Alfred didn’t wait. The moment he saw the necklace, he dragged me toward the pack house, his grip firm, protective, almost fierce.

“Alfred—slow down,” I said.

“I’m not slowing down,” he replied without looking back. “He shouldn’t be able to touch anything that belongs to you. He shouldn’t be able to cross the border. And he damn sure shouldn’t be able to leave you a message inside my territory.”

His voice wasn’t angry at me. It was fear disguised as ...