Chapter 9
I had forgotten how quickly werewolves could move. Before I had opened my mouth to reply, Chase was hustling Keith down the corridor out of danger and Wolfie had taken the beta’s place by my side. And despite my mixed feelings about Wolfie, I was glad to have the backup because Milo, not I, had been the terror when we were kids. My cousin had been one of those boys who enjoyed tearing wings off butterflies, and now he looked like the adult version of that aggressive child—dark suit, glistening leather shoes, and the bulge of a g*n under his dress jacket all adding to the image of a mob enforcer. Or, more likely, the Chief’s enforcer.
I could feel the hackles of both male wolves rise as they eyed each other, even though they were still clothed in their human skin. “Wolf Young, p
