Saving a Wolf: Moonbound Series, Book Six by Krystal Shannan, Camryn Rhys

crossed the room and stood next to the counter of shredded beef and warm corn tortillas.
    “I sent them out for some fruit. All of ours is gone.”
    She chuckled. “That doesn’t surprise me.”
    “It shouldn’t have surprised me. But I wanted some pineapple and none of them hesitated to fulfill that request.”
    “Your mate is sitting on the couch.” Maggie thumbed toward Alex.
    Julianna’s laugh filled the kitchen. “I don’t even think he heard me ask. He likes to act like he’s in charge on the update calls. Plus, the others popped up from their card game and ran out the door almost immediately. So it wasn’t a big deal.”
    “Cravings?” Maggie started rolling beef in a tortilla and jabbed a toothpick through the center before laying it on a plate to be fried.
    “Yes. At least pineapple is pretty easy to find and smells nice. Last time I wanted pickled pigs feet. Poor Alex.” Julianna snickered. “I think he was close to puking the whole ride home with that jar.”
    “Totally off the topic of your strange pregnancy cravings, is Luther an asshole?”
    Maggie recounted the events as they’d occurred.
    Julianna sighed and nodded. “We found the same info you did. Undercover cop. Someone faked his death, although it didn’t seem important who did it. Cold. Broody. An asshole to pretty much everyone. My dad gave him a working interview and hired him by the end of the week.” She shrugged. “He’s worked for him for two years, and he’s always been short and gruff whenever we’ve interacted. He lives on that boat. Dad offered to get him a place in town, but he asked for the smallest room on the yacht and that was that.” Julianna leaned against the counter and looked down at her. “Is he really your… mate?” she asked, her voice barely over a whisper. I’m so sorry.”
    Maggie gritted her teeth. “I’m not.” She just needed to figure out what it was her mate was actually running from. “I’ll do some more digging, then. Something is wrong and I missed it. I hate missing things.”

    L uther squeezed the tequila bottle and slammed it on the galley counter. He never got into the stash on the boat, even though it was his home. But the flashes of his past…
    They wouldn’t stop.
    He wiped at his mouth and put the cap back on the bottle. He didn’t need alcohol. And he sure as hell didn’t need to get drunk. That had never worked before.
    What he really needed was to run. It was the only thing that really took away the sting of the fact that he couldn’t really run—that he had to stay in Choaca.
    He stowed the bottle back in the locked liquor cabinet and walked down the hall to his small bedroom. His muscles twitched. He stripped off his clothes and stretched. Everything felt on edge.
    Luther slipped on one of the four matching pairs of black sweat-wicking shorts and grabbed his running shoes. The bed creaked under him as he sat down and pulled socks on. A shiver ran up his back and he yanked hard on his laces.
    “Going somewhere, sailor?” The voice came from his bedroom door and he didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.
    “I thought I told you not to come back.” Luther worked his jaw and slid on his other shoe, tying it quickly.
    “Yeah, you’ll find I’m not a very good listener.” Her footsteps plunked across the hardwood floor.
    His shoulders tensed and he dragged in a breath. “I’ll call the police.”
    “No, you won’t.” The bed creaked again when she sat down. “We need to talk.”
    “Is this some kind of wolf thing?” He pushed himself up and rifled through his drawer to find a shirt. Before he could slip it over his head, her hot fingers were on his shoulder.
    “Don’t push me away, Luther.” With a tiny sigh, she added, “I mean… Chris…”
    He froze with the shirt in midair. All the oxygen seemed to suck out of the room. His throat closed around his response.
    No. She couldn’t know. It’d been a slip. Impossible .
    Luther tried to speak,