The police believed we’d experienced a simple break in. Their deduction suited me fine. I could just imagine the line of questioning I would have endured if I’d mentioned the men had broken in to kidnap me. After seeing the second man, I had no doubt that had been their intent.

The front door closed, and I listened to Clay walk through the house and close himself in the bathroom. He needed to wash the dried blood from his face. It had served its purpose and hidden his noticeably advanced healing from the police.

Flipping back the covers, I got out of bed and started to dress. The dizziness and headache that had returned when I fell off the bed had faded while they questioned me.

I finished dressing, grabbed my messenger bag, and began to cram clothes in it. My mind wasn’t on packing so I didn’t treat it anymore gently than Clay or Luke had when they had packed it. How had I felt anything for that man on the floor? It shouldn’t have been possible. Agitation burrowed deep. When I turned toward the door and saw Clay watching me, I dropped my gaze to the floor unable to meet his calm regard. He sighed, stepped aside, and motioned for me to lead.

In the kitchen, Clay had my jacket and shoes waiting. I slipped them on, remembering at the last minute to call Rachel to let her know what had happened. Thankfully, she hadn’t been home. She promised only to come back home with Peter, just to be safe.

Clay didn’t say anything as we got into the car, which was normal, but I sensed his extreme tension. My stomach churned with guilt. However, I didn’t know what to say, so I closed my eyes and tried to nap. Still needing to regain my strength, sleep wasn’t too hard to come by.

Several times, I woke to the sound of him tapping his grey nails against the steering wheel. When I opened my eyes to look at him, I could see his elongated canines. At those times, I wanted to reach over and pat his leg, but I held myself back.

When I woke to see his ears pointed too, I quietly studied him for a few minutes. I knew I was the cause of his agitation. He’d sensed my withdrawal. I hadn’t wanted him to see my confusion. I wanted to talk to Sam first, before saying anything to Clay. But my approach obviously wasn’t the right one. Clay had stuck by me through everything. I needed to trust that he wouldn’t turn away from me after I revealed what had happened.

“Clay...”

He paused his tapping.

“Could you pull over for a minute?”

He glanced at me, lifted a concerned brow, but did as I asked. The tires crunched on the snowy shoulder. He stopped the car then turned toward me.

A sad smile lifted my lips. I hated to see him like this. I tapped my lips. I needed affirmation that we still had our connection, and he needed assurance I was fine.

His tight grip on the steering wheel loosened, and he shook his head in amusement. I held my breath as he leaned toward me.

Clay cradled my face in his hands and kissed me tenderly. I clutched his shirt, dragging him closer. When he opened his mouth to nip my bottom lip, I groaned and willingly let him in. We steamed the windows. My lungs burned for air. Finally, I had to pull away to catch my breath. He wrapped his arms around me and placed small gentle kisses on the top of my head.

His neck hovered in my line of sight. I could give him what he wanted. A quick bite and I wouldn’t need to worry about other potential Mates. I could Claim him as my own. But I didn’t want to hurt him anymore. Physically or emotionally. I pulled back from our make-out session.

Clay gave me one last kiss on the lips then put the car in drive. The smooth, tan skin of his very human ears called my attention, as did his clean, pink nails. He looked content, no longer tapping his fingers while he stared ahead at the snow-covered roads.

I turned away and pretended to sleep, condemning myself for my lie. My hesitation to Claim Clay didn’t stem from a concern that I would hurt him. No, just like Sam said, I selfishly didn’t want to give up my plans.

Deep down, I was unwilling to bend and try to make it work.

We arrived at the Compound just as the sun’s last rays sank below the tree-topped horizon. Vehicles crowded the parking area. I didn’t worry though. Holidays always drew a crowd.

Clay grabbed my bag then walked around to open my door for me. Staying close, we walked inside the Compound. Jackets and shoes filled the entry. It meant cramped quarters for the holiday, but I’d done it before.

We went to the apartment I usually stayed in with Sam, but another family with small cubs had commandeered it. After several minutes of knocking on doors, we gave up trying to find an apartment in the main Compound. We turned down a hall I typically didn’t travel—the unMated wing—and found the majority of the dorm quarters also occupied. Several men passed us as we searched. They gave us curious looks as they scented the air. I stayed close to Clay.

Clay and I grabbed the first open dorm room and put our stuff on the twin bed. We would figure out our sleeping arrangements later.

“I need to talk to Sam,” I said once we were back in the hall. Clay nodded and led the way to the main hall.

Charlene and her crew had done a wonderful job decorating the large room. Cornucopias with harvest produce sat on each of the long tables. Several turkeys with feathers made of construction paper hands hung on the walls. The cubs had obviously partaken in crafts while visiting. It amused me that Charlene insisted on celebrating the US holiday while living in Canada. Her extended adopted family didn’t seem to mind. I could hear women laughing in the attached kitchen. Fresh pumpkin pie perfumed the air.

In the midst of all the decorations, I spotted Sam. He sat with his back to me, conversing with several other men at one of the many sitting areas in the main hall. I noticed the weary slope of his shoulders. Part of me—the part that lived with him for so long and thought of him as “grandpa”—wanted to run over and hug him. I ignored that part.

Before he noticed me, I strode over and interrupted their conversation.

“It’s time we talked,” I said, tersely.

He turned toward me with a hesitant smile then quickly nodded to the others, who got up to move to another group.

“Gabby, I didn’t think you’d be up until tomorrow.”

Clay and I shared a glance. The main hall didn’t afford privacy since all the werewolves present would hear me. Then again, very few places in the Compound qualified as private to that degree. Normally, I wouldn’t care who heard me, but I had the mystery of the blue-grey werewolves to solve. I did a quick scan of the room and managed to hold back a wince of pain.

Clay gave an annoyed grunt but gently rubbed my back. He’d become adept at knowing when I used my gift.

In the brief glimpse, I’d noted the sparks all appeared normal. Well, for a werewolf anyway. But it only assured me to a degree. Although I didn’t think Sam responsible for what had happened, I still wondered if he might know something about it.

“We came early because two werewolves tried breaking into my house.” I watched Sam closely as I said it.

“What?” Sam said, giving Clay a sharp look. Sam appeared genuinely upset and concerned.

“He’s still not talking,” I said. I slumped into the chair across from Sam. “I believe their intentions were to kidnap me.”

Clay lowered himself into the chair next to me. He always stayed close, and I couldn’t imagine it any other way. If it hadn’t been for Clay, the men probably would have taken me. What would have happened then? I thought about the blonde man who’d been lying on the floor, and my stomach clenched with worry. My troubled gaze swung to Clay.

Clay met my look with calm, brown eyes. Staring into their depths, a tense breath eased out of me. Sure, I had questions, but I wouldn’t let the answers to any of them affect the tie Clay and I had.