Head Hunter (City Shifters the Pack #3) - Layla Nash Page 0,6

use the two empty lots for him. Obviously it must be secure, so he can’t escape.”

Lawson’s eyebrows arched. “You want to keep a wolf in something the size of two lots? What kind of wolf is he?”

Deirdre hesitated and Evershaw frowned, so Dodge leaned forward, elbows balanced on his knees. “Gray wolf. Big. But he’s just a teddy bear at heart.”

He grinned, showing all his teeth, since it was the least apt description for Silas he’d ever used. He and Silas had fought their way across two continents, and neither one of them had much cuddliness about them. Not that the architect needed to know that.

“A t-teddy bear?” Lawson looked at each of them in turn. “May I ask how you came to... own this wolf?”

“Family friend,” Dodge said before either of the alphas could answer. He liked having the architect’s attention on him, even in brief glances and comments. It was ridiculous, of course, since the architect was unlikely to have anything to do with a bastard like him. She just seemed like a... challenge. “Silas has had a tough couple of months, so it would be nice to see him somewhere comfortable.”

“A family friend,” she repeated, testing the words like she didn’t believe him. Well, Dodge wouldn’t have believed him, either. “S-Silas? The wolf’s name is Silas?”

Deirdre poured more tea and studied some of the designs that Lawson brought with her. “Mmm. Yes. Dodge has been looking after Silas for us. They’re practically best friends.”

“Best friends,” Lawson repeated weakly. “Of course. He sounds like quite the friend.”

Dodge didn’t know if she meant him or the wolf, but either way, he didn’t mind. Dodge leaned back in his chair and studied her, tried to memorize the way one long curl had worked loose from her demure bun and trailed against her throat.

“Very,” Deirdre said. She handed the designs back to Lawson and tilted her head toward the kitchen. “Why don’t I show you the lots, and we can walk through what’s possible?”

The architect cleared her throat. “The fee...”

The witch smiled and patted Evershaw’s shoulder as she walked past, holding Lawson’s wrist to drag her along in her wake. “Miles will pay it, don’t you worry. We’re confident you’re the right habitat specialist for our project. If you agree, of course.”

Deirdre and Lawson kept talking as they disappeared into the kitchen and out the back door, Cricket trotting along at their heels. Which left Evershaw and Dodge sitting in the living room.

Evershaw pinched the bridge of his nose. “I get a bad feeling about this, man. She’s human. She doesn’t know anything about this shit. And why the fuck are we going to treat Silas like some animal who has to be stuck in a cage?”

“You’re not supposed to call it a cage anymore,” Dodge muttered. He frowned at the spot on the couch that the architect had occupied. He caught a whiff of her perfume and wondered where she’d gotten it. Who’d selected it for her, maybe given it to her as a gift. Some boyfriend, maybe, or her parents as a graduation gift. He had no idea how that shit worked for girls. His First Sergeant when he joined the Marines told him he’d get his ass kicked if he wore cologne, so that was the lesson that stuck with him. “It’s a habitat. And we have to treat him that way because that’s what he is. At least for now.”

The alpha grunted. “Fucking bullshit.”

“Yeah. But he can’t stay in the storm cellar forever.”

It wasn’t fair to Silas, for one, to remain in the cellar. Plus Deirdre wanted her basement back. Something about storing herbs and things from the garden, and how having a man-sized half-wolf stalking around and shitting in the corner wasn’t “a conducive environment” to whatever her magical bullshit required.

None of Deirdre’s magic had made a difference in turning Silas back into something other than a monster, stuck between human and animal. And she hadn’t convinced the alpha that Silas was back in his right, human mind regardless of what his form looked like. It was simply too dangerous to let him go free or roam about the packhouse. His madness could have influenced some of the younger wolves, the ones with less control. In a pack full of misfits, the last thing they needed was everyone turning out-of-control.

Which was why Dodge should have stayed at the factory, where those young and influential wolves lived. No one fucked around when Dodge was there. He didn’t

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