Graeson’s snarl reverberated through my bones. “Mine.”

The warg’s expression slipped, confusion knitting his brow until he leaned forward and inhaled. His eyes widened in recognition. “Agent Ellis.” The sound of my name ramped up Graeson’s anger. The warg held his hands up, palms out, and started walking backward until the beta calmed. “Call if you need anything.” He was looking at Graeson when he said it, not in the eyes, but at chest level, a height that wouldn’t instigate a challenge for dominance, but a wary inflection in his voice convinced me he was talking to me.

“Leave us,” Graeson grumbled then turned on his heel, not waiting to see if the other warg obeyed him, before walking into the shelter of the pines where he sat with me on his lap. Unseen hands wrapped a blanket around my shoulders. Stuck flush to him as I was, it made a heavy cocoon for us.

I rested my face against his neck, each breath drawing in the comforting scent of his skin. As my nerves calmed, prickles coasted down my limbs. His arms held me tight while my body juddered, and I lost my grip on Lori. Panting through the cocktail of panic, fear and hurt, I swallowed hard and pushed against his chest.

“I should…” Stand up, walk away, ask questions, anything but sit there and let him hold me like he cared I had almost died. The kelpie was dead. I had to touch the beast to confirm the magical signature before the wargs polished off the corpse. I shoved away from him, toes brushing the ground, but then Dell was there, and she put her hand on my shoulder.

“Stay.” The pressure of her fingers was enough to coax me back against Graeson. “His wolf needs to accept you’re safe.” His arms eased when I complied. Dell patted me. “Give Cord a minute to rein him in.”

Her warning drew my gaze upward. His eyes shined like golden beacons, with all the warmth of lighthouse torches. Now that I was myself again, his nose buried against my throat, under my ear, putting his teeth close to my pulse. I swallowed and let him drag my scent deep into his lungs. A long time later, his grip loosened enough for me to clamber off his lap.

Dell offered me a hand up and inched between us when Graeson growled like she had stolen a raw New York strip out of his food bowl. “Cam is not pack.” Her voice trembled. “You can’t hold her if she doesn’t want to be held.”

“Mine,” he warned her in a voice that was more beast than man.

“No,” Dell told him, stronger this time.