disrespectful. Just thinking about my interaction with him made my face hot. But what could I expect from a commonthief?

And that’sall he was. A sneaky raccoon, picking the scraps from the garbage. And yet, I couldn’t stop thinking abouthim.

Ididn’t knowwhy I’d decided to come back to the police compound the very next morning. There was no reason for me to waste my time again, but I was compelled to return. I guess, despite everything, I was intrigued. And seeing him was an excuse to get away from regular clan affairs. Meetings, meetings, and more meetings. Taking care of two hungover teenagers. Meetingsagain.

At least he was interesting.

Chief Inspector Burnside appeared,and I could see he was hiding the fact that he wasn’t pleased to see me back again. Still, he put on a smile and extended his hand. The high clans controlled everything, including his salary. He knew he had to play thegame.

“Mr. Luna.”

“Chief Inspector.Good morning. Any progress with my littleintruder?”

“I’m working on it,I promise I’ll have something for you shortly. But you know, you don’t have to wait for a name to decide on his sentence. You can do that whenever you’dlike.”

“And I’d liketo know who it is I’m punishing,” I said. “And I’d like to see himagain.”

His smile pulledinto a thin line. “Well, that’s… I’m questioning him now, and making some good progress. I don’tthink—”

“I’d liketo see him again,” I saidpleasantly.

The chief inspector’sface turned a slight shade of red, and he cleared his throat. “Okay. Sure. Followme.”

“Thank you, Chief Inspector.”

He broughtme to a small interrogation room with a desk in the center, and Mr. Asshole sat silently behind it, his hands cuffed. The floor was covered in breakfast food. I stepped carefully over a smashed tomato and sat down in the empty chair across from him. The chief inspector crossed his arms and stood by thedoor.

“Eat My Asshole,”I said, and the man looked up at me. I couldn’t help butgrin.

“What the hell do you want?”

“Just back to talk.Maybe find out what your nameis.”

He snorted in response.

“What’s all that?”I asked, gesturing to the food on theground.

“Chief Burnballshere is trying to starve me to death,” he said. “I haven’t eaten sinceyesterday.”

“Seriously? You must be starving.”

“Famished.”

Ihatedthe idea of him being hungry, regardless of who he was or what he did, and it angered me that the chief inspector had tried to take advantage of his hunger. It just wasn’tright.

“Chief Inspector?”Isaid.

“Yes?”

“Would you mind leaving us?”

He sputtered a protest,but I cut himoff.

“Iinsist,”I saidfirmly.