Page 49 of Clashing With The Grumpy Wolf

All eyes turn to her. My wolf rises immediately, hackles raised at the very suggestion of putting her in danger.

"Absolutely not," I growl, the words coming out harsher than intended.

Julia straightens her spine, lifting her chin in that stubborn gesture I've come to recognize.

"I can pose as a pixie artifact collector. I'm small enough to pass for one with the right clothes and makeup."

"It makes sense," Seraphina adds, surprising me with her support. "Pixies are seen as less threatening than other species. The seller might be more comfortable meeting with her. They won’t be as suspicious if they know they’ll only meet with a pixie."

"No," I state flatly, my wolf so close to the surface I can feel my eyes beginning to glow. "I'm not putting Julia in danger."

"I'll be perfectly safe," Julia counters, moving to stand directly in front of me. "You and your deputies can set up surveillance from a distance. I just need to get the seller to bring the tiara to the meeting."

"And when they realize it's a trap?" I demand. "What happens then?"

"They won't get close enough to harm me," Julia insists. "Not with you watching."

Percy clears his throat.

"The dragons of both clans will be present as well. No one would dare make a move with that much firepower nearby."

Julia's eyes lock with mine in a silent battle of wills. I see determination there, but also something else. Trust. She trusts me to keep her safe.

My wolf growls, torn between pride in her courage and the primal need to shield her from all harm. The room falls silent as everyone watches our wordless exchange.

Finally, I exhale slowly.

"Fine. But we do this my way. You wear a wire. Chemko sets up full surveillance. I stay within direct eyesight at all times."

Relief washes over Julia's face.

"Thank you."

"And the first sign of trouble, you're out," I add firmly. "No heroics."

"No heroics," she agrees, her lips curving into a slight smile that makes my heart stutter.

Chemko clears his throat, drawing our attention back to the laptop.

"Silverine’s hacker set me up so I could create a buyer profile with a believable history of previous purchases."

"Do it," I instruct, moving behind my desk to watch as he works.

His fingers fly across the keyboard, creating an online identity complete with transaction history and reviews from other sellers.

“Now all we need to do is place a bid high enough to get the seller's attention.” He turns to me. “But we’ll need to send proof of funds before the meet. There’s no way the police department can get its hands on that kind of money.”

“I can,” Seraphina says with a flat tone. “I won’t be the matriarch who loses the tiara. I’ll get my grandmother to release the funds to send the proof.”

“Okay then.” Chemko turns to look at the bids already pouring in. “The bid is at two million right now. How much do you want to bid?”

“Five,” Seraphina says like she’s ordering fast food and not betting five million dollars on a sting operation. For a long moment, the room remains quiet.

Then Chemko places the bid, the mind-numbing number flashing green on the screen. This is enough to beat any other offer, for sure.

"Now we wait," I say. “And no matter what happens, none of this leaves this room. We already know that the thief is someone close and with access to the tiara. The only way we have even the slightest chance at catching that thief is if we keep everything on a need-to-know basis, and as far as I’m concerned, everyone who needs to know is in this room right now.”

We all exchange long, hard looks. Then one after the other, we each nod.