“And what do you plan to do?”

“Either hunt him or play his game and turn the tables. I’m a born predator,” I said with a purr, stroking the prickly hair on his jaw. “The only thing that frightens me is being caught off guard like when those men were following me. Maybe now that everyone knows I’m a panther, I feel more in control than ever.” I traced my finger over his bottom lip and felt his hot breath beat against it. “Delgado is going to pay.”

“I want in.”

“In what?” I tilted my head and half smiled.

“Whatever you plan on doing. I want in.”

Wheeler closed his mouth around my finger and suddenly flipped me onto my back. Ancient heat coursed through my veins, and a dark hunger began to emerge. Wheeler sat back on his legs and lifted my foot, holding it below his chin. His eyes briefly skated between my legs since my nightie covered nothing.

“I like this,” he said, flicking the loose chain on my toe ring.

Without warning, he put his mouth around my middle toe, clasping the ring between his teeth and slowly pulling it off. Seeing Wheeler perform that act sent liquid fire through my body, and I moaned in response.

When a fist pounded against the door, Wheeler jumped to his feet and vanished in the darkness. I sat up, my heart thundering against my chest.

I’d never be able to erase that visual from my mind.

“What the hell are you doing in here?” I heard Reno ask.

“Checking up on our guest. She didn’t eat, you know. And what exactly are you doing here?”

It was interesting to hear all the accusations and suspicion in the inflection of their tone without seeing them.

“Both of you come in,” I said, scooting to the end of the bed. “There’s no sense in playing games since we’re all playing the same one. Turn on the light and let’s talk about Delgado.”

***

That evening, we snuck out of the house. The Weston pack was used to the comings and goings of the family, so hearing the Camaro firing up raised no alarms. Everyone assumed I had gone to bed for the night. Instead, Wheeler had crept into the laundry room and found a pair of jeans and a dark T-shirt that would fit me, along with some sneakers.

“You look good dressed down,” he said when I climbed into the backseat of his Camaro. I didn’t like dressing so boyishly, nor did I like how constricting the jeans were. It felt like a costume, so it was weird to have a man compliment me on clothes that weren’t sexy.

The car rocked when Reno sat in the passenger seat with his laptop. Delgado hadn’t called, but Reno said they’d be able to track his number—something about using towers. Thank God for men and their electronic toys; I knew little about such things.

“You sure you want to come?” Reno asked in a gruff voice, twisting his neck around so he could see me out of the corner of his eye.