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shot puzzling excitement through his body, just like it had done when he’d taken her hand in front of the humans.
    “I’m coming,” she said.
    Her reaction surprised him. “We don’t have much time. And flying is quicker.” Plus, he couldn’t risk being distracted by her, again.
    “I’m the only one representing my pack.” She snorted. “And I’m not going to let you botch up something, again. I’ll change to wolf form then and meet you there.”
    He grunted. It was no use arguing with her. What did it matter if she came? Besides, a small part of him inside didn’t want to part from her, yet. “Fine,” he snapped.
    “Lachlan.” She gritted her teeth, but stepped forward to hand three guns to him. “Take these out to sea and throw them far from shore.”
    When had she taken them from the other humans? Clearly, she was resourceful. “My hands are already full, Raina.”
    “Please.”
    The haunted glint in her wide eyes implored him, one he couldn’t resist, no matter how awkward it would be to carry them as well as a human. “I will.”
    “Hold on, this might help.”
    She dropped them on the ground and tore off the bottom hem of her dress. One part stretched higher than she’d likely intended and it revealed a tempting glimpse of her upper thigh. Why did she do that? That tiny piece of exposed skin set off an array of possibilities in his already imaginative fantasies. She used the strip of material to tie the weapons together.
    She approached him. “May I?”
    When he bent his head forward, she looped the makeshift hold around his neck. Her alluring female scent filled his nostrils, again.
    “Thank you.”
    Gratitude shined through her eyes. These weapons represented something to Raina, something that pained her. She’d entrusted him with that task, even after he’d behaved like an ultimate baboon. It had to have meant something important enough for her to ask him for help.
    Unable to say a word, he nodded before ascending with the human. He flew them over the heather-strewn moors and then the dense forests fringing gargoyle territory, glancing down for another glimpse at Raina. Deeper in their territory, he spotted the abandoned dwellings used by the gargoyles who’d left the isle. If he didn’t come up with any answers about gargoyle magic soon, he’d have to go to them.
    He grunted. How they’d love to see him grovel; school him in how wrong he was to have played music for humans. The elder gargoyles never understood. How freeing it was for Lachlan and his brothers to express themselves on stage, as their true selves, instead of masquerading as humans. Yet, what did the elders know? They spent most of their time in hiding.
    His muscles tensed, although flying often calmed him. After unleashing a string of curses, he searched his arsenal of magical knowledge. One insightful thought could spark the ammunition needed to repair the veil.
    The witches were likely brewing a potion or changing some spell or whatever they did to protect their territory. The wolf shifters—who knew what they did; so private and stealthy in their section of the island. Still, nothing came to him. What was he supposed to do?
    When he spotted Bryce and Gavin at the shore, he descended. They’d already propped the two humans into their boat. When Lachlan landed beside them, the guns clanged against the human’s head. Served him right for bringing weapons onto the Isle of Stone, especially for terrifying Raina. He stepped into the cool water of the Atlantic and set the male into the boat, trying to place him into a natural position. He and his brothers pushed the boat out to sea.
    “Be right back,” he told them.
    He flew far enough out to sea that the current wouldn’t carry the guns back any time soon and then even further to ensure it. If it ever happened, he guessed they’d be too rusted to function. Useless chunks of metal.
    Lachlan soared back to land, spotting a sterling gray wolf watching him from the