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ORSON

T he journey south to Anchorage took a leisurely flight of less than two hours, compared to a grueling multi-day drive north. Orson was stunned to find that the city looked incredibly urban compared to the wilderness they had traveled through, but also familiar .

It felt like coming home .

He still let Alex drive because, even if it felt like home, he had no idea where anything was. Driving the wrong way on one of the many one-way streets would probably be a terrible idea.

“Should I confront her alone?” Alex asked as she pulled up in front of the office. Orson could tell it wasn’t really a question for him; she was wondering aloud.

“I’m not letting you face a woman who might have tried to kill us without backup,” Orson said firmly. “You might know six ways to break her knees, but I’m a bear and you’re my mate. Also, I want to see her face when she realizes we’re alive.”

She flashed him one of her rare, real smiles. He loved coaxing those from her.

“All you have to do is bluff,” Orson told her. “She doesn’t know that we don’t know for sure that it was her.”

“We don’t know for sure that it was,” Alex said grimly.

“That’s the bluff part!”

They hadn’t made any contact with Sandra or the office employees, or reported the accident officially yet. Surprise was often a powerful advantage.

And it was worth it to see Sandra stand up in alarm when they strolled casually in. All the acting practice from Orson’s first few days paid off, and he kept a cool scowl on his face even though he was secretly delighted by her obvious affront. It hadn’t been such a wild guess.

But Sandra was a good actress too, and she quickly laughed and said, “You never called from Deadhorse! I was beginning to wonder!”

“Did you wonder if we’d run off the road with failed brakes?” Alex suggested dangerously.

Orson caught a whiff of Sandra’s fear, but she did a good job covering it with a smile. “I mean, if you want to be morbid, I guess.”

“We had a nice chat with your friend,” Alex said, casting her bait as she put the tool that had been dropped at Orson’s feet on the counter. “He told us everything.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sandra said, but her skin went pale, and the scent of her fear sharpened.

“He took a plea bargain and gave you up,” Alex said. “We have all the evidence we need.”

Sandra’s eyes flickered doubtfully to the phone on her desk. “He just told me—” She caught herself and snapped her mouth shut. “I want a lawyer.”

It wasn’t enough to convict her, Orson knew. Not yet, it wasn’t.

He leaned over the high counter and could still look down on her standing on the other side. He raised his lips in a threatening snarl. “There might not be enough left of you for a lawyer.”

Sandra looked at Alex, who only regarded her without pity. “Why would you do it, Sandra? What did I ever do to you?”

Orson saw the moment Sandra broke, a wave of anger over her face. “What did you do?” she snapped at Alex. “You took all the glory, all the prestige. It was your face in the paper, your name on the awards. I should have been a partner, and you kept me working as a secretary!” She turned her fury on Orson. “And you, waltzing in with all the privilege and power like you owned the place!”

“I do own the place.” Orson shrugged.

“You were well-paid,” Alex said firmly. “I gave you yearly raises and you had generous benefits and easy hours.”

“But you never promoted me!” Sandra shouted, well and truly past caution now. “I should have had your office and your easy life!”

“Easy life?” Alex protested. “You think I had an easy life working sixty hours a week, on call at every moment, doing most of your work for you while I handled everything else, too? You didn’t deserve a promotion.”

“And you deserved to die!”

Everyone in the office froze, including the guards who had come in from the back at the sound of the commotion.

Even if they didn’t get the office security tape, now they had witnesses.

Sandra realized it at the same time Orson and Alex did, and she gave a cry and dove for a desk drawer. A gun flashed in her hand, but Orson was over the counter before the guards could even move, knocking it away from her and wrestling her down.

“Don’t hurt her,” Alex commanded dispassionately.

Orson let the guards restrain Sandra as Alex called the police, taking professional charge of the situation with respectable calm.

It wasn’t until the police had taken their full statements, downloaded the camera footage, marched Sandra away for processing, and they were completely alone in Orson’s office that Alex let herself relax. Orson took her into his arms and felt her sag against him.

“I didn’t want it to be true,” she confessed into his chest.

“Who would? You thought she was your friend, and she was betraying you at every turn. I’m so sorry, Alex. I’m so sorry.”

Orson rocked her comfortingly, and she held him tight.

She was his strong, gorgeous, capable mate, and he treasured the rare moments that she turned to him for support beyond any dragon’s hoard.

“We still haven’t decided what my job here will be,” Orson reminded her. “I’m available for…hm…special services, and I noticed that this office door has a lock.”

To his delight, she laughed and let him go. “Well,” she reminded me, “I have an opening for a secretary now.”