Page 61 of Clashing With The Grumpy Wolf

"Sprained ankle," Percy repeats. "But she'll be well enough for tomorrow's rehearsal dinner. Dragons heal quickly."

"And Seraphina?" Julia's fingers tighten slightly around mine, a gesture I feel both physically and through our new bond, her worry pulsing into me.

"Shaken," Percy admits. "But determined. That's one thing about dragon women—once they set their minds to something, not even fire can deter them."

Julia nods, some of the tension leaving her shoulders.

"Good. I should call her later, see if there's anything I can do to help."

An awkward silence falls over us. I can feel the weight of what I need to discuss with Percy pressing down on me, but I'm reluctant to expose Julia to what might become an ugly confrontation.

"Julia," I say gently, "would you mind giving us a minute? Percy and I need to discuss the investigation."

She glances between us, intelligent eyes picking up the undercurrent of tension. Through our bond, I feel her curiosity but also her willingness to give me space.

"Of course." She squeezes my hand once before releasing it. "I'll make some tea."

Once Julia has left the room, Percy's expression hardens.

"What is it, Adrian? I can smell the suspicion on you."

I move to my laptop, opening it and pulling up the security footage I flagged before. I turn the screen toward Percy, showing him the frozen image of Kraxon approaching Silverine's office just before the theft.

"Your brother told my deputy he was in Portland the day the tiara was stolen," I say, watching Percy's face carefully. "But this footage shows him at the manor at the exact time of the theft."

Percy stares at the screen, his expression unreadable.

"So? He misspoke about his whereabouts. That doesn't make him a thief."

"It makes him a liar," I counter, leaning forward. "And now we have a fire that conveniently destroyed all the security equipment."

Percy's scales darken, a sign of rising anger in dragons.

"What are you implying, Sheriff?"

"I'm not implying anything. I'm stating facts." I keep my voice level, professional. "Kraxon lied about where he was when the tiara disappeared. He's in serious financial trouble due to that scandal at his law firm. The tiara is worth millions."

Percy stands abruptly, his wings half-extending in the confined space of my office, knocking a lamp from a side table. Heat radiates from his skin as his control slips.

"My brother would never betray me this way," he growls, smoke curling from his nostrils. "Never."

"The evidence—"

"This isn’t what it looks like," Percy cuts me off. "Kraxon is working to clear his name in that scandal. He has nothing to gain from stealing the tiara."

I rise to meet him, unwilling to be silenced by a misplaced sense of dragon loyalty. If his brother is the thief, then Percy needs to listen to reason.

"Then why lie to my deputy? Why say he was in Portland when he was clearly at the manor?"

Percy's jaw tightens, flames flickering briefly at the corners of his mouth before he forces them back.

"Because he's working as an informant with the Portland police to trap a dirty associate. He gave your deputy a false statement because he couldn't reveal his real whereabouts without compromising that investigation."

This is news to me. But it doesn’t mean it’s true.

"Can you verify that?"

"Call the Portland PD if you don't believe me," Percy challenges. "He's working to clear his name and his firm's reputation. He would never jeopardize that by stealing from his own clan."