“No. We’re not.” Hunt let out a bitter laugh. “The Summit’s still a month away.” A month of enduring Sandriel’s presence. “I … If you need anything from me, let me know.”

Isaiah blinked, surveying Hunt from head to boot tip. It shouldn’t have shamed him, that surprise on the commander’s face at his offer. Isaiah’s gaze shifted to the tiled roof beneath their matching boots, as if contemplating what or who might be responsible for his turn toward the altruistic. But Isaiah just asked, “Do you think Roga really turns her exes and enemies into animals?”

Having observed the creatures in the small tanks throughout the library, Hunt could only say, “I hope not.” Especially for the sake of the assistant who had been pretending she wasn’t falling asleep at her desk when he’d called to check in twenty minutes ago.

Since Declan had dropped the bomb about Sabine, she’d been broody. Hunt had advised her to be cautious about going after the future Prime, and she’d seemed inclined to wait for Viktoria to find any hint of the demon’s patterns—any proof that Sabine was indeed using the power of the ley lines to summon it, since her own power levels weren’t strong enough. Most shifters’ powers weren’t, though Danika had been an exception. Another reason for her mother’s jealousy—and motive.

They’d heard nothing from Ruhn, only a message yesterday about doing more research on the Horn. But if Vik had found something … Hunt asked, “Vik can’t come here with the news?”

“She wanted to show you in person. And I doubt Jesiba will be pleased if Vik comes here.”

“Considerate of you.”

Isaiah shrugged. “Jesiba is assisting us—we need her resources. It’d be stupid to push her limits. I have no interest in seeing any of you turned into pigs if we step on her toes too much.”

And there it was. The meaningful, too-long glance.

Hunt held up his hands with a grin. “No need to worry on my front.”

“Micah will come down on you like a hammer if you jeopardize this.”

“Bryce already told Micah she wasn’t interested.”

“He won’t forget that anytime soon.” Fuck, Hunt certainly knew that. The kill Micah had ordered last week as punishment for Hunt and Bryce embarrassing him in the Comitium lobby … It had lingered. “But I don’t mean that. I meant if we don’t find out who’s behind this, if it turns out you’re wrong about Sabine—not only will your reduced sentence be off the table, but Micah will find you responsible.”

“Of course he will.” Hunt’s phone buzzed, and he pulled it from his pocket.