If she thought she could flip that up and pull her Glock before a werewolf could leap, she was dreaming. I made a mental note to give her some speed drills later.

Nathaniel collected himself and his voice was gentle as he addressed my sister.

“Forgive me,” he said. “I did not mean to scare you.”

She swallowed and nodded. They stared at each other for a fraught moment and then Nathaniel turned to me. “Please follow me.”

He led us back out the front of the house and gestured for us to get into the black SUV in the driveway. The back of my neck itched. The werewolves were clearly keeping a close eye on us while we were with their alpha.

I sat in the front. It was only a few days until the full moon, and I had a feeling Nathaniel would find it more difficult to control his wolf if he knew I was heavily armed and sitting behind him. The flicker of gratitude in the alpha’s eyes told me he appreciated it.

Nathaniel was famed for his control. He’d managed to clean up the Triangle and stop a pack of rampaging werewolves within a couple of weeks. But something was making it difficult for him to keep that control.

We drove deeper into the forest, passing the occasional house. Most of the pack lived out here, and I gawked at the huge homes.

“Wow,” I said.

“Werewolves like a lot of space,” Nathaniel murmured.

“It’s beautiful out here,” Evie said, gazing out the window. Nathaniel gave her a hint of a smile in the rearview mirror. Then his face went blank as we rounded a corner, and a steel building came into view.

Evie was pale as we got out of the car. “This is our morgue,” Nathaniel said. “Would you like to stay in the car?”

She shook her head, and he didn’t linger on the subject, leading us through the front doors. The woman working at the front desk nodded at him and he nodded back, taking us through double doors.

His nostrils flared and I shuddered. I could already smell far too much. This place must be hell with a werewolf’s nose.

The corridor we entered was white. White walls, white floor, and steel doors. Nathaniel stopped at the first door and raised his hand to the ward. It briefly glowed green, and the door swung open.

I shivered as we stepped into the temperature-controlled room. The smell of morgues always made my stomach roil— antiseptic and the sickly-sweet scent of death. I glanced at Evie. Her face was ashen, but she narrowed her eyes at me. She’d followed her intuition here, and she was determined to see it through.

Fair enough.