Page 13 of Hidden

He’d had rough missions before this. He’d been captured before. He’d get out of trouble, like he always did.

Come home, his father, the Devries Alpha, had said. The words came first in a text message and then by phone when Rafe ignored them. The pack needs you. I need you. We’re losing our people. Soon, there won’t be enough strong wolves to hunt.

It was the first time his father had ever asked him for help. Hell, it was the first time he’d hinted Rafe might be worth something. Until then, it had been plain neither of them saw Rafe as anything but a misfit. He’d been trouble, a fighter, challenging every rule until he’d finally run away to the Silent Wolves, a shifter-run group of special operatives.

But he was still pack, and he’d finally agreed. Maybe, after all, it was possible to come home and make a life within the pack. Maybe, just maybe—if he could find the Magician and tear out his throat. That was a trophy not even his father could deny.

Rafe began circling the room, examining every inch of the bare, blank walls. There was no furniture, no fixtures, not even a bucket. The only exit beyond the actual door was a floor drain with minuscule holes. A garter snake might get out that way, but not a wolf.

He jumped when a series of beeps broke the silence, then a motor hummed. The top half of the door slid sideways into the wall, revealing a set of heavy vertical bars. On the other side of the bars stood the female fae, a furrow between her pale brows.

He’d pegged the male fae as the ringleader, but the level look in the female’s eyes said she was no pushover. So did the confident set of her shoulders. She was arrogant, like all the fae.

Anger rose. She’d knocked him out cold. He could still feel a strange numbness in his limbs.

Beneath his temper, the icy hand of fear fingered the spot between his shoulder blades. A wolf could face bullets, but magic was something else. He couldn’t bite a spell.

Rafe drew himself up and folded his arms, pretending a nonchalance he didn’t feel. He had a thousand questions—about Izetta, about his own fate—but he knew better than to blurt them out. He would let the fae show her cards first. “Is there something I can do for you?”

“Who are you?” she asked, her voice tight.

“Rafe.” He took a slow step closer, studying her features. The delicate, slanting arch of her brows. The gentle point of her ears, all but hidden by her thick white-gold hair. Despite all that had happened, her beauty still drew him, but that meant nothing. She’d proven she was dangerous. “And who are you?”

“I’m the one asking the questions.”

“Your companion called you Lila. Is that your name?”

She ignored his query. “Why did you come to this house, Rafe?”

The sound of his name on her lips sounded strange. She was an immortal creature of enchantment, not an earthbound beast like him. He was practical, a warrior, and that meant boundaries, discipline, and sticking with facts.

He didn’t have time to answer before she leaned closer, spots of color staining her cheeks. “What makes you think you can harm my brother and live?”

Her brother? Not her mate? Either way, the creature had left a foul taste in his mouth. Rafe met the fae’s eyes and glared right back. “He struck first.”

The moment in the kitchen had been simple. The brother lashed out. Izetta flailed like a storm-tossed crow, smashing to the floor. Instinct demanded Rafe protect his own, so he’d bitten the fool.

The crunch of bone still lingered like a vibration inside his skull.

“I’m sure he’ll get over it,” Rafe said with a shrug.

Her eyes widened, as if seeing all the ways she would destroy him. If she hadn’t proven so capable, he might have been amused.

“Fae are immortal, not indestructible,” she said softly. “You’re a monster.”

Rafe’s pulse jumped. So that bite had put one enemy on the sidelines. Lila—if that was indeed her name—had made a beginner’s mistake by letting him know that. A real Alpha would have kept that to themselves. She was dangerous, but she was an amateur in the chess match of power.

“So, are you in charge now?” he asked.

Her chin jutted forward. “I’m the problem in front of you. Concentrate on that.”

Now that was a good answer, one he might have used. “So you are.”

“Just tell me why you’re here.” She folded her arms, mirroring his stance.“The whole world knows better than to encroach on the fae. Why put yourself at our mercy?”

“I have my reasons.”

“Are you a thief?”

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