soul to have the right to call her either one of those two words.
“I still can’t make heads or tails of his study,” he said, going to shove his hair back only to realize he was still gloved. That hand, when he paused it midmove, held the finest tremor. Yeah, it wasn’t getting any easier to ignore the violent pull inside him when it came to Garnet. “It’s all math stuff. I don’t think it was disturbed—he was so neat, any search would be obvious.”
“Russ’s been tutoring a couple of grad students.” Closing the drawer she’d been examining, Garnet got to her feet with a grace that seemed more akin to the cats than to a wolf. She’d always been like that, lithe and fluid and beautiful in motion.
“Once we’ve confirmed the sequence of events,” she said, “I’ll have the students help Athena go through the study.”
Folding his arms, Kenji leaned against the doorjamb. “You think she’ll want to?”
“Love’s a hard beast to slay,” Garnet murmured, her eyes on the holes in the walls. “Athena came to me a month ago, wanted to make sure Russ was all right.” A faint, sad smile. “Two people can’t live together for a decade and forget each other in a heartbeat.”
Kenji wondered if he’d have been strong enough to walk away from Garnet had they already been a couple. The answer was a visceral hell, no. He’d have been selfish, held on to her with bleeding and broken fingers if need be . . . and he’d have watched her slowly realize what it meant to be with him.
It would’ve killed him.
“Kitchen’s the only place left,” Garnet said on the heels of the silent sucker punch of his thoughts.
Not trusting himself to speak, he followed her to the small kitchen in back of the apartment. It was spic-and-span. Neatly set out on the counter was the lonely tableau they’d noted in their first sweep: one cup, one plate, a pair of utensils.
“Sad,” Kenji murmured.
Garnet’s mouth was bracketed by white lines on either side as she shook her head. “He could’ve chosen to eat with packmates at any time.”
Kenji wanted to rub those lines away with his thumb, tell her this wasn’t her fault. “Yeah.” The only time Kenji ate on his own was when he was so exhausted he just wanted to bolt down a meal and crash—or during the rare times when he felt like being alone. Otherwise, he ate in one of the communal break rooms. That was every packmate’s right, paid for by SnowDancer’s various business profits and investments.
The pack had made that decision in the aftermath of the Territorial Wars, at a time when the wild game had long since migrated to areas without war. SnowDancer had survived the wars with enough members to remain a pack, but it had also absorbed members from other more devastated groups. Those people had become pack under a searing mountain sky, and together, they’d created a charter that held to this day.
Part of that charter was that no pack member would ever go hungry in pack lands.
Too many of the survivors had known hunger.
However, ask any wolf and that wolf would tell you it wasn’t only about the food, but about togetherness, about being a pack. Kenji’s bonds with his packmates had been sealed into stone over years of meals taken together, hundreds of times when he’d casually taken charge of making sure a small pup ate properly or the occasional time when he’d laughingly participated in a food fight.
Couples and families usually had more meals on their own than single wolves, but even then, the balance was weighted toward being with pack, using the time to catch up and connect. As a child, Kenji had eaten with Garnet’s family more than once and he hadn’t been the only nonfamily member at the table.
“I guess Russ either liked eating alone,” Kenji said, “or wanted to wallow in self-pity.” He shrugged, feeling more than a twinge of sympathy for his dead packmate. “He’d been dumped, then seen his ex hook up with a younger man—big hit for anyone.” The male ego could be a fragile thing. “And from what you’ve said, I don’t think he’d have seen it coming.”
“You’re right.” Garnet walked around the kitchen, checking cabinets and drawers once again. “He’d probably have made it out given enough time.”
Kenji saw the tension bunch across her shoulders, but he wasn’t prepared for her to turn around and slam her hands down on the