His Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed thickly, and Wheeler fell onto his back and covered his face with his arm again. Rage and shame—that’s what this man had been reduced to.

“I’m sorry. I should have never asked you into my bed. Now I know why you’ve always hated me.”

His laugh was short-lived and quiet. “I don’t hate you. That’s the problem.”

When I touched his leg consolingly, he sucked in a sharp breath. And just like that, without the man even looking at me, I turned him on. My whole life I’d used my body to make a man desire me, but Wheeler hardened from a single touch of compassion. I watched his arousal as it began to tighten his pants—straining against the fabric. His entire body tensed, and he kept his arm shielding his eyes as if it could hide him from the truth.

The truth that he wanted me, despite his loathing for panthers. That explained the inner conflict. I was his enemy; I represented what he had killed to stay alive.

I wanted to reach out and touch him some more, but he was too vulnerable.

“Delgado took my cat,” I said absently, pulling my hand away.

Wheeler snatched my wrist and leaned forward. “Say again?”

“When I went back to my apartment to get my things, he’d left a note on my door.”

“What did it say?” Wheeler sat up.

I shrugged, hesitant at first about how much I wanted to confide in him. But we had made a promise in this room, and I needed to give back some of that trust that I’d taken. “Delgado wants me to work for him.”

“Doing what?” he bit out.

I snatched my wrist away. “Not dancing. He took Misha, and for that, he’s going to pay. I want to find Skye and anyone else he’s holding.”

“And how are you going to do that?” he asked, cocking his head.

“A girl has her resources.” I leaned on my left leg and sighed. “My father was a great warrior. He was much older than my mother, and he died of old age. You two have a lot in common. He spent time in the panther pits, starved and tortured. My mama said he carried a tremendous guilt on his shoulders and spent the rest of his life in servitude, helping those in need. He fought other people’s battles—even saved a pack from rogues once. He did what was right and protected those who were weaker. Maybe that makes him a superhero in my head, but I’ve inherited his tenacity. I don’t run from my problems, Wheeler. Maybe what you see isn’t always what you get.”

He scoffed and shook his head.

I grabbed his chin and turned it my way. “Do you think growing a beard and putting ink on your body makes you tougher? Don’t underestimate me just because I get a pedicure and Brazilian wax. You don’t know a thing about what I’ll do for my friends. Lexi has an idea, but that’s just scratching the surface,” I said, speaking close to his mouth.