Mordoc—the Hind’s captain?
“I will rip out your throat,” Sabine growled, stepping closer. But Bryce saw it—the glimmer of surprise. Doubt. He’d thrown Sabine off her game a little with that volley.
Again, Ithan didn’t lower his eyes. “He’s here in this city. Are you going to see him? Take him to the Black Dock to bid farewell to his daughter?”
Bryce’s stomach dropped, but she kept her face neutral. Danika had never said. Had always claimed it was a …
A male not worth knowing or remembering.
Bryce had assumed it was some lesser wolf, some male too submissive to keep Sabine’s interest, and Sabine had refused to let Danika see him because of it. Even when Danika had known the truth of Bryce’s parentage, she’d never told Bryce about her own lineage. The thought burned like acid.
Sabine spat, “I know what you’re trying to do, Holstrom, and it won’t work.”
Ithan flexed his broad chest. Bryce had seen that same intense expression while facing off against opponents on the sunball field. Ithan had usually been the one to walk away from the encounter. And he’d always walked away if a teammate joined in the fight.
So Bryce stepped up. Said to Sabine, “Was Danika a rebel?”
Sabine whipped her head to her. “What?”
Bryce kept her shoulders back, head high. She outranked Sabine in position and power now, she reminded herself. “Did Danika have contact with the Ophion rebels?”
Sabine backed away. Just one step. “Why would you ever ask that?”
Ithan ignored the question and countered, “Was it because of Mordoc? She was so disgusted by him that she helped the rebels to spite him?”
Bryce shoved from the other side, “Maybe she did it out of disgust for you, too.”
Sabine backed away one more step. Predator turning into prey. She snarled, “You’re both delusional.”
“Is that so?” Bryce asked, and then took a stab in the dark. “I’m not the one who ran all the way here to make sure Ithan and I weren’t plotting some kind of wolf-coup against you.”
Sabine bristled. Bryce pushed, getting no small delight out of it, “That’s the fear, right? That I’m going to use my fancy princess title to get Holstrom to replace you somehow? I mean, you’ve got no heir beyond Amelie right now. And Ithan’s as dominant as she is. But I don’t think the Den likes Amelie—or you, for that matter—nearly as much as they love him.”
Ithan blinked at her in surprise. But Bryce smiled at Sabine, who’d gone stone-faced as she snarled, “Stay out of wolf business.”
Bryce taunted, “I wonder how hard it would be to convince the Prime and the Den that Ithan is the bright future of the Valbaran wolves—”
“Bryce,” Ithan warned. Had he truly never considered such a thing?
Sabine’s hand drifted to something at her back, and Ruhn aimed his gun. “Nah,” Bryce’s brother said, smiling wickedly. “I don’t think so.”
A familiar ripple of charged air filled the room a moment before Hunt said, “Neither do I,” and appeared in the doorway so silently Bryce knew he’d crept up. Relief nearly buckled her knees as Hunt stepped into the apartment, gun pointed at the back of Sabine’s head. “You’re going to leave, and never fucking bother us again.”
Sabine seethed, “Allow me to give you a bit of advice. You tangle with Mordoc, and you’ll get what’s coming to you. Ask him about Danika and see what he does to get answers out of you.”
Ithan’s teeth flashed. “Get out, Sabine.”
“You don’t give me orders.”
The wolves faced off: one young and brokenhearted, the other in her prime—and heartless. Could someone like Ithan, if he wanted it, ever win in a battle for dominance?
But then another figure stepped into the apartment behind Hunt.
Baxian. The angel shifter had a gun drawn, aimed at Sabine’s legs to disable her if she tried to run.
Only a glimmer of surprise on Hunt’s face told Bryce this wasn’t a planned appearance.
Sabine turned slowly. Recognition flared in her eyes. And something like fear.
Baxian’s teeth gleamed in a feral grin. “Hello, Sabine.”
Sabine simmered with rage, but hissed, “You’re all carrion,” and stormed from the apartment.
“You all right?” Hunt asked Bryce as he looked her over. The redness around her throat was fading before his eyes.
Bryce scowled. “I could have done without being hurled into the side of the couch.”