Page 18 of Midnight Moon
“At this time, all proposed prizes for each competing pack have been approved. That concludes the opening ceremony—"
“I believe you are forgetting about us,” a smoky timbre floated to my ears, originating in the back of the room.
Recognition jolted through me, followed by a swift wave of disbelief.
It couldn’t be…
As one, the room turned to identify the newcomer. I was slower to do so, unsure if I wanted to truly know whether I was right or wrong about who had arrived.
When my eyes landed on the man at the door, my heart lodged in my throat and a gasp escaped my lips.
There, flanked by Chase, was none other than the man who’d been haunting my thoughts for the past twenty-four hours.
Asher.
Five
Asher.
I wasn’t proud of how long it took me to believe he was there. Half of me thought he was an illusion conjured by my mind, but no—it was really him.
Asher stood with arms crossed over his muscular chest, staring at Alpha Kurt with an air of authority I’d become familiar with at the Iron Horse. He’d traded his button-down for a form-fitting, black t-shirt. Dark blue jeans were tucked into black combat boots. A five o’clock shadow still covered his jaw, but his brown hair was neatly styled into place.
My pulse continued to pound as I began to make sense of what was happening.
Asher was a shifter. So was Chase.
Neither of them would be on shifter territory otherwise. It was impossible for a human to pass through the protective wards surrounding pack lands. But I didn’t remember scenting either of them last night.
In fact, I know I hadn’t.
When one shifter neared another, scenting was an autonomic response—it was like a survival instinct. In our less-evolved past, shifters would hunt down and destroy any shifter whose scent didn’t belong to their pack. It was our way of protecting our own.
Now, shifter communities weren’t so driven by our baser instincts, but they were still there.
And neither Chase nor Asher had smelled like a shifter in Denver. Of that, I was certain.
I glanced at Chase, surprised to find his gaze already on me. His expression spoke of remorse.
Was that directed at me?
Had he known what I was?
I shook my head, feeling like an idiot.
Of course, he knew what I was.
Just because I didn’t scent them, didn’t mean they didn’t scent me. Asher and Chase had to know I was a shifter. Stephanie, too.
But how had we missed the truth about them?
I ran through everything I remembered from last night.
Asher had started off by being an ass, then his demeanor changed out of the blue. That must’ve been when he realized I was a shifter.
I remembered how Asher heard me insult him from halfway across the bar. Only shifters had such good hearing—well, shiftersandvampires. But the blood sucking race wouldn’t dare encroach on shifter territory, and my pack’s territory covered all of Colorado.
No, Asher wasn’t a vampire. His skin was too tan for him to be a member of a race who avoided the sun. Besides, he’d said he was from Alaska. The Wilds Pack would never let a vampire into their territory…
