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  “Go back to your room, Henley. This doesn’t concern you,” her mother ordered.

  “But it does concern me, Mama. I’m the one who got dumped today.”

  He broke up with that? He thought, a frown anchoring his lips down.

  She had to be the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen in his life. His eyes traveled over her lush cherry lips and he suddenly envied the thought of his brother ever taking those kisses for granted.

  God, she’s perfect.

  His gaze moved over her curvaceous body and immediately snapped back to her glittering blue hues, the ability to breathe becoming unfathomable.

  Oh no.

  “Mister Warrick, are you listening to me?” Mrs. Crevan demanded.

  Definitely not.

  “I asked you a very simple question.”

  She was in front of him then, blocking his view of the perfection known as Henley. The older woman’s eyes were glowing with anger as she pointed a finger at him.

  “Were you aware of your brother’s intentions? Did you know he was going to hurt my girl today?”

  “No,” he replied honestly. He was trying very hard to keep his eyes on hers, but the urge to gaze at Henley again was becoming overwhelming. “I swear to you I had no idea he was going to do that. He seemed pleased with the arrangements. Were we not preparing for their wedding to take place soon?”

  “Next week!” She laughed bitterly. “They were to be married next week, and here my daughter stands with no husband-to-be! This is what you get for not keeping a close eye on your brother while they bonded. You left all the supervising to me. Shame on you! Where have you been the past five years, huh? Oh, you...you cat! You better fix this, Rane, or so help me...”

  “It’s not a big deal,” Henley said suddenly, catching both of them off guard.

  “Excuse me?” She stared at her daughter in horror. “No big deal? NO BIG DEAL?”

  “No, Mama. It’s not a big deal. I don’t need a husband to define who I am, or what purpose I serve while I’m alive. As a matter of fact, Trace did us both a favor by ending our relationship. I wish him nothing but happiness.”

  “Nothing but happiness?” Mrs. Crevan looked as if her head was about to explode.

  The scent of her agitation was heavy in the air as she stomped towards her daughter.

  “Have you lost your mind, girl? He was our one shot at continuing the bloodline! Oh, if your father were here to hear these words...”

  “But he’s not, Mama! He’s workin’. Besides, it’s not your place to worry about my life anymore. I realize this means you won’t have any grandbabies, but—”

  “OH!” Mrs. Crevan wailed. “Oh, I will not hear this! I will not! Henley, you’ve lost your mind. Oh, gracious me, I...I...”

  She fled from the room in a fit of tears, leaving them alone.

  Leaving him alone.

  With her.

  “I’m really sorry about that.” She sighed, shaking her head. “She’s a bit dramatic sometimes. I think she’s taking the break-up harder than I am.”

  He watched her with curiosity as she stepped further into the living room. Her hands smoothed over the fabric of her sweater as their gazes connected, and there it was again.

  His heart fluttered in his chest and the world seemed to disappear.

  This wasn’t good.

  “Are you not upset that you are no longer engaged to my brother?” He asked after a moment.

  “Of course, I’m upset,” she responded.

  She eased down onto the couch and crossed one leg over the other, her hands resting against her lap.

  “He hurt me today. I was totally blindsided. It’s not easy to think someone cares about you, and then find out they possibly never did.”

  “Never did...?”

  His eyebrows pinched together in pure bafflement. Had his brother lost his damned mind?

  “He was very clear on that today.”

  She squirmed on the couch and averted her gaze elsewhere. That was probably for the better, because he couldn’t keep his eyes off her.

  Again—not good. She was his brother’s mate-to be—not his.

  ‘Not anymore,’ his inner-cat offered smugly.

  ‘Don’t start,’ he warned.

  “But it’s fine. Please don’t feel that you have to do anything about it; I’ll get over it. I really don’t need a man in my life to make it worthwhile. I’ll be okay.”

  He opened his mouth to say something, but words escaped him. What could he say to make her feel better? She seemed to be doing all right with the break-up, even if her emotions painted an entirely different image in his mind.

  “Very well,” he finally said. “But I promise I will make him apologize to you, Henley. He could have handled that in a different way rather than breaking the news to you in such a public setting.”

  “He was probably smart to do that,”—she shrugged—“Otherwise I would have kicked his ass, and he knows it.”

  Spunky.

  He bit back a grin and nodded.

  “Is there anything else we can help you with tonight, Mr. Warrick? I’m very tired. My father will be home soon, and it’s probably best if you’re not here.”

  Right. He still had to deal with Mr. Crevan. He really didn’t look forward to that. Cleaning up his baby brother’s messes was getting old.

  “Goodnight, Mr. Warrick.”

  “Goodnight, Miss Crevan. I’ll show myself out.”

  He couldn’t have gotten out of that house a moment too soon.

  Being around her was dangerous. He wasn’t allowed to be attracted to her, yet his body hummed with excitement at the possibility of being with her.

  Wrong. Bad. No.

  “Get a hold of yourself, man,” he muttered as he walked hastily away from the Crevan residence. “She is off limits. She is not yours to have.”

  But he knew better than that. His brother, though poorly executed, had done him a favor, it seemed.

  That little fox was back on the market, and he had it in good mind to do a little shopping.

  Chapter Three

  She awoke to the sound of hushed whispering coming from down the hallway. Try as she might, her mother didn’t know how to be quiet, and even if she was trying to keep a secret, it would be no use—her hearing was astounding.

  Her sensitive ears picked up on a few words, but she was more concerned with the tone of her mother’s voice. Had she been crying?

  She had been crying, too. She’d cried herself to sleep, but she’d never admit it.

  It was bad enough to be known as weak and helpless—no thanks to her inner fox. But she refused to show that weakness now, especially over some idiot.

  Crying over Trace Warrick a waste of good tears. He didn’t deserve anything else from her, and today was day one on a short road to recovery.

  She was free now, right? And that meant she could do whatever she wanted, without worrying about what her future husband would think.

  Ha!

  ‘We needed him,’ her inner-fox whispered.

  ‘I don’t need anyone,’ she replied, though it was a flat-out lie.

  Her chest ached from all the crying she’d done. No matter how mad she wanted to appear to be, she was devastated.

  She’d dedicated her whole life to that boy—no exaggeration. He was supposed to be her forever; her happily ever after; her everything.

  How could he have never loved her?

  Stop thinking about it!

  “Mama?” She called as she opened her bedroom door. “Mama, are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, Henley,” her mother replied from the kitchen. “I’m just cutting onions. Get dressed.”

  Bossy, much?

  She wrinkled her nose and tiptoed towards the kitchen.

  Her mother was lying. She could always tell when she was lying, but she couldn’t figure out why she felt the need to.

  She may not have had the answers yet, but being emotionally linked to her parents sometimes had its
advantages.

  Mrs. Crevan’s anxiety hammered into her chest like a sack of potatoes and it actually hurt.

  A lot.

  Something was wrong.

  “Mama,” she said as she entered the kitchen. “What’s wrong?”

  “Damn it, Henley. I told you to get dressed!” She turned away from her quickly, but the tears rolling down her cheeks were too much to hide.

  Something was very, very wrong.

  “Mama, what happened?”

  “It’s nothing you need to worry yourself with,” she insisted, her voice nasally from crying. “Go get dressed, Henley. We have a lot to do today.”

  “Like what?”

  She was getting annoyed. She hated when her mom tried to hide stuff from her. Both of her parents had a habit of trying to pull that stunt, often, but she always figured it out.

  Foxes may have been weak and slow and a million other things, but they were extremely clever.

  They never gave her enough credit.

  It suddenly donned on her what was wrong as she eyed the empty place at the kitchen table, where her father usually sat for his morning cup of coffee.

  “Where’s Dad?”

  Her mother’s back went rigid and she knew, she just knew, that was the problem. Dread pooled in her stomach and the nausea she’d felt the day before came back ten-fold.

  “He never came home.” Her mother sniffled. “He should have been back before midnight and he...he just never came home.”

  “Well, did you call anyone to see where he is?” She demanded. “Paul? Sid?”

  Paul and Sid were close friends of her father, and they always went out to scout together. Scouting, for lack of a better explanation, was when a few fox-shifters got together and patrolled the city to make sure no nasty werewolves were lurking about. It was a system that had been in place since the early 80’s, and so far, it was working.

  Until now, apparently.

  “I tried to call and no one is answering,” her mother explained, keeping her back to her. “So, I called Sid’s wife and...”

  “And what?”

  “Sid never came home either. We don’t know what’s happened.”

  “Well, someone better be finding out!” Her voice cracked with emotion.

  She didn’t like the thought of her father missing. What if the lycanthropes were back? What if they’d attacked them?

  Oh, God. Oh, no.

  She felt lightheaded as she leaned against the counter and pressed a cold palm against her forehead. This was too much. She could handle a stupid breakup with that stupid cat-shifter, but there was no way in hell she could handle this.

  “It’s going to be all right, Henley,” Mrs. Crevan reached out to touch her arm gently. “Sweetheart, we’ll find your dad, Sid, and Paul. Maybe their vehicle just broke down and they had to walk a great distance to find help. Maybe—”

  “You’re lying to me.” Her eyes snapped up to meet her mother’s. “I know you’re connected to him mentally, Mama. You’re mates. What has he said to you?”

  Her eyes widened slightly and she quickly turned away from her, busying herself with wiping off the tabletop.

  “Mama.”

  “You don’t need to worry yourself with these affairs, Henley. You’re just a girl.”

  “I’m twenty now, Mama! Don’t treat me like I’m some kind of kid. Daddy’s in danger, isn’t he?” She rounded the table and gripped her mother’s wrist, preventing her from ignoring her. “It’s the wolves, isn’t it? They’re back.”

  Mrs. Crevan lifted her teary eyes to meet her daughter’s. Her bottom lip quivered uncontrollably as she slowly shook her head.

  “I don’t know, Henley. I don’t know if it’s the wolves, or if someone else is behind this. All I know is your father reached out to me late last night and he said...”

  “He said what, Mama? Tell me. Please tell me!”

  She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, seemingly trying to calm herself before continuing.

  She tried to prepare herself for whatever her mother had to say. Her world was about to be flipped upside down again—she just knew it.

  “He said not to look for him. It’s too late.”

  She sat in stunned silence for nearly an hour after her mother left.

  She said she had to go speak with Sid’s wife, or something like that, and she was left alone with her thoughts and the sickening grief resting heavy on her chest.

  My dad is in trouble, she thought as she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth again. He’s probably scared and alone. Or...No! No, I won’t think that. He is not dead. I would sense it if he were.

  She closed her eyes and envisioned his handsome face, desperately attempting to connect herself with him. Though she could not read his mind like her mother could, she still had the ability to pick up on what he was feeling.

  Her mind was racing, and it was difficult to cipher through everything she was feeling. Finally, though, she was able to clear her mind and focus on him.

  “Daddy...”

  Terror. That’s what she felt as her father’s emotions pinged back against her heart. He was scared.

  Never in her twenty years of life had she ever felt her father’s fear, and now it was hitting her in copious waves as fresh tears spilled down her cheeks.

  “Oh, Dad,” she whispered. “We’ll save you, somehow. You’re going to be okay.”

  A sudden knock on the front door caused her to jump up from her seat and her eyes snapped open.

  Who was it? Who was visiting while her mother was away? Fox-shifters could be strange folk—she knew that, and for someone to stop by while her parents weren’t home was so rare. She was of age and unattached; she wasn’t allowed to be visited by unattached males because sometimes the unexpected happened.

  Would it be so bad? She wondered, slowly moving towards the door. Maybe I need to get laid...

  Her heart jumped into her throat as she thought of Trace. For some reason, sex and his face just went together, perfectly, in her mind.

  “Ugh,” she muttered in disgust.

  Why would she even want to do that with him after what he’d put her through?

  Well, if it was him on the other side of that door, he’d better be coming to apologize. His older brother did seem like the kind of man who kept his word, and given he was the leader of the Warrick tribe now...

  Not to mention the fact he’s panty-melting hot.

  Wait. What?

  She felt like smacking herself for that last thought. She wasn’t allowed to think about him in such a way. Rane had already had his share of mate-related drama, and being attracted to him in the slightest would be frowned upon by both species.

  She had been promised to his little brother, after all, and besides, he was still in mourning for the loss of his mate-to-be.

  “I’m sorry, Elsie,” she whispered sadly.

  Elsie Hammond died a week before her wedding day, suddenly and very unexpectedly. No one was sure of what had killed her, but many people were convinced Rane would die of a broken heart.

  He didn’t, though, because canidthropes were incredibly strong creatures. And her kind needed that sort of strength if they were going to survive.

  She needed Trace—the foxes depended on their union.

  It sure was a shame that she hadn’t gotten matched with someone like Rane instead. He at least seemed to have some sort of awareness of the importance their union held. He wouldn’t have broken up with her a week before their wedding...

  You are being so disrespectful, she thought sadly. Elsie didn’t ask to die!

  “What am I doing?”

  Fingers running through her hair, she stopped a few feet from the door and stared at it.

  What if it was Rane?

  Her heart skipped a beat at the thought.

  “Oh no,” she groaned. “No, no, no.”

  The last thing she wanted was to be caught up in some sort of messed up love triangle—especially with brothers. Ever
ybody was already going to be talking about the breakup anyway—imagine what everyone would have to say about that!

  He doesn’t need my drama, anyway. Poor guy has been through enough.

  She felt terrible for him. Hell, all Canidthropes felt bad for him. Rane had shut himself off from the world after Elsie’s death, and focused solely on the affairs of the panthropes—and his little brother.

  Yeah, he’d done a bang up job with that, hadn’t he?

  You are terrible.

  A soft sigh escaped her, and guilt slowly bubbled in her chest.

  Yes, it sucked to be broken up with.

  Yes, it sucked that Trace chose to do it a week before their wedding.

  Yes, it sucked to learn he had never loved her.

  But she couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be engaged to someone and to lose them, as Rane had. Rane had wanted that union, and Elsie was always yapping about her wedding day—at least that’s what she’d heard.

  How very tragic.

  The knock sounded again, more impatiently this time, and she rushed to open the door.

  Her shoulders slumped in a mixture of relief and disappointment when her eyes landed on Deck.

  The somewhat lanky Canidthrope she called her best friend stood on the front porch with a box of chocolates between his hands, grinning from ear-to-ear.

  “Hey there, Hens,” he said cheerfully. “I’ve brought you some—”

  His face fell as his eyes landed on her.

  “What’s wrong? You’ve been crying again, haven’t you?”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “Yes, but it’s not over Trace. Come in.”

  “What happened then?” He questioned as he followed her inside and closed the door with his shoe.

  His eyes stayed glued to her back and she felt like his gaze was going to burn a hole straight through her.

  “It’s my dad.” She turned to face him, more tears threatening to fall. “Something...very bad has happened.”

  “That bad?” He dropped the box of chocolates onto the coffee table and wrapped his arms around her. “Talk to me, Hens. Tell me all about it.”

  By the time she was finished explaining the situation to him, he was sitting beside her on the couch with an arm wrapped around her shoulders.

  It was hard to read his expression.