Page 4

Thorne stood close, tall and steady, a quiet storm behind dark eyes. A Panther Shifter through and through. He was dangerous when provoked, but fiercely loyal to the ones he loved. The way his hand found the curve of Wicked’s back was unconscious, instinctive. They were tied together by more than just affection.There was history, a bond that couldn’t be broken, and it showed.

“You’ve got no idea how good it is to see your face,” Wicked said, pulling Billie Ann into a hug that smelled of herbs, ink, and something uniquely her. “You’ve been gone way too long.”

“It has been way too long,” Billie Ann murmured, holding on just a bit longer. When she pulled back, she grinned through the mist in her eyes.

“We’re sorry about Davey, Billie.” Wicked sniffed. “If you need anything at all, we are here for you.”

“Thank you. That means a lot.” She replied and meant it. “Where’s Bruce?” she asked, glancing around. The odd cat had always been more than just a pet. He was Wicked’s familiar and had somehow wormed his way into Billie’s heart too.

“Brooding in the tattoo shop,” Wicked replied with a roll of her eyes. “Said funerals make his fur fall out. He’s dramatic like that. The truth is, he’s a mess about Davey, just as we all are. He and Davey had a special friendship.”

Billie let out a soft laugh, tears returning anyway. “I missed that weird little pain in the ass.”

“Thorne,” Mac called out, lifting his chin and motioning him over to where he stood with Zelda and the stranger.

“I’ll be back,” Thorne said, kissing Wicked’s lips quickly before heading their way, his presence quiet but commanding as always.

Billie Ann’s gaze drifted immediately to the tall man beside Mac. He stood just slightly apart, like he wasn’t sure if he belonged or didn’t care. Long dark hair brushed his shoulders, and hisfeatures were rugged in a way that made her breath hitch. He looked like trouble and comfort all rolled into one.

“Who is that?” she asked, leaning closer to Wicked. “I’ve never seen him before. Is he new in town?”

“I don’t know,” Wicked replied, one brow arched as she gave a low, appreciative whistle. “But he’s definitely looking at you.”

Billie Ann's eyes flicked up, and sure enough, the stranger’s eyes were locked on her. His gaze was intense and unapologetic, like he already knew her somehow. Heat crept up her neck as she quickly looked away, her fingers brushing the side of her neck where her pulse thudded.

“Macy, do you know him?” she asked, hoping for some kind of explanation.

“Unfortunately, no,” Macy sighed wistfully.

Both Billie Ann and Wicked looked at Macy, who was staring at the stranger, then glanced at each other before bursting into laughter.

“What?” Macy asked, clearly flustered. “He’s freaking hot.”

“God, I’ve missed you,” Billie Ann said with a soft chuckle, pulling her into a quick, heartfelt hug. It felt good to laugh and feel normal again, if only for a second.

But even as they shared that moment, her thoughts wandered back to the man across the room… and the way his eyes hadn’t left her.

CHAPTER 3

Rafe’s sharp eyes swept the room the moment he opened the door. The buzz of voices and clinking glasses faded beneath the low hum of instinct that kicked in the second his boots crossed the threshold. The scent of grief still lingered in the air, tangled up with old wood, spilled whiskey, and something else—something unmistakably hers.

His gaze landed on her instantly. Her dark shag-cut framed wide, blue eyes that didn’t know she was being watched… yet. But his Jaguar instincts told him, without a shred of doubt, she was the reason he was here.

Mac hadn’t said much over the phone. Just that an old friend had been murdered, and he needed someone who could hunt without being seen. Track without losing focus. Eliminate threats without leaving a trace. Rafe hadn’t hesitated.

Davey Carter. The name struck a chord, even though he’d only met the Crow Shifter once. That night had been brief; a beer was shared with Mac in this very bar, and Davey cleaned glasses behind the counter with a smile that made everyone feel likefamily. Mac didn’t call in favors lightly. And Rafe didn’t ignore a call for justice, not when it was this personal.

He hadn’t planned to return to Assjacket, not when his home and sanctuary lay far south of the border in the dense forests of Mexico. But when Mac called, Rafe didn’t ask questions. He just packed a bag and crossed the border.

And now here he stood in a bar that held echoes of loss, facing a woman who had no idea her world was about to change again.

And somewhere out there… was someone who had taken a life they shouldn’t have. Rafe’s jaw clenched as he stepped fully inside. The hunt had begun.

After Mac finished the speech he was making, Rafe made his way through the crowded bar. It was like the air shifted around him. Conversations stuttered, backs straightened, and bodies moved—some subtly, others not so much—to clear a path. Shifters sensed danger, and Rafe wore it like a second skin, not out of arrogance but truth. There were few in their world who could match his precision, his skill, or his capacity for lethal calm.

Only Mac stood his ground, his gaze steady and welcoming. The only one in the room who didn’t flinch when those Jaguar-sharp eyes locked onto his.

“Rafe,” Mac greeted, gripping his hand in a firm shake, brotherhood and history between them. “Glad you made it. I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow.”