I meant to ask more about why he was our best bet, but she hung up. I was left with the attachment on the email. With a sigh, I clicked it open.
Absolute gibberish was laid out on the screen in front of me.
“Maybe everyoneshouldlearn to break codes,” I muttered.
I hit the button to forward the email to Dash, because as hard as he’d tried to get us all in on the cipher lessons, he was the only one who’d taken them.
He sent me an email back with only a single thumbs up, and I wandered into the living room to wait. Ambrose was there, sitting on the couch with his head in his hands. There was a show playing on the TV, but no one was watching. The volume was turned up loud to tune out some of Kiara’s cries.
No TV could stop him from feeling her, though.
Maybe it was best that she’d never claimed me like she’d claimed them. I’m not sure how I would have handled feeling my bondmate in pain. I’d had enough of a hard time being in the pack bond with Dash when he was spiralling—and I loved him like a brother.
Not like a lover.
“Liberty had something,” I said, sitting down on the couch beside Ambrose. “It’s not legible, so I sent it to Dash, but apparently it involves dealing with Soren.”
Ambrose growled low in his throat. “Soren’s had his hands in this the whole fucking time, and he hasn’t done anything good. Why would he start now?”
“I don’t know, but Liberty seemed confident. She’s our best bet, unless something else comes through.”
“He’s a rich asshole.”
If we had to see Soren, Ambrose absolutely should not come. I’d never dealt with the eccentric billionaire before, but I knew how he worked. You insulted him, and he would give you nothing.
I scooted closer, putting a hand on Ambrose’s back. Rubbing slow circles, I tried to figure out how to comfort him. I loved Ambrose, but I was a fixer—not the one to go to for emotional comforts. Especially not with this. We may have made up after a year apart, but I was struggling to understand his relationship with Kiara and Leighton.
My own relationships with them were baffling enough.
“So is Dash,” I said, trying for a joke. “They can speak each other’s languages.”
Ambrose barely cracked a smile, but he did pick his head up from his hands and look at me. “I have to stay with her, baby. I can’t leave her while she’s like this.”
“I know.”
I wanted to tell Ambrose my theory about Kiara and the nest, but I knew it wouldn’t do any good. He’d gain no comfort from it. Not the way I did.
“Dash and I will go when he figures it out.”
“And you’re staying with me until then.”
“I should—”
He cut off any complaint, hauling me onto his lap. “Whatever you’re doing to save her, you can do it from right here. I need you.”
My heart jumped. It was nice to be needed after a year of distance. Ambrose was right, too. I was only trying to find a way to get the police involved. All my research could be done on my phone.
I stayed in his arms, and he seemed to appreciate my occasional rumbling purrs.
A lot of time passed before Dash came out of the office, but by the grin on his face it may have been worth it. He waved a pile of papers in the air.
“Soren is going to do whatever we fucking say,” he proclaimed.
I raised an eyebrow, reaching out for the papers he’d brought. As I skimmed through them, a faint hope began to bubble up.
Dash was right.
* * *
