Page 92 of Deadly Wolf Bite

“Come in,” she says. “We’ll sit out back and have some lemonade.”

I shake my head. My mother. Approaching life or death with lemonade. “Got anything stronger?” I ask as I follow her inside.

She leads the way through the living room and into the kitchen, where memories assault me. This place was my safe haven once. A refuge my mother would escape to when my father became too violent or mean. When I was young, she would bring me with her, and we’d spend weeks here swimming in the lake or playing board games. Then, I got old enough to be trained in the family business and my father put his foot down.

She stopped bringing me.

I started accompanying him instead—seeing what he was like with his pack. When she complained that I was becoming too much like him, he blew up. And I saw what he was like with her.

I’m glad she spends so much time here. That she’s found somewhere that brings her a shred of peace. But I’m starting to wonder if it’s too late for me. Maybe I’m just like my father, after all. A monster willing to destroy anyone who gets in his way. Destined for an empty marriage.

“Here.” My mom sets a bottle of brandy on the counter.

My brows lift. “That’s not exactly strong.”

“Well, it’s all I’ve got.”

She grabs an empty glass and heads for the back door. I grab the brandy and follow her outside. There’s a small table and chairs on the patio. A pitcher of lemonade and a half-full glass are already on it. My mother sits, gesturing to the empty chair across from her.

I sit and watch as she pours my cup half-full of lemonade. When she holds it out, I take it but don’t bother with the brandy as I drain the contents. For a moment, we sit in silence. I listen to the birds and cicadas, hating how cheerful it sounds. Like nature can’t be bothered with the fact that my entire world has shattered.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Mom asks.

I bite back a refusal. Talking about it won’t change anything, but I can’t think of anything else to do. Hell, it’s why I drove out here in the first place. So, I shove the words out as quickly as possible. Rip off the Band-Aid.

“Lexi’s been spying on me for Franco.”

My mother falters then sets her lemonade down. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

She studies me. “I see. And you’re angry.”

Temper leaks out, making my words harsher than I intend. “Of course I’m angry. She betrayed me.”

“Did she say why?”

I frown. “What?”

“When you asked her about it, did she say why she did it? Was she forced?”

“She’s not a wolf who can be compelled.” I don’t bother to point out that I haven’t actually spoken to Lexi about that particular detail. Haven’t really spoken to her at all.

“She’s a human in a world full of beasts, Grey. She can be threatened—or worse.”

I scowl. “I would’ve protected her. She knows that.”

She’s silent for a moment, and I can’t help feeling defensive at the way she’s reacting to this. Like she’s on Lexi’s side.

“Ramsey admitted he’s been doing the same thing,” I tell her, needing a reaction that isn’t empathy. “He says he’s the one who sent those men to the estate last year.” Her eyes flash with fear, there and gone quickly. “He almost got you killed.”

“Did he say why he did it?” she asks.

“What does it matter?” I snap then take a deep breath. No part of me wants to take this out on her. “He put you in danger. Why didn’t you tell me you’d been attacked?”

“Because it wasn’t important by the time you came home.”

“Your safety’s always important to me,” I say stubbornly.

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