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years old. Hera fixed her up for me when we were in college, and now I don’t push her faster than she wants to go.”
    Headlights flashed behind them, and Quentin said, “You might want to try.”
    Her breath caught. “Is that—is that them?”
    “I’d bet my truck on it.”
    The truck rammed into them from behind, and Emma screamed. Quentin lunged over to help with the wheel, wincing as if he was in pain. It was too late, though—Emma’s car went over the shoulder and slid into a tree. She looked over at Quentin to see if he was okay, but when she lifted her head, everything went dark.

nine
    When he opened his eyes, he saw bars. He was caged. Fucking caged . Where was Emma?
    He sat up so fast the room spun, and the bars of his cage spun with it. To his left, Emma lay in a cage of her own. He held his own breath, waiting to see the rise and fall of her back. She was breathing. She was alive.
    He pounded his fist on the cement floor, grateful for the pulse of pain. Shit! How could he have let this happen, and how could he have involved her in it? He’d really thought she would get there and back before anyone showed up.
    The price for being wrong had never been so high.
    “Emma?” he whispered.
    She stirred, but didn’t wake up. He didn’t know if he should wake her at all. She hadn’t bumped her head that he had seen, and he’d been watching her as carefully as possible when the Brooks truck rammed into them. But maybe he’d missed something.
    “She’s fine,” a voice said from the corner. Tyler. He looked a lot like Bryan, so it took Quentin a moment to be sure. “I checked her out when you got back.”
    “If you touch a single hair on her head—”
    “Relax,” Tyler said, frowning. His eyes were a lighter brown than Bryan’s, his hair a little shorter. “I touched her so my brother wouldn’t.”
    While Quentin puzzled over that, Tyler said, “She’s pretty. Is she your mate?”
    Quentin growled.
    Tyler laughed. “I guess so. I don’t have any interest in her, so you can relax. At least around me. Bryan’s—”
    He broke off at the sound of footsteps high above them.
    “Bryan’s back,” he finished.
    Someone stomped slowly down the stairs. Now that Quentin was looking around more, it seemed they were in a basement, probably beneath the Brooks family home.
    “Fee, fi, fo, fum,” Bryan intoned, “I smell the blood of a rogue lion.” Bryan came into view and ogled Emma’s sleeping form. “And his pretty little piece of ass.”
    Quentin struggled to keep his temper. Tyler was dangerous because Quentin didn’t know him, but Bryan was fucking insane. The more Quentin acted like he cared, the worse Bryan would behave toward Emma.
    “What do you want?” Quentin asked.
    Bryan set a knife down on the workbench. “Why are you here?”
    “The Fourniers sent me. They’re looking for Cora.”
    “And they sent you to get her instead of coming out here themselves? Typical.”
    “They thought they might not be welcome. Do you have Cora, or not?”
    Before Bryan could answer, Tyler said, “Yes.”
    Bryan turned on him. “Tyler, you are not to utter another word in this room.”
    Quentin felt the power of an alpha wash through the basement. It wouldn’t affect Quentin, since he didn’t belong to the Nevada Pride, but it would have a powerful hold over Tyler. But if Bryan was wielding alpha power, it meant something had happened to their father.
    “Where’s Jerome Brooks?” Quentin asked.
    “Business,” Bryan said. “What’s it to you?”
    “Nothing.” If Bryan was alpha, his father must have been away for a long time, enough time for the power structure to get reconfigured. Quentin continued, “It’ll be a pride war if you don’t let Cora go.”
    “Who says she doesn’t want to stay?” Bryan said with a smirk. “She’s my mate.”
    Behind him, Tyler shook his head.
    “I’m pretty sure she doesn’t want to stay. She hasn’t answered any calls from her brothers. If she