He grunted. He would have thought that was obvious. People said that actions spoke louder than words, but they didn’t seem to take clues from the behavior of those around them.
Dawn let out a long breath. “I don’t know much about Fiona. She was found dead in a park. When the police went to her apartment, they found Makenna; she’d been alone for two days. Fiona had several fake IDs. There were no personal or sentimental items that might hint at her roots. But there was one thing . . . I don’t know if it will help uncover her history, but it’s strange.”
Ryan took a step closer. “What?”
“The image of a salamander had been burned into the flesh of her back. Like someone had branded her with a hot iron.”
The image tickled his memory. He’d heard of such a thing before, but where? The answer slipped away the second he reached for it.
Dawn sighed. “Deep down, she wants to find them, and she wants to understand what happened. Most of all, she wants to confront the people who ordered the banishment because Makenna hates injustice—or maybe that’s why she hates injustice. But I think she convinces herself they don’t matter, because then she doesn’t have to be hurt by what they did and they have no power over her.”
Ryan could understand that. Makenna had a soft, compassionate, bruised heart. Facing her past would mean potentially facing more pain, so she chose to live in denial instead. It was a primitive defense mechanism that most people used to some degree in their lives, and sometimes it was the only thing that helped a person function. What Makenna wasn’t seeing was that closure could go a long way to helping her heal.
Giving Dawn a nod of thanks for her honesty, Ryan slid into the Chevy and drove to Phoenix Pack territory. Once Zac was settled, Ryan retreated to his room and dialed a familiar number. “Garrett, I have a question.”
“Well, hello to you too, son.”
Ryan inwardly sighed. Garrett was the Head Enforcer of his old pack and had taught him how to track. He’d also been more of a father to Ryan than his true father had. “You know I don’t like pleasantries.”
“Yes, I do.” Garrett chuckled. “What’s your question?”
“You ever heard of any wolves having a salamander branded into their skin?” Ryan didn’t intend to track Makenna’s roots until after the Remy situation was over. But it bugged him that he was sure he’d heard of the salamander brand before.
“I once heard of an Alpha who likes to brand his wolves. He apparently thinks of it as an honor. A symbol of his favor. But to brand a shifter the way they brand their mates is the ultimate exertion of dominance, nothing more.”
“What’s the Alpha’s name? What pack does he run?”
“It was a long time ago that I heard about it. I don’t remember any of the specifics.”
Disappointment welled up in him.
“Why the interest?”
Ryan’s lips tightened. “I can’t say. It’s not my secret to tell.”
“Fair enough. You should visit us sometime soon.”
Be in the general vicinity of his parents? Not an appealing idea. “I’ll think about it.”
Garrett snorted. “No, you won’t. But I understand why. Take care, son.” The line went dead.
Returning his cell to his pocket, Ryan wondered if he should feel guilty for going against Makenna’s wishes. She’d shared her secrets, only asking that he’d let them alone. But how could he? How could he ignore something that hurt her? The answer was . . . he couldn’t. When she hurt, he hurt—an amazing phenomenon, given that he wasn’t particularly empathetic. Apparently, she was rubbing off on him.
That night, Ryan lay on his bed with Makenna snuggled into his side, her head on his chest. Both were naked and thoroughly sated. As he played his fingers through her hair, he sensed she was on the verge of sleep. He should have let her rest, should have simply said good night. Instead, Ryan found himself blurting out what he’d wanted to say all day. “We should tell people we’re mates.”
Makenna exhaled heavily. “I told you, I don’t want to say anything until we know for sure.”
His hand clenched in her hair. “We’re mates, Kenna. I know it. You know it.”
She peered up at him. “And if you’re wrong?”
“I’m not wrong.”
She rolled her eyes. “Let’s pretend for just a moment that you’re a mere mortal and make mistakes like everyone else . . . What if you’re wrong?”
The anxiety that very briefly flickered in her eyes surprised him. “You’re mine, Kenna. Nothing will change that.”
Makenna wished she could believe that. She wanted to, wanted it more than she’d wanted anything in a very long time. But she couldn’t envision Ryan ever imprinting on someone.
He rolled onto his side and lapped at a bite on her neck. “Tell me about your childhood.”
“What do you want to know?”