Page 77 of To Challenge a Wolf

Vivian’s cool hands—one on the back of his neck, the other on his forehead. Holding his head up. He needed her touch again. But she was gone because he was a stupid, unworthy wolf. And a glitching machine.

April and Kelsey took the two open chairs. Malachi remained standing, his arms folded across his chest. Trevor hopped up on the porch railing and swung his feet.

“Rhett,” April said, “you look really ill.”

“No,” he said. “Just too hot.”

She nodded. Then she got up and disappeared into the house. He couldn’t understand why, but he couldn’t understand much right now beyond…My mate.

“I asked Trevor and Kelsey to come for a second opinion,” Malachi said, his rasp low and gritty. “I want you to speak freely, Rhett, as you have to me in the past. About your past.”

He tried to let out a scornful growl, but instead a choking whine escaped. “You think my brain’s melting right now because of my past?”

“I do, friend. Will you talk to us?”

The shriveled pit in his chest gave a throb. He propped his head in one hand, covering his eyes. “What do you want, Malachi?”

The same question he’d asked Vivian over and over, refusing to hear her answer.

And as if fate truly were involved in Rhett’s life, Malachi said the familiar words. “Just honesty.”

“Fine. Guess what, Trevor and Kelsey, I was trained to kill from a pup. Trained by wolves and vampires, and they weren’t gentle about it.”

Kelsey’s soft hum of sorrow increased the throbbing. He couldn’t take sympathy right now. He tried to growl, but the only sound that came was a low groan.

“Trevor,” Malachi said, “is his condition familiar to you?”

“No.” Trevor’s voice and scent held utter certainty. “Fever, sure, but I was flat on my back. First few days I could hardly get to the bathroom, and the last few days not even that. Rhett, is your stomach sick at all?”

“No,” Rhett said.

“Yeah, whatever’s wrong with him, it’s different.”

“All right.” Malachi gave a heavy sigh. “Thank you.”

“So we can’t help, Mal?” Kelsey said.

“Trevor’s confirmation is helpful. It’s what I suspected, but I needed his first-hand knowledge to be sure.”

“Well, now that you know…” Her voice fell. “We can go, Rhett, if that’s what you want.”

Yes. Definitely. Go away. “If you actually want to stay, knowing what I am, you’re welcome to.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Relief lifted Kelsey’s scent as though she truly cared about him. This too made his nonexistent heart squeeze. His screen door opened and shut, and then April was pressing into his hand a snack baggie filled with ice, wrapped in a soft washcloth.

“Here, Rhett, this should help.”

“Thanks, April.”

He settled the cold pack on the back of his neck. It wasn’t Vivian’s hand, but April was right. The unbearable fire in his brain cooled enough for him to think, to manage the squeezing in his chest and everything trying to bubble out of him from his very guts. After a minute, he looked up. All four of them studied him.

“I never took a life,” he said. “My father sent me on two missions. Kill missions. I fled the first time, and he and I both thought it was a fluke, that I just needed to get my nerve up. But the second time, I didn’t run. I could’ve done it. I chose not to. Told him he’d wasted ten years of training, that I wouldn’t be his hit man. He tried to kill me, which was stupid of him. He knew how well I was trained.”

“But you didn’t kill him,” Kelsey said.

“Nah. I knocked him out, got my go-bag, left him a note.”

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