Page 15 of Honey Heat (Sin & Steel #9)

A feeling he was still getting used to.

Suero set a serving tray on the polished wood and began to fill it with glasses of soda.

A sudden hush fell over the tavern as the front door swung open.

Matias Salvador entered, his presence commanding attention without a single word spoken.

Tall and broad-shouldered, the alpha moved with predatory grace, his dark eyes scanning the room.

Behind him, Elijah followed then took off toward the kitchen, wearing a goofy grin.

Matias made his way to the center of the room, pack members parting before him like water around stone. When he reached the middle, he turned slowly, ensuring every eye was on him.

“Earlier today,” Matias began, his voice carrying effortlessly through the silent room, “I received a call from Mrs. Hernandez, who lives on County Road 8. “She was looking out her kitchen window when Chopper was shot. She saw the whole thing.”

The room remained silent, everyone hanging on to his words. Lucio felt his grip tighten around his glass.

Matias’s gaze swept the room. “The shooter was Deputy Gilmore.”

The tavern erupted into snarls and curses. Chairs scraped against the floor as several wolves stood, eyes flashing amber. The scent of rage filled the air, thick enough to taste.

Matias raised a hand, and immediately the snarls subsided to a tense silence.

Lucio exchanged glances with Suero, whose knuckles had gone white around his beer bottle. Raphael’s face had darkened, a muscle jumping in his jaw.

“Chopper’s condition?” Hernán called from the back.

“Stable,” Matias replied. “Martinez says he’ll recover, but it was close. Too close.”

Lucio agreed. He’d visited the brother a few times, but Chopper had yet to regain consciousness.

Lucio stood, feeling every eye in the room turn to him.

“There’s more,” he said, loud enough for everyone to hear.

“My mate was held captive and tortured for information about the bear clan’s territory.

He overheard his captors talking about harvesting biological material from different shifter species. ”

Murmurs rippled through the crowd as Lucio continued. “They’re developing something, possibly a serum to enhance hyena abilities or to sell to the highest bidder.”

“And the man in the suit?” Matias asked, his expression revealing nothing.

“Ethan confirmed he’d seen the man from the security footage,” Lucio replied. “He seemed to be in charge, observing everything.”

The pack exchanged worried glances, the implications sinking in. Targeting shifters for their biological traits meant none of them were safe.

“So they’re hunting us for parts,” Suero growled. “Like we’re fucking lab rats.”

“They went from trying to trap our beasts inside of us to trying to steal them,” Santiago said with disgust.

Lucio glanced at Diablo, but the wolf’s expression was unreadable.

“Luca.” Matias nodded toward the mechanic. “You have something to add?”

“We already know Gilmore is working with the hyenas. The same ones who tried to kill me and threatened Darcy. This isn’t a coincidence. It’s a coordinated attack.”

Murmurs of agreement rippled through the crowd. The air grew heavy with tension as everyone waited for Matias’s response.

When their alpha spoke again, his voice was quiet but carried a deadly edge that made Lucio’s wolf stand at attention.

“For years, I’ve maintained a policy of non-interference with local law enforcement,” Matias said. “Even the corrupt ones. It kept the peace, avoided unnecessary attention.”

He paused, his gaze hardening.

“That ends today. Deputy Gilmore willfully and with malice attempted to murder one of our own. He’s working with those who tortured Ethan McCade and threatened others under my protection.”

The silence in the room was absolute now, every wolf sensing the shift in their alpha’s stance.

“I am rescinding my order to leave the corrupt cops of Blackthorn untouched,” Matias declared. “Be discreet, but understand they are no longer under my protection. If Gilmore and his associates want a war with the Salvador pack, we will give them one they won’t survive.”

A collective growl of approval rumbled through the tavern. Lucio felt his wolf rise to the surface, eager for justice, for vengeance.

“Our priority is identifying and locating the man in the suit,” Matias continued. “Lucio, I want you working with Raphael on this. Use every resource we have.”

“Already on it,” Lucio confirmed, thinking of the security footage he’d recovered.

“The rest of you, keep your eyes open. Travel in pairs. Watch for hyenas or suspicious police activity.” Matias’s gaze swept the room once more. “And if you encounter Gilmore... make him regret his choices.”

* * * *

Awareness returned in small, painful bursts. Beeping machines pulled Chopper toward consciousness, while an antiseptic smell burned his nostrils. His eyelids felt weighted with lead as he struggled to lift them.

When he finally managed to crack them open, light stabbed his pupils.

Chopper squinted, trying to adjust to the light.

When he could manage to keep them open, he glanced around, the blurry shapes slowly coming into focus.

Why was he at the clinic? Turning his head, he spotted Santiago sitting beside the bed, his attention glued to his phone.

“What’s going on?” Chopper’s voice came out as a raspy croak. “Why am I at the clinic?”

Santiago’s head snapped up. “About fucking time you decided to rejoin us.” He pocketed his phone and leaned forward. “How you feeling, hermano ?”

Chopper tried to shift positions, but fire lanced through his midsection. He hissed, glancing down to find thick bandages wrapped around his torso. “Like absolute shit. What the hell happened to me?”

Had he laid down his bike? Gotten hit by a truck? Fallen into an open manhole? Got wasted and lost a fight? Searching his memory, he got nothing.

Santiago reached for a cup of water, helping Chopper take a sip before answering. “Deputy Gilmore shot you. In broad daylight, right on County Road 8.”

Chopper still had to be dreaming because there was no way he’d heard Santiago correctly. “Shot me? Gilmore?”

The deputy’s name triggered something in his brain, flashes of memory trying to surface—sunlight glinting off a metal, his saddlebag, a blue sky. The images slipped away before he could fully grasp them. “I was on my bike... I stopped for something...”

His mind felt foggy, the memories fragmented and scattered. Something important nagged at him. Something he needed to remember. He closed his eyes, concentrating harder.

A high-pitched whine. Tiny paws scratching at leather.

Chopper’s eyes flew open. “The puppy! Where is she?” He tried to sit up, ignoring the searing pain that tore through his abdomen. “There was a puppy in my saddlebag. Little white thing with brown patches.”

Santiago pressed him back against the pillows. “Easy, man. You’re gonna tear your stitches. The puppy’s fine. Cesar’s got her.”

“I need to see her.” Chopper’s chest constricted as the heart monitor began to beep faster. “Now, Santiago! I need to make sure she’s okay.”

“ Mierda . Calm down.” Santiago pulled out his phone. “I’ll text Cesar to bring her over. Just stop trying to get up before Martinez puts you in restraints.”

Chopper sank back against the pillows, breathing heavily through the pain. Why did he care so much about a puppy he’d only had for less than an hour? It made no sense, but the need to see her, to make sure she was safe, consumed him completely.

Time stretched as they waited, Chopper growing more agitated with each passing minute. His fingers gripped the sheets, the wall clock counting the seconds, while Santiago watched him with growing concern.

Finally, the door opened. Cesar walked in carrying a small bundle of fur. The puppy’s ears perked up when she spotted Chopper, her tiny body wiggling with excitement as she whined and pawed at the air.

Chopper’s throat grew tight, and he desperately wanted to hold her.

“The damnedest thing,” Cesar said while approaching the bed. “She wouldn’t eat until I brought your bloody jacket for her to sleep on.”

Because the smell of his blood was more potent than his scent on the jacket.

“Give her to me.” Chopper swallowed.

Cesar carefully placed the puppy on Chopper’s lap. She immediately scrambled up his body, tail wagging frantically, trying to lick his face. Chopper scooped her up with gentle hands and cradled her against his chest.

“Hey there, lobita ,” he murmured. “You okay?”

The puppy responded by licking his chin frantically, her whole body trembling with excitement. Something warm and unfamiliar bloomed in Chopper’s chest as he cradled the tiny creature.

“She’s fine,” Cesar said. “The pack’s been helping me look after her until—”

A growl ripped from Chopper’s throat when Cesar reached for her. His canines lengthened as he pulled her away from outstretched hands.

“The fuck?” Cesar stepped back, hands raised. “Easy, hermano .”

Chopper felt his eyes glowing amber, his wolf rising to the surface with unexpected fierceness.

The puppy whimpered at his sudden aggression, trying to burrow into the crook of his arm. Her frightened reaction snapped Chopper back to himself, shame hitting him as he realized he’d scared her.

“Shit,” he whispered, gently stroking her fur. “I’m sorry, pequena . I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Dr. Martinez stepped into the room, glancing between them. “Glad to see you’re awake, Chopper. If I’d known a puppy would wake you up, I would’ve plopped one on your lap right after your surgery.”

“He’s having a weird reaction to the meds, Doc,” Santiago said, jutting his chin toward Chopper. “He’s aggressively guarding the pup.”

Dr. Martinez checked Chopper’s vitals. “It’s not the meds. His wolf trauma-bonded with the puppy. You’re not getting her back anytime soon.”

The guy was talking as if Chopper wasn’t even in the room, but that explained his reaction to not having her with him. It also explained why he was ready to end Cesar for trying to take her from him.

“But—” Cesar began.

“Trust me on this one,” Martinez interrupted. “I’ve seen it before. The wolf has chosen to protect her. Fighting that instinct won’t end well for anyone.”

Chopper barely registered their conversation, focused entirely on soothing the puppy, who had calmed in his arms. Her tiny heart raced against his palm, gradually slowing as she settled.

“ Que se joda .” Cesar sighed in resignation. “I’ll bring some supplies by. Food, a small bed, and some toys.”

“Thanks,” Chopper murmured, not looking up from the puppy now sprawled across his chest, her warm weight comforting against his skin. Then he glanced up at the doctor. “Why can’t I remember what happened to me?”

Cesar frowned. “You don’t remember getting shot?”

“Your brain’s protecting itself,” Martinez explained. “Trauma can cause temporary memory gaps. They might come back, they might not.”

Chopper stroked the puppy’s soft fur, feeling her little body relax against him. “ Lobita ,” he murmured, the name coming naturally to his lips.

Her ears twitched at the sound, and she yawned, her tiny pink tongue curling before she settled more comfortably on his chest. The contact eased something in Chopper, the pain medication finally taking effect as drowsiness began to pull at him.

As his eyes grew heavy, he heard Cesar sigh in resignation.

“Guess I need to find Jamie another birthday gift,” he said quietly to Santiago. “Can’t bring myself to take her away from him. Not after seeing that.”

Chopper’s last conscious thought before sleep claimed him was that his Lobita needed a proper collar. Something pink, to match the inside of her ears. He’d get her one as soon as Martinez let him out of this damn bed.

Sleep tugged him under, his hand still resting protectively over the tiny puppy on his chest.