The two men remain quiet, but I feel their eyes on me as I pick through the wreckage. Finally, I find what I’m looking for. One of the main support beams.

The wood is cracked near in half. If that happened just because of weight, there’d be splintering at the fracture.

But the break is clean.

“Someone cut this.” I offer the wood for their examination.

“Fuck,” Donovan mutters.

Even in the dim light, I can see the rigid set to Abram’s entire face.

“You think someone tried to hurt Zoey on purpose?” he asks.

My hands clench on air, wanting to tear into something just at the thought. “I don’t know. But I’m not seeing any other reason for someone to take a saw to the tree house.”

The three of us search through the rest of the wood pieces, finding another with similar cuts. We bring them back to the house with us and relate the findings to the other Gunner boys.

“So, we talk to the cops, right?”

I nod. But the gesture is only meant to placate them. The cops in this town are either useless or they’re wolves. If this was some trouble between humans, then the cops would have to handle it.

But Zoey is mine. That makes this wolf business.

Roderick is the one who needs to be informed. He’s the one who will help me hunt down whoever is out to hurt the woman I love.

Let the Gunners go to the cops if it makes them feel better. The human police are good for handing out speeding tickets or breaking up a brawl at a bar. There’s not a detective among them. The wolves on the force are smarter, but they’ll soon know this is pack business and keep it off the books.

Whoever has been tormenting my mate will answer to a different set of laws.

Abram, who’s planning his trip to the station the next morning, cuts off his words abruptly when the bedroom door creaks open.

Zoey wanders out, her eyes heavy with sleep, hair an adorable mess around her bruised face. She takes in our gathering, eyebrows curving up when she finds the five of us examining her.

The oldest Gunner is the first to speak. “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Are you bleeding? What do you need?”

She twists her lips in a smirk before answering, “I need to pee. Do you all want to help me with that?”

Abram clears his throat, a red flush spreading over his cheeks. “Do you need help?”

Zoey leans against the wall, staring at her older brother. Then, suddenly, like the sunrise has come early, a smile splits across her face, threatening to blind us all.