Page 12 of Anders (The Sunburst Pack #2)

Any other wolf would have responded to such a display by either challenging or submitting. It was instinct, hardwired into their very being.

But Etta’s reaction was something else entirely.

Pure terror flooded her scent, sharp and acidic, burning his nostrils. Her eyes widened in naked horror. Her heartbeat, already elevated, skyrocketed to dangerous levels. The blood drained from her face.

This wasn’t the reaction of a trained operative maintaining cover.

This was primal, bone-deep fear.

Oh my god, she whispered, her voice barely audible. You’re… You’re…

Her knees buckled, and she slid down the wall until she was sitting, her body trembling violently. Anders watched in growing confusion as she wrapped her arms around herself, rocking slightly.

Not real, she muttered. Not real, not real, not real…

For the first time since he’d entered the basement, uncertainty crept into Anders’s assessment.

The scenario he’d constructed—Etta as a skilled infiltrator—didn’t match the genuine terror she was displaying. No operative was this good at faking fear responses. Not the dilated pupils, not the cold sweat beading on her skin, not the way her breath came in short, panicked gasps.

Something was very, very wrong here.

Understanding dawned, horrifying in its implications.

She genuinely hadn’t known.

Anders shifted back quickly, ignoring the vulnerability of his naked state as he grabbed his pants and pulled them on. Etta made a small, choked sound at his transformation, pressing herself harder against the wall as if trying to disappear into it.

Etta, he said, keeping his voice gentle now. I won’t hurt you.

She shook her head wildly, her hair whipping around her face. Not possible, she gasped. People don’t… They can’t…

Somehow, despite being a shifter herself—and Anders was certain of that now, having caught her full scent during his shift—she truly hadn’t known what he was. What she was.

The surveillance equipment. The mark on her neck. Her compulsive documentation alongside her apparent ignorance.

Malcolm’s suggestion from the dinner rushed back to him: Chemical suppression, maybe? There are rumors about research facilities experimenting with ways to control shifters.

And Sarah’s addition: When Vincent was alpha. There was a wolf who came to check on the security systems. He had a similar mark. I only saw it once, when he bent down to fix some wiring.

Not a spy. A victim.

Shit .

Anders felt his wolf whine in distress, pushing at him to comfort their mate. But the damage had been done. He’d taken a vulnerable, traumatized shifter and confirmed her worst fears in the most terrifying way possible.

Etta, he tried again, crouching to appear less threatening. I’m sorry. I didn’t understand.

Her eyes, wild with fear, finally focused on him.

What are you? she demanded, her voice cracking.

Anders weighed his options. She’d seen him shift. There was no going back, no erasing that knowledge.

Maybe the truth could help her piece together her own fractured past.

I’m a wolf shifter, he said simply. Like you.

Her face contorted. I’m not… I’m human.

You’re not, Anders said gently. You’ve never questioned why you can smell things others can’t? Hear conversations from impossible distances? Why your eyes reflect light differently?

Etta shook her head in denial, but he could see the doubt creeping in.

The mark on your neck, Anders continued carefully. It’s not natural. Someone put it there. The same people who made you forget what you are.

A tear slid down her cheek. The memories, she whispered. I saw… I remembered…

Anders’s heart clenched. What did you remember, Etta?

She looked up at him, raw pain in her eyes. My parents. My real parents. They were killed. Men came, and they… They took me somewhere. A lab. Her voice broke. They did things to me.

Anders moved closer, slowly, giving her every chance to pull away. When she didn’t, he reached out, his fingers stopping just short of touching her.

I’m sorry, he said, the words wholly inadequate for the horror she’d endured. I’m sorry I frightened you. I thought you were someone else—someone who meant my pack harm.

Pack, she repeated, the word clearly resonating with something inside her. Her breathing had steadied somewhat, though fear still drenched her scent. Like a wolf pack.

Anders nodded. Yes. We’re a community. A family. We protect each other.

Etta’s hands twisted in her lap. And I’m…?

Like us, Anders said. Though, I think someone has gone to great lengths to hide that. Even from you.

She closed her eyes, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. I thought I was going crazy, she whispered. Hearing things. Smelling things. Writing notes I didn’t remember writing.

Anders’s protective instincts surged. Someone had done this to her—suppressed her nature, used her as an unwitting tool.

And he had a sinking feeling he might know why.

The newspaper gives you access, he said, thinking aloud. You interview everyone. Document everything. But you don’t know you’re doing it.

Etta’s eyes flew open. What?

I found surveillance equipment around town, Anders explained. Not mine. Someone is watching. Using you to gather information.

Her face crumpled as the implications hit her.

I’m not a spy, she whispered. Then she shook her head. I didn’t know.

Unable to resist any longer, Anders closed the distance between them, wrapping his arms around her trembling form. She stiffened momentarily, then collapsed against his chest.

I’m going to find out who did this to you.

Whoever had done this to Etta was sophisticated, patient, and dangerous. They’d taken a wolf shifter—a creature of instinct and freedom—and turned her into an unwitting tool.

The level of technology and cruelty required was staggering.

And if they’d done it to her, they could have done it to others.

The implications for pack security were severe. And for Etta too.

Whatever came next, he decided—whoever had hurt her—someone would pay.

Anders would make sure of it.