Page 27 of Black Moon

Zeke lifted a brow at the angst-filled young man, clearly dubious, but I turned and looked at him. “What happened?”

I had no doubt Skye wouldn’t do anything bad on purpose, but he was young, and naive, and frankly, a bit of a gossip, so it wouldn’t be too shocking if he, oh, started a fight or something.

“So, I was talking to Colt. And he’s, like, nice, you know? So it was super easy. And then he asked me about the Morgans, but not like he was really asking, more like he already knew and he was being all sympathetic and stuff, but I guess he probably didn’t really know anything, since he was surprised when I said—” He broke off, biting his lip for a second before starting again with, “and then he said—” But he finished with a squeak instead of words, so that didn’t help terribly much.

I could imagine what Skye had said—that wasn’t hard. He’d told Colt about Brook’s disappearance, and how it related to my father’s death, and all the pack’s current issues. I should have expected him to tell the guy about it when I’d put them together in my office, and that was on me.

What Colt had said in response, on the other hand...that, I couldn’t guess.

“He said what, Skye?” I asked, keeping my voice even and low, without any extra tension. Sure, he’d done a thing that wasn’t great, telling an outsider about pack problems, but it wasn’t like he’d planned to do it. I didn’t even know if it affected our plans.

Somehow, Skye paled even more—a feat for a man who rarely spent time in the sun. “He said he’s going to write a story about it.”

“Fuck,” Zeke said, and I winced. He wasn’t wrong, but it didn’t help to make Skye feel bad.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

“It’s fine, Skye.” I took his hands in mine and squeezed them. “I’ll go talk to him, and we’ll figure something out, okay?”

“But if the Reids see an article in the damnedWashington Postabout themselves—” Zeke growled, and I took a hand off Skye’s and held it up to stop him.

“I’ll handle it,” I promised. “Colt is a good guy. He’s not going to deliberately put Brook in danger. I’ll fix it.” I glanced around the bar, but I didn’t see him anywhere. Dammit, he must have left already.

“I think he went to his motel to work,” Skye whispered. “He, um, he said he was staying out there. At the motel.”

Since there was only one motel anywhere near Grovetown, that was all I needed to know. I gave his hands another squeeze, and nodded reassuringly. “I’ll handle it. Promise.”

Skye didn’t stop looking like he was going to burst into tears at any moment, but as much as I wanted to, I couldn’t stay and help with that. I had to go talk to Colt. I turned to Zeke instead. There was no way he could give the comfort Skye needed. “Zeke, take Skye over to sit with Birch, would you? Let him know what’s up?”

Zeke nodded, and I left with at least that laid to rest. Birch would handle Skye’s stress.

I didn’t know who the hell was going to handle mine, because I wasn’t doing a great job of it. It wasn’t often that I cursed being an unbonded alpha, but today was one of those days.

* * *

The motel was a simple, quiet spot. It wasn’t as fancy or nice as the B and B, but it made up for that in privacy. The B and B was in the middle of town, and it was run by the two sisters in charge of the knitting circle, Greta and Hazel, elderly betas who might be even bigger gossips than Skye.

I would never admit it to anyone, but if I needed to pick one, I’d have picked the motel.

Yes, I had at least three sweaters in my closet from Greta and Hazel, but my appreciation for their craft didn’t mean I had to like them listening in on conversations and relating them to the rest of the circle for entertainment. Especially not if I was about to have a conversation like the one I needed to have with Colt.

It wasn’t hard to pick out his car—not because I’d ever seen it, but because there was one car in the lot that didn’t belong to the owner. It was parked right in front of room number ten, so I didn’t bother asking at the office, just went and knocked on the door.

Sure enough, a few seconds later, Colt answered.

Somehow, he looked even more beautiful than he had in my office. Slightly flushed, lips parted, pupils wide—hell, he looked almost like he’d been, um—

I blushed and looked away. “Skye was concerned, and I thought I should talk to you.”

“Oh?” Colt asked, leaning his long, lithe body against the door frame. His smirk should have annoyed me, but the only feeling he was inspiring was distinctly below the belt. Dammit.

“Look, I get it, okay? You’re doing your job. Get the news out, no matter the cost.” My jaw tried to lock up just thinking about it, and I wanted to hit someone. Preferably Maxim Reid, the alpha of the Reid pack.

Oddly enough, Colt’s languid calm vanished. “Cost? What do you mean?”

I looked around. There was no one obviously listening in, but we were a pack of werewolves. It was best to be careful. “Can I come in?”

He narrowed his eyes, looking me over for a moment before deciding that either he could handle me in a fight, or I wasn’t a threat to begin with. The latter was certainly true. I would never intentionally hurt someone who wasn’t hurting my pack.

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