Nash
“If King’s took her mate, he’s dead,” Jericho stated flatly. “King’s doesn’t take prisoners. It’s too messy.”
Eudora stood up from behind her desk. She really was quite short for a werewolf, an alpha one at that. As she walked around the desk she let her fingers trail over the leaves of some of the plants until she came and stood in front of my chair. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jericho circle around the other side. He seemed to be keeping his distance, giving his mate space, but staying close enough so that he could rip my head off if I made a wrong move.
“I wonder, Nash Turner, why do you care about this bear-shifter’s mate?”
“I don’t,” I said, perhaps too quickly. And I didn’t, not really. He was nothing more than a grainy picture to me. He didn’t even seem like
