Page 70 of The Wolfing Hour

Yuck. The wolf on the ground had rotated on his belly and was now facing the same direction as his cohorts. I inched back.

Miles moved closer to me, his gaze locked on the wolves. “What’s wrong with them?”

The wolves began to howl. A soft whine that went from the lowest ranges of the vocal register to the highest in seconds. It sounded like a dirge, a funereal song.

“They’re sad,” I said.

Miles ripped his gaze from the wolves and turned to me. “What curse did you place upon them, demon?”

“Curse? Hey, I don’t even knowhowto curse someone into being a maudlin zombie. Sure, I made that wolf sit, but that was all soil magic. I didn’t do anything to the others except verbally shame them for being dumbasses.” I frowned at him. “I thought you were doing it.”

He shook his head. Looked back at the wolves. “No, I am certain it’s your doing. I’m here to force you to tell me where you’re hiding Mason Hartman, and you’re retaliating by making them incapable of rational thought with demon magic.”

Ick. “Oh, I hope not. That’s a power I wouldn’t want to have.”

Miles scowled at me. “Why not? You demons love to strip beings of their souls and force them into reanimation to do your evil bidding.”

I looked at him. “You’re so fucking weird.”

“Weird?” His glowing white forehead creased again. Gods, he was creepy.

“Why would I want their souls? I have my own.” I made a shooing motion, showing him I was finished with that line of conversation. “Can we please focus on whatever the heck it is your minions here are doing?”

He appeared to take umbrage at this. “I am paranormal. I do not have minions. That’s your territory, demon.”

“I wish. Honestly, I could use the help. Lots of irons in the fire at the moment,” I said.

The wolves howled again, this one even sadder.

“Why are theymourning?” Miles whispered to himself.

Maybe it was the head damage or perhaps the numerous distractions, but until Miles said that, I’d forgotten what Ronan had been up to in his apartment.

Aurora.

That had to be it. For some reason, the wolves were picking up on Ronan’s emotions and mourning Aurora.

I wasn’t traditionally religious, but I sent a supplication to the goddesses that it wasn’t because she was dead. Ronan wouldn’t be able to stand it. He’d pick off every godsdamned alpha wolf in the Pallás pack in a violent rage or die trying.

“Oh my goddess, I’m going to be the best cuñada ever. Just you wait and see. I’ve always wanted a sister.”

And I’d be right there beside him.

The door at the top of the stairs swung open. Ronan’s fully shifted wolf sprang over the railing on the top landing and landed on the toes of Miles’s dress shoes.

Like,onthe man’s toes.

Miles pressed his lips together. He looked like he wanted to scream. Tears trickled from the corner of his eyes and dribbled down the sides of his face.

Ronan snarled.

The muscles in Miles’s jaw twitched as he worked to keep his mouth shut.

Ronan showed his teeth. His landing hadn’t been accidental. Had he wanted to, he could’ve landed on Miles’s head and crushed it like a melon under a car tire.

This had been a show of power.

See how precise I can be? If I choose to put power behind my surgical accuracy, I can rip your heart from your chest. You’ll be dead before the first pump of blood squirts from the wound.