“E,” Con interrupted. “Could you give us a second?”

Though Eidolon’s expression was as frosty as the breeze that stirred up the snow around them, he nodded. “I’ll take Luc and Kar to UG. You two can meet us there.”

Once he was out of sight, Sin huffed. “Good cop, bad cop doesn’t work on me. You’re not going to change my mind.”

“First of all,” Con growled, “I’m not the good cop. Second, I know I’m not going to change your mind. But at least tell me the truth.” He wanted the truth because he didplan on changing her mind.

“I just did.”

“Tell me the rest of it.”

She curled her hands into fists and got that stubborn set to her mouth, the one that made him want to kiss her just to make it go away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t do this,” he gritted out. “You’ve made a lot of progress. You know, with your brothers.”

Pink splotched her cheeks, and she averted her gaze. Kicked at the snow. “You don’t understand.”

“Then make me understand. Because even if you go back to the den, we still don’t know what’s up with the horse guy or why someone besides your assassins wants you dead. So you should be at the hospital with people who care about you right now. Not in your assassin den, all alone and hiding from your brothers.”

The color in her cheeks deepened, and she lifted her angry gaze to him. “Hiding?”

He stepped closer. “Hiding.”

“Maybe I just don’t want to be treated like a child by them—”

“Then stop acting like one!” he shouted. Her head snapped back as if he’d slapped her, and he pressed his advantage, stepping into her. “You don’t want to be owned, possessed, chained, but what the hell do you think you’re doing to yourself? You’re going back to your den to be free? How are you free if you can’t go anywhere without worrying about being killed by your own assassins? You’re still a slave, Sin. But this time, it’s of your own making.”

Her dark stare flared with fury. “I told you why I took the job—”

“Yeah, yeah. You took it to spare Idess.” He knew he was being a dick, was once again doing a repeat of what he’d done at Rivesta’s, but dammit, she had a shot at having a family. And if she went back to the den and shut herself off, she’d close down again, maybe tighter than ever this time. “But you know what? I think you’d have taken it anyway. You couldn’t even deal with your feelings, so how would you have dealt with the real world if you were out in it instead of living in a cave where you had a great excuse to not hang out with your family?”

Her eyes went steely. “God, you’re such an asshole sometimes.”

She’d called him that before. Had called him worse. But this time, it actually hurt. Because she was right. “Don’t do it, Sin. Just… don’t.”

“I think,” she said, in a soft voice he hadn’t expected, “you’re forgetting that I couldn’t get out of my job if I wanted to.” She dragged her hands through her hair, which glinted with bluish highlights in the sunlight that squeezed between the treetops. “This is pointless. I either go to the hospital and be a prisoner there, with my brothers as jailers, or I go to my den, where at least I’m my own warden.”

“No.” He couldn’t let her go. He couldn’t—

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and an animal growl rose up in his throat before he could stop it. He spun around, instinctively tucking Sin behind him. The sight of Bran standing in the shadows with two male dhampires came with a gut-wrenching blast of dread.

“It’s time, Conall.”

“Con?” Sin tugged on one of his belt loops. “Who are these douche bags?”

Was it wrong for him to want to smile at that? Nah. “The ugly one would be my clan leader,” he said quietly. “Stay here.” He moved to Bran with swift, sure steps. Show no weakness. “I’m not ready.”

“Your state of readiness is irrelevant,” Bran growled. “Our first female has gone into heat. The rest will be ready to breed by the end of the week. We need you.”

The idea of having sex with anyone but Sin made him cold inside. Hell, the very thought of even feedingfrom anyone else made him ill. Which wasn’t a good sign, and somehow, Bran was aware of the reason for Con’s reluctance. His dark gaze zeroed in on Sin, then cut sharply to Con when he stepped in front of the dhampire leader to block the view.

“The Warg Council is on our backs as well.” One of the other males, Enric, if Con remembered right, gestured in the direction of the cabin. “The pricoliciand varcolacboth want our allegiance in their war. We need the Dhampire Council to assemble.”

Con shook his head. “So we refuse to take sides.”

“We’ve already been drawn into it. We have dhampire females mated to pricolici,” Bran said, and Con thought about Sable, hoped she was okay. “Some are fleeing with their families to our lands, and others are dragging dhampires into the conflict.”

Con drew in a ragged breath. He might be able to put off yet another breeding heat, but there was no stalling when it came to a matter of politics and possible war. His people needed him. He’d felt disconnected from them for so long that he could barely consider them his people anymore, but ultimately, he wasa dhampire, and it was time to take the long overdue reins.

The sound of Sin’s heartbeat, so loud and tempting even at this distance, reminded him that it was a very good time to get away from her and fulfill his destiny. But the words wouldn’t come. Yes, I’ll go with you. Yes, I’m ready. Yes, let me bend over and take it up the ass for the dhampire race.

Not a single word formed on his lips.

Bran’s hard gaze zeroed in on Sin. “That is the demon female you’re working with?” His nostrils flared, and he cut quick looks between Sin and Con, and shit… Bran knew Con was teetering on the brink of addiction. Hell, he was probably already over the edge.

“Yes,” Con ground out.

“Is the virus out of your blood?”

Con opened his mouth to say yes, but suddenly, Sin was there. “No,” she said. “One more feeding should do it, though. So whatever you need him for, it can wait.”

“Sin—”

She covertly pinched his ass, shutting him up and nearly making him jump. Bran glared, and when he said nothing, Sin made a shooing motion with her hand. “Run along. Leave us to it.”

Bran practically shook with rage, which, to Con, was a combination of funny and oh-fuck. Finally, Bran snarled, “You have until tomorrow to put your affairs in order, Conall. If we have to seek you out, you’ll be kept in the lunecratefor a year.”

Bran and the males left, and Con let out a soft curse. The lunecratebox was the fun punishment place for dhampires. Shoved inside the iron cage during the full moon, a dhampire was left for three days of madness, unable to hunt, howl, or even move. By the time the dhampire recovered from the trauma, the full moon had come again.

Sin’s hand came up to his shoulder, a tentative, surprisingly gentle touch. He turned into her. “Sin… fuck.”

“Yes.”

Confused, he frowned at her. “What?”

She pressed her curvy body against him, and his body sparked to instant, fierce life. “Make love to me.”

“Right here?” He hoped she didn’t notice how strangled he sounded.

“Well, not this close to the cabin.” She placed her hand over his heart, and the wolf in him howled. “Please. It sounds like you have some sort of crisis to handle, and I have to go, so it might be the last time for a while.”

Or forever. The unspoken truth hung in the air between them, literally visible in the fog of their breath. He still didn’t want to let her go, but Bran’s untimely visit had clarified things. A lot. If Sin went to the hospital, she’d be accessible to him, and he didn’t think he had the willpower to stay away. Going to the den would be best for both of them.