Into Their Woods (The Eerie, #1)(53)

“We were going to run, and like Dillon said, we overheard her talking to Zara about it, so we were being a little, I guess you could say, nosey,” he continues, embarrassment pinking his cheeks.

“And did you run?” Fife asks, stepping forward because Ellery looks ready to breathe fire.

Brooks dives into the conversation. “No. We planned on it, but I tweaked my back at work earlier—my team’s been renovating the old Aradia property. I thought I’d be fine, but when I went to shift, I threw it all the way out, and there was no way we could run,” he explains, leveling an apologetic look at his denmates. They both pat him reassuringly on the shoulder and back, and wave off his obvious chagrin.

“Bummer. You missed out on snagging Poodle here. She’s stuck with Ellery’s den now,” Karen says just before she takes a bite of her muffin.

“Tragedy,” Bucky jokes, but the Sullivan den goes stiff.

His comment feels like a dig at the den, but I’m not familiar enough with eerie dynamics to be sure. The angry glint in some of their eyes tells me I’m on the right track though. There must be some kind of history I don’t understand, because unlike the Bianchi den, these guys don’t seem so bad. Or maybe I’m just overthinking things, sensing insults where there are none because the cringey nature of this whole interview is invading my brain.

“I guess congrats are in order,” Brooks rasps, nodding at Ellery.

The sheriff gives a stiff nod of acknowledgement before turning his eyes to me. Fuck. The possessive look he gives me should be illegal. It’s the kind of look that makes women agree to all sorts of stupid things. Sure, you can handcuff me. Whips and chains? Sounds fun.

I drop my gaze to my muffin before my lower belly catches fire, because the last thing I want to be caught doing with an audience is eye-fucking the sheriff. Well, with this audience anyway. Karen is definitely the type to never let me live that down.

“Did you see the healer? For your back, I mean? Must have been bad if it wasn’t healing on its own,” Bucky asks before Ellery can muster up another question.

“Yeah, Imogen came by. It was better later that night,” Brooks answers.

Ellery writes something down on his pad, and from here I can just make out the words, check alibi and Imogen.

“Did you three notice anyone else in the diner who seemed interested in Noah? Anyone outside who might have been watching her when you left?” Fife inquires.

Dillon shrugs. “There were other dens there fueling up like we were, the McNeals and the Evanoras. I got the impression that they were curious too. I mean, she’s pretty and new, so that’s to be expected, ya know,” he explains, dropping his gaze and scratching at his arm.

“Anyone outside when you left?” Ellery asks again.

“Not that we noticed, but we weren’t exactly on the lookout,” Hank offers sheepishly.

“What’s this all about, sir?” Dillon demands, sitting up straighter and studying everyone more sharply. “Did someone hurt you?” he asks angrily, his intense stare suddenly trained on me.

“Someone stole Noah’s car,” Ellery starts.

“And threw the poor naif into the Hunt,” Fife adds. Ellery levels him with a glare.

Come the fuck on, Fife. He definitely shouldn’t have said that. Even I know better. But my reaction is nothing compared to the Sullivan den’s.

“Oh shit,” Dillon exclaims at the same time Brooks asks, “Naif?” Their muscles grow tight with anger, and each member radiates outrage.

“Don’t you dare wolf out in here,” Karen orders, scooting sideways along the wall like she doesn’t want wolf germs.

The red crystals on the table strobe brighter, and the Sullivan den winces.

“That’s…that’s fucked-up,” Dillon growls. “What are we doing?” he demands, as though the need to take immediate action is riding him hard.

My eyes sting with sudden emotion at their response.

Is this what Alpha Morgan meant about pack? People who will have your back and fight for you no matter what, all because you’re one of them?

Ellery, Ruger, Perth, and Gannon were all furious on my behalf too, but I figured that was thanks to the mate claim. I mean, what happened to me directly affected them too. They’re stuck with some woman who doesn’t know jack-shit about their world or even if she wants a mate, so they’d obviously have feelings about that. But to see perfect strangers enraged over what was done to me…well, it’s surprisingly touching.

“Interviewing the dens that were hanging around that night, and chasing any other leads that come up,” Karen answers, and Dillon’s brows dip in thought.

“You’re just interviewing dens?” he questions, looking around the room.

“Yeah, for now,” Karen tells him.

“Well, isn’t that a little sexist?” he asks. “I mean, it was a Hunt night, and yeah, that means the dens were out in force. But so were the lone wolves who were running. Most lone shifters are women, right?”

“Yes…” Ellery’s brow furrows.

“What if a woman who was set to run backed out at the last second? What if she didn’t really want to or was being pressured into it, so she tossed someone into her cape to take her place, stole a car, and hightailed it out of town… You’re looking for a den, but maybe you should be looking for a she-wolf.”