Page 66 of Protect Me

I give him a look. “She’s under your skin, isn’t she?”

He snorts. “I thought it was obvious by now. She’s all I fucking think about anymore. And if that weren’t enough, we’re keeping secrets from D—for her.”

“It’s not just about sex, is it?”

He sighs.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” I ask, forcing my lion to chill out. Now that he knows Duncan is in, my lion wants to claim her right this second.

He wants her for the three of us, though, and that’s not something I can guarantee my brothers want too.

“She’s dangerous,” he says quietly.

“You’re scared of her?” I can’t keep the judgment out of my tone, but he shoots me an irritated glare.

“Not like that, dumbass.” He looks out at the tree line again, both of us still alert despite our intense conversation. “I’ve never felt like this for anyone else.”

“I’m glad to hear you admit it,” I say.

“Shut up.”

“I’m serious. I know you, Dunc, which means I can see you care about her. And I can see you fighting it.”

“Old habits die hard.”

“She’s different,” I tell him.

He eyes me. “That’s the problem.”

My mouth quirks at that because I know exactly what he means.

“Tell you what,” I say, “why don’t you go give her a wake-up call, and I’ll finish your shift.”

He shakes his head. “Nah. You go.”

“Dunc, just give in already.”

“I’m working on it,” he says irritably. “I—”

We each pick up the scent at the same moment.

I go still, my lion assessing the intruder.

“One,” I say, “North wall.”

“I’m going in straight,” he says, his body already shuddering with the oncoming shift. “You circle in from the west.”

“Got it.”

I shift a second behind him and take off at a run. My massive paws eat up the ground, and my mouth waters with anticipation of biting off whatever fucking head I find trying to worm its way into my world.

It takes me all of three seconds longer than Duncan to reach the asshole trying to sneak across our line. By then, Duncan has tackled him to the ground and elicited a yell that quickly becomes a moan of pain as Duncan’s front paws slice his shirt and chest wide open.

“Dammit, that fucking hurts,” the man moans.

Even in the darkness, I can see the Crimson Hunter tattoo printed on his arm.

I ignore his screams, scanning to make sure there aren’t more of them out here.

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