I turn my gaze back to her and release a sigh. “Don’t worry about it right now. It could be worse.” Her eyes flicker between mine. “You could be a Werewolf.”
Brice growls, but it pulls a small smile from my pink-haired girl. Her smiling is fine—no one else is allowed to though, not in my presence.
Coming to my full height, I eye Alaric. “Tell me everything.”
He crosses his arm, his white shirt, nearly as pale as his skin, stretches in protest against his muscles. “After we got you and Sydni back here, I went to your place. They were gone, but that’s no surprise.”
I swallow, forcing myself not to let the revelation hurt. There was no part of me that truly believed she would still be there, even if I desperately wished she had been.
“Achille is dead,” Brice adds.
“What?!” My shock is apparent, and as though out of instinct, I step away from the couch. How? Why? My loyalty to him died already, but with his death comes Marcos—no,Lars, taking up his position as head of Sidence.
My gaze shiftsto the Werewolf, who has taken the seat right next to Sydni. My protective instinct surges through me, and I itch to grab and hurl him as far from her as I can.
Except, there’s no need because Sydni’s got herself covered.
With all the force she can muster, she punches Brice square in the jaw. I step back to give her room to stand, her shoulders raised as she screams, “Get the fuck away from me. Now that Rhyse is awake, do not touch me. Do not even LOOK at me!”
She comes around behind me—I’m not sure if she’s hiding or just separating herself from him—but regardless, I’m proud of her. The look on Brice’s face is that of shock, but a flicker of understanding crosses it.
“Sydni, please listen?—”
“Youusedme to get closer to her!” Her back presses against mine and I can hear her soft sobs. “Fuck you, Brice! You’re a piece of shit! You lied to me!”
My gaze lowers as I watch him rub his jaw, and I’m seconds away from ripping his head from his shoulders. But I need answers before I act too rashly.
“I didn’t… lie to you,” he grumbles.
“You told me you were a fucking Shifter! That’s a lie! You lied about so much!”
Please, don’t tell me you slept with him, Syd…My head’s throbbing with the thought.
“You assumed based on a comment about?—”
“Enough!” I snap. “So, Achille is dead…” This conversation needs to continue or we will waste more time. “What else?”
It isn’t Brice that answers, but instead, Alaric. “The blame is on you for his murder, along with the deaths of Clay and the twins. They are saying you worked with Xeraphine to kill some of the highest-ranking officers in the Ansford Shifter Hause, but they aren’t officially commenting. Unfortunately, it isn’t just you they’ve hung out to dry.”
He doesn’t need to point behind me because I already knowwhoelse he was alluding to. A furious growl strums out of my throat.
“Tyson is also dead,” he adds.
My eyes widen, and I barely manage to turn before Sydni drops to her knees. Her body trembles violently, her scream tearing through the air.
I didn’thatehim, and although his relationship with Xeraphine irked me—as would any man being around her—I knew he wouldn’t have dared touch what was mine. His death will hurt my girl, even if just a fragment, and thatalone angers me.
“Why him?” I ask, while gently soothing Sydni, stroking the back of her head.
“Hard to say,” Niyla says while coming around the couch. “He was dead before they attacked you. My guess is if your car hadn’t fallen victim to their trap, they would have ambushed you at his place when you went to drop Sydni off.”
Syd then screams out, “Assholes! They took my Phiny! They killed Tyson! Why?! Why are they doing this?!” I know she doesn’t mean to hurt me, but when she slams her fist into my chest, I can’t help but grimace. I’ll need to help her adjust to what she’s become, and quickly. Because as much as I care about her, finding Xera is top priority.
Turning my head while gripping her to my chest, I hiss, “Who are you, Alaric?”
He looks over at Niyla, then to Brice, then back at me. “I was the detective on Xeraphine’s case when she first went missing.” My eyes go in and out of a blur. “Call me obsessed”—I’m going to fucking kill him— “but when I got wind she was here, I came looking for her. Her case was never closed, and?—”
I’m standing in front of him before he can finish that sentence, my hand around his neck and finding the nearest wall to bash him into. “Bullshit!” The distain in my tone isn’t easily missed. “Because why do you have a fucking posse with you?!”
