CARESSED BY ICE

She swallowed but didn’t defend her emotions. This was why she had asked him. Dorian might see her as a sister, but he was the kind of brother who’d give it to her straight.

“You survived,” he said, “and you aren’t a basket case. You should be fucking proud of yourself. He tried to cripple you, but he didn’t succeed.”

“No. But he stole something precious from me . . . he stole my wolf.”





The depth of pain in those words stopped Judd in his tracks. He’d raced down here after discovering Brenna’s absence from the den, ready to face the consequences of last night’s critical breach. But he wasn’t prepared for this. For a Brenna with trembling hands and a whisper of a voice.

Moving soundlessly out of the doorway, he leaned his back against the wall and hoped they were too distracted to scent him. He knew he should leave, should allow her privacy. But he couldn’t. Brenna should’ve asked Dorian’s opinion while Judd was with her—but she hadn’t. Because Judd was Psy and couldn’t give her comfort.

Not only had he never truly understood the staggering depth of her loss at not being able to shift, he’d left her in the early morning hours when she had needed him so desperately. How could he blame her for going to another man for succor? Yet he did.

“Enrique stole a lot from you.” Dorian’s voice cut through the air. “But you can get some of that back.”

“How?”

“Build on your strengths, Brenna. Become so damn good at those things that no one dares to hold the other against you.”

Good advice, Judd thought, his fingers curling into fists.

“Okay. Okay.” Brenna sounded as if she was putting that will of hers to good use.

“Anytime you need me, just call. Alright, kid?”

Judd’s fists were so tight, he was in danger of fracturing his own bones. He understood why Brenna had needed to talk to Dorian. He even understood that the leopard saw Brenna as a young sister, not a potential lover. None of that made any difference. Judd wanted to be the one she turned to when in need.

Ice picks of pain shoved through his skull, dissonance so vicious it nearly shut down his consciousness. The countdown was getting inexorably closer to the end. Uncurling his fingers with sheer force of will, he watched the blood rush back in. Last night had made it clear that he’d already crossed too many lines, broken too many rules. Soon, it would be too late to draw back.

“Thank you, Dorian.”

No, he would not pull back. Brenna was his. His to pleasure. And his to comfort. Squaring his shoulders, he stepped into the doorway.





CHAPTER 32


Dorian and Brenna both looked up. He’d expected surprise and perhaps fluster, but Brenna’s face reflected an expression he could define only as relief. Getting up off her chair, she pressed her body into his, burying her face against his chest. “You need to hold me.”

He could follow orders, especially when they were given in a familiar female voice hiding a tremor. Raising his arms, he wrapped them around her body. She didn’t seem to mind being crushed, her own arms holding on tighter.

Dorian’s eyes met his over the top of her head. The leopard had an inscrutable look on his face. But when Judd inclined his head in thanks, Dorian returned the gesture.





After escorting Brenna back to the den sometime around three in the afternoon, Judd left to help Sascha with the deer. Brenna had decided to stay behind because she had a viral problem to figure out, but her torn loyalties were obvious.

“Your work is important,” he told her. “We need to strike at the Council’s heart.”

“I know.” She flashed a smile. “But thanks for saying it anyway.”

He left her hunched over her personal computer and spent the rest of the day feeding Sascha power. When it became clear he wouldn’t make it back to the den before dawn the next day, he rang Riley. “Keep an eye on her. The stalker’s been quiet, but he’s out there.”

Riley made a sound of agreement. “She’s not going to like it.”

“Do you care?”

“I care about keeping her alive.” A pause. “I’m checking out the soldiers.”

“Any indication who it might be?”

“Not yet.” Riley’s tone held both frustration and pure focus. “Do what you have to do to help DawnSky. I’ll take care of Bren.”

Judd ended the call, his mind on the killer and the concordant threat to Brenna. It made him even more determined to return to the den as soon as possible. However, because of the number of victims, he didn’t make it back until after eight the next morning. He was tired but not drained—because Sascha was having to work very slowly, the draw on his psychic strength had been steady but not intense.