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“Tonight?” Dylan asked as he plopped our bags onto the sidewalk at our feet. “Where are we going, Mom?”

I sighed. So much for the grocery run. So much for the remaining dregs of my sanity. “Looks like we’re going with Hawk, Dyl.”

4

ACE

Ileaned against the polished surface of the bar and shook my glass at Striker. Even though the clubhouse was packed to bursting, I was the clan alpha, and as such, Striker always had an eye on what I needed. And what I needed tonight was something strong. The booze never gave me a buzz, but that didn’t stop me from trying.

“Everything all right?” Striker asked. Although he was on bar duty tonight, he was also acting as one of our enforcers. He was tall and barrel-chested, wearing a beat-up leather jacket with our clan insignia on the back. He didn’t talk much, but he could shut down troublemakers with a single severe look—an excellent quality for an enforcer.

“Yeah, just tired.” It was more than that, but I couldn’t identify what it was. I felt… out of sorts.

Striker didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t push. He stepped to the other side of the bar to pour drinks for a few of our guests.

Around me, music and laughter rang through the dim clubhouse. It was a big, comfortable space, like a cross between a bar and a good friend’s living room. There were couches, pool tables, a large back porch, and a few stuffed deer heads mountedon the wall. It was a typical Friday night—a time for the pack to wind down, relax, enjoy a few drinks, and listen to the classic rock blasting over the speakers.

It wasn’t only our clan, though. On Fridays, the clubhouse was open to all, and the space filled with people from Lakeview and nearby towns. Most of the people who showed up were curious about shifters, or were hoping they’d get a chance to sleep with one. The booze didn’t work on shifters, but with the shifter-chasers around, it did us well to keep the bar stocked.

Yeah, it was mostly shifter-chasers tonight. Shifter-chasers were a real thing, and there weren’t a lot of dragons on the East Coast. That meant a lot of them came into our territory for a chance to see what we were about.

They weren’t all tourists, though.

My gaze slid over to the couch. One of our younger clan members was sprawled on the couch with a drink in one hand and the other on Blakely’s waist. Blakely was a tall, athletic woman with deep red hair which she wore short, like a boy’s, but in a stylish way. She called it something once when I’d teased her about it—pixie cut? Who knew. I wasn’t really interested in the nuances of her style choices. Tonight, she was wearing a plunging black tank-top and tight black jeans. She had both hands on the guy’s chest and was laughing at something he said.

She must’ve felt my eyes on her, because her gaze darted to me. She patted his chest, then slid off his lap. He looked disappointed for a second, but another girl quickly filled Blakely’s spot—definitely a benefit of a buzzing Friday night.

Blakely sauntered up to me and leaned one elbow on the bar. “Hi, Ace. You’re looking particularly pissy tonight.”

“Not pissy. Keeping an eye on things.”

“As per usual. I always say the clan alpha deserves a few more breaks. You need to blow off some steam?”

I rolled my eyes. “Cutting straight to the chase, huh?”

She hummed, then shrugged one shoulder. “Something like that.” Her fingertips danced up my torso from my belt buckle to my sternum.

My dragon growled internally at the touch, even though her touch made arousal flame low in my gut. Blakely was sexy. That much was undeniable. I hadn’t had any conjugal visits—so to speak—while I was locked up, and when I got out, I did some… Well, overcorrection. I’d slept with a lot of shifter-chasers who’d made their way through the clubhouse doors, because I was horny, and they were easy. Blakely was always my most-regular hookup. She was hot, willing, and extremely flexible. Didn’t hurt that she was adventurous in bed.

But whenever I fucked a woman who wasn’t Harley Founty, my dragon grumbled with irritation and disgust. No matter how much I tried to explain reality to him, he refused to let it go. Dragons weren’t creatures of logic. But the truth was the truth. Harley was gone. We had to live without her. And yet, since Harley, I’d never met a woman my dragon was evenambivalentabout. He was always growly and pissed off. I’d gotten used to ignoring his frustration.

“What do you say?” Blakely purred. “Should we get out of here? Head to your place?”

Maybe a roll around with Blakely was exactly what I needed. She liked it a little rough, so she usually targeted me when I was looking pissy. She liked her hookups halfway between fucking and fighting. Perhaps I wouldn’t even take her home, just step upstairs to one of the private rooms…

“Ace!” Hawk called as he burst through the clubhouse door. “There you are!”

“Where else would I be?” I said.

Blakely suppressed a sigh and took a step back. She waggled her fingers at my brother. “Hi, Hawk.”

“What are you doing here?” I asked. “Aren’t you supposed to be with Mia and Bella tonight?”

“Change of plans,” Hawk said. “You need to come to the house. Now.”

Hawk’s expression was deathly serious. He wasn’t the type of guy to skip an opportunity for a good joke, so hearing this tone of voice on a Friday night instantly put me on edge. Whatever was going on—it was a big deal. And probably something pretty bad. I immediately thought of the invoices I’d been reviewing earlier. Did one slip through? Did we have feds knocking on our door, looking to take me back into custody?

“The shop?” I asked. “Did we screw up an order?”