Logan's pov

I sit on the edge of the couch, watching Freddie try to sleep, his breathing uneven, and my wolf, Steel, stirs inside me, restless, pushing me to do something, anything, to fix this. He’s been growling in my head all night, frustrated that we’re just sitting here while someone threatens Freddie, one of our pack.

“We should be out there, tracking whoever’s doing this,” Steel says, his voice sharp in my mind, “not waiting for them to come to us.”

“We don’t know ...