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Caleb was talking to a tall woman with shoulder-length blond hair. Regan wandered over.

He turned to her. “This is Sophie. She’s the highest-ranking of the wolves that are left.”

Sophie didn’t look particularly pleased at the introduction. She’d been gazing at Caleb with adoration clear in her eyes. When she turned to Regan, the adoration slipped away, and her cold, blue eyes issued a challenge. Regan sighed. If the woman thought that being the highest-ranking wolf gave her some sort of claim on the new pack leader then she needed to rethink her ideas, and fast. If Sophie laid so much as a finger on Caleb, she’d get it bitten off.

Still, Regan had no wish to turn this into some sort of wolf pissing contest. She so didn’t need that right now. What she needed was to get back to the Council and start the search for Catrin. She stared at Sophie, reached inside herself, allowed wolf to peek out through her eyes and a growl to trickle from her throat. Sophie’s eyes widened, and her gaze dropped away. She took a step back.

Good.

Sophie might be high ranking among Ethan’s pack, but Regan’s wolf was way higher, and they both knew it. Hopefully, Sophie would inform the rest, and this little power play wouldn’t have to be repeated.

Regan forced a smile and held out her hand—who said she couldn’t be gracious when the situation called for it? Sophie took it with a frown of surprise. Then she turned back to Caleb.

“I’ll tell the rest of the pack,” she said. “We’ll see you for the ceremony tomorrow night.” She turned and joined the others, spoke with them briefly, and one by one they slipped away into the night until Regan was standing alone with Caleb.

“Ceremony?” she asked.

“To introduce me to the pack as their new leader. Give anyone who wants to a chance to object.”

“Is that likely?”

He lifted a shoulder. “It doesn’t matter—there’s no one strong enough to be a threat.”

“Good.” She looked at him in the dim light. “Have you slept with her?”

He glanced at her, his eyes widening in surprise. “Who?”

“Your little blond wolf.”

He grinned. “Jealous?”

“Maybe.”

He seemed surprised at her answer, then he shrugged. “I haven’t seen Sophie since I left the pack over twenty years ago.”

The tension drained out of her, and then she realized something. “You didn’t answer the question,” she said, staring at him suspiciously.

He was naked from the waist up, his shirt clenched in his fist. Now he shrugged into it, and she got the distinct impression he was giving himself time to think of an answer. He couldn’t fasten the shirt as he’d ripped the buttons off earlier, and he stood with it hanging open, his hands thrust into his pockets, looking decidedly shifty. Regan fought the urge to go to him, run her hands over his bare chest

“She’s nothing to me,” he said.

“But?”

“We had a thing.”

God, that word again.“A thing?”

“When I was sixteen. Just before I left the pack for good. It was nothing.”

“She obviously doesn’t see it as nothing.”

“My God, youarejealous.”

This time she gave in to the urge, stepped toward him, and pressed her palm against his naked chest. His skin was hot and smooth under her hand. She trailed her fingers down over the lean muscles of his belly, slipped them inside the waistband of his pants, and pulled him closer.

“My wolf didn’t like it,” she said.

His lips curled at the corners. “Your wolf made that very clear.”