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Then Harley jerked her gaze back to my face and widened her smile. “Morning,” she said. “I made breakfast. You’ve got a weird spread in here. Who’s doing the grocery shopping?”

“Not me,” I admitted. Dylan brought me a mug of coffee, and I tousled his hair in thanks. “Morning, kiddo.”

“Not you? Then who?” Harley asked.

“Ah… clan members and other folks in Lakeview bring things around. It’s part of the culture.

It’s an honor to serve the alpha, and all that.

” I shrugged one shoulder. It felt a little ridiculous saying it to someone who didn’t know much about the shifter world, but it was the truth.

I did a lot for the clan, and they did a lot for me in return.

Harley laughed and flipped the pancakes expertly on the stove. “I’m sure there are plenty of women in Lakeview who want to honor you.”

My dragon did not like the sound of that.

She wasn’t wrong. Blakely wasn’t the only one who had dreamed of being mated by the alpha.

But what could I say to Harley? I couldn’t tell her that I’d spent the past ten years trying and failing to connect with other women.

My dragon had pined for her since the day she left.

Since I’d never rejected her, there was no way I could ever fully be with someone else.

But now, it seemed like Harley had moved on and built a life without me.

She’d made it clear this was just for the summer.

I had to prove I could be a good father to Dylan—at least then, I’d get to be in their lives, even if it wasn’t in the way I wanted.

“I’m a little busy for that,” I said. “I’ve got a business meeting this morning, but I’ll be back this afternoon to get some practice in, Dylan.”

“What kind of practice?” Dylan asked around a mouthful of pancake.

“We’ll see,” I said.

Harley raised her eyebrows. “Business?”

“Business,” I said. She wanted more detail, but I wasn’t going to offer it. The less she knew about this situation, the better. “Hawk will be over here while I’m gone.”

“Why?” Harley asked. “You don’t trust us in your big house?” She said it like a tease, but my dragon caught the hint of insecurity beneath it.

“Of course I do,” I said. “It’s a safety precaution.”

She paused briefly, then continued sliding pancakes onto the plate by the stove. “Should I be concerned about safety?”

“No,” I said. “But I generally like to be overprepared. Plus, you know Hawk’s eager to spend time with his nephew.”

“Uncle Hawk’s cool, but he’s not as cool as you, Dad.”

“Make sure you tell him that,” I said with a grin. Pride swelled in my chest. Dylan thinking I was cool ranked right up there with becoming alpha of Lakeview.

“Do not, ” Harley said with a laugh, brandishing her spatula at Dylan.

I took my coffee and headed back upstairs.

As I got dressed, I saw Hawk and Striker pull up.

When I descended the stairs, Harley gave me a little wave from where she was washing the dishes.

She’d put on jeans. I already missed the sight of her bare legs.

I took a step toward the kitchen instinctively, because I wanted to kiss her goodbye—then realized what I was doing and turned away.

“I’ll be back this afternoon. Don’t have too much fun without me. ”

“I won’t!” Dylan shouted from his room.

I blinked. Man, that kid had a set of lungs on him.

Harley laughed.

Fuck, I didn’t want to leave her. But I had to handle this issue with our supplier, so I headed outside, where Striker was waiting next to his inconspicuous SUV. Hawk leaned against his motorcycle and gave me a salute as I passed.

“Everything all right?” Striker asked as I got in the passenger seat.

“Fine,” I said. “Let’s get this over with.”

We drove southwest, away from the mountains, toward Rochester and the Canadian border.

Outside Rochester, Striker pulled off at the familiar custom furniture warehouse.

It was a large, one-story building made of rusted, corrugated steel that advertised custom chairs and desks with faded signage.

The door was locked, but I tapped in my keycode and the lock hummed and opened.

“I hate this place,” Striker muttered as we stepped inside. “Smells like a goddamn hamster cage.”

I snorted. He wasn’t wrong. The inside of the warehouse was dim and smelled like wood shavings. Somewhere in the far back of the warehouse, a buzzsaw whirred. The heels of my boots echoed as I strode across the unfinished concrete floors.

“Michel!” I called into the empty space. “Let’s talk this through. No need for the theatrics.”

“Ah, there you are.” The sawing stopped.

Michel appeared from behind some half-finished cabinets.

He pushed his safety goggles up, revealing his keen, pale eyes.

Michel was a mousy, conniving French Canadian with a lot of connections to gunrunners in South America.

Typically, he gave us no problems—but my dragon had already noted the presence of a half-dozen of his guys scattered around the edges of the warehouse.

And all of them were certainly armed to the teeth.

“So.” Michel dropped the saw unceremoniously to the concrete floor with a clank . “I assume you heard about our little problem with the recent shipment?”

“I did. I want you to know our clan had nothing to do with that. We’ve had a good partnership until now, and you know?—”

Michel waved a hand. “Please, Ace, I know you wouldn’t jerk me around like that. But you know I can’t just let this kind of loss go.”

I grimaced. This was what I was afraid of. The clan had well-stocked coffers, but paying for a loss this large…

“I’m tired of dealing with your asshole brother,” Michel said. “I’m not interested in the money. I want him out of the picture for good this time, Ace.”

Striker gave me a sidelong glance. I crossed my arms over my chest and leveled my gaze at Michel. “For good?”

“Sean and his…” Michel sucked his teeth as he searched for the English word. “ Compatriots are bad news. You know it as well as I do. If we let this happen once, it will keep happening. I can’t let your brother affect my other contracts, especially now.”

“Now?” Striker asked.

“You’re going clean!” Michel threw his arms up as if it was the most irritating thing he’d ever heard. “Word travels fast. I know you’ve been trying to get out of our line of work for a while, but I never thought it’d actually happen. That’s a big loss of revenue for me, Ace.”

“I don’t doubt your ability to find new customers, Michel,” I said.

“That will do me no good if your brother keeps interfering with my shipments.”

I hummed in acknowledgment. He had a point.

“Handle it, and I’ll consider it square,” Michel said.

“And the next shipment?” Striker asked.

“Delayed. But it’s coming. Same price, same expectations, all of that.”

“Good,” I said. “Thank you.” Michel didn’t have to provide us with more weapons, and he was only doing so because of our longstanding relationship. If he hadn’t, we’d really be screwed—we had a few more orders to fulfill before we phased out our side of the gunrunning business.

“Handle Sean before you exit this business,” Michel said. “If you don’t, I’ll be stuck with him, and I won’t have any other option but to involve the feds. It’s too much for one poor middleman to handle.”

I exhaled hard through my nose. “That a threat?”

“No, sir,” Michel said. “It’s honesty. I’m informing you what steps I will take if this isn’t handled. How those steps will affect you is none of my concern.”

Michel surely had enough dirt on me to get me locked up for life. He wouldn’t be able to do so without risking his own freedom as well, but it was still a real possibility.

“It’ll be handled,” I said.

We worked out the details of the upcoming shipment, then Striker and I left. Striker was in good spirits, clearly pleased that we wouldn’t have to pay cash to replace the stolen goods. My mood, however, was lower, and my dragon was on edge.

As we drove back to Lakeview, a sedan with a tinted windshield pulled out of a narrow side road and followed. There wasn’t much out in this part of the state, save for old trailers, farms, and Michel’s furniture warehouse. There definitely weren’t a lot of cars as nice as the one behind us.

“Sean’s playing a dangerous game,” Striker said. “You think he expects to get out of this unscathed?”

“No. I think he’s trying to get a rise out of us.”

Striker huffed. “Well, it’s working.”

“Mm.” I kept my eyes on the rearview mirror, watching the car behind us. Just as I was about to say something, the sedan turned onto a side road and drove out of sight.

I relaxed back into the seat. “I had hoped Sean would come to his senses, or at least leave us alone. But he’s been getting worse.”

“He won’t stop,” Striker said. “Now that he’s had success once, he’s going to keep hitting Michel. Maybe even other suppliers we’ve used. He’s going to try to undermine us from the edges.”

“That won’t happen,” I said coolly. “If Sean is determined to be the enemy, I’ll treat him like one.”

Striker glanced at me. “Even if it means killing him?”

“He’s had enough chances. If we want to get out of this business for good, we can’t let Sean drag us back in.

” And if I wanted Dylan and Harley to return to Lakeview, I had to make sure they wouldn’t be dragged into harm’s way.

If Sean knew about them, he wouldn’t see family—he’d see an opportunity to get back at me.

My dragon growled, his anger matching my own. Blood was meant to connect dragons, but Sean had gone too far. We’d do anything to protect our mate. On that, my dragon and I agreed.