  &quot;I ... umm. He ll kill us if we don t take … umm… I don t know what went down, but I ll have to see for myself what Juan says about this.&quot; Deacon is at a loss for words and I can feel every ounce of his bravado slipping away. He visibly swallows as he realizes he just questioned his possible leader, and I swear he almost sits on the ground the way his legs seem to twitch momentarily.
  &quot;I ll kill you if you touch her. So, there s that.&quot; Colton reiterates with a head nod and shrug. I shake my head at Deacon, disgusted with the weakness I see before me, and smothered in confidence as my own temper ignites. 
  &quot;Not so tough when you don t have me disabled and stuck alone in a glass room, are you?&quot; I snarl, moving out fully from behind Colton, half expecting him to hush me and send me back, but he doesn t. He turns to me slightly, catches my eyes with his glow

  We re sitting in a study with a large double bed in the corner that looks completely out of place in an alcove, as though it s a new addition, with the sub pack eerily quiet as they all absorb everything we showed them outside. Sat in slightly dazed moods as we all digest the truth of our combined memories.
  It s a small room with a bay window, a large couch, and an armchair cozily nestled in front of a rustic fireplace. A large handmade desk sits off to the side, just in the nook of the window space, facing inward with a worn chair tucked behind. There s an entire wall lined with dark stained bookcases, crammed full of old leather-bound journals of varying shades of tan, brown, and black, with no titles on display and I wonder what exactly is contained within the aged pages for them to bear no mark. There are oddities, and bottles of all kinds nestled among them, and facing that wall

  It s Deacon, I can smell him.
  He surprises me with the low, husky hostility in our link and I blink, stomach turning itself in knots as I realize what he just said. Trying to ignore the tone of a killer in his undercurrent because I know Colton is a seasoned warrior, and I m about to see it for myself for a second time.
  How do you know what Deacon smells like?
  I blanch, looking from Colton to the truck and trying to figure out how we would know that unless he knew him. He couldn t have gotten scent from my projected memories. I mean, Deacon is a Santo, but if he s been at the facility for years, then I assumed Colton would have been a boy and not really known him. Deacon is older by maybe ten years, and I don t recall pulling him from any of his memories, but then again, I haven t looked. 
  That asshole and his pack snuck off into God knows where after his father died, but I kno

&quot;I ... umm. He ll kill us if we don t take … umm… I don t know what went down, but I ll have to see for myself what Juan says about this.&quot; Deacon is at a loss for words and I can feel every ounce of his bravado slipping away. He visibly swallows as he realizes he just questioned his possible leader, and I swear he almost sits on the ground the way his legs seem to twitch momentarily.
  &quot;I ll kill you if you touch her. So, there s that.&quot; Colton reiterates with a head nod and shrug. I shake my head at Deacon, disgusted with the weakness I see before me, and smothered in confidence as my own temper ignites. 
  &quot;Not so tough when you don t have me disabled and stuck alone in a glass room, are you?&quot; I snarl, moving out fully from behind Colton, half expecting him to hush me and send me back, but he doesn t. He turns to me slightly, catches my eyes with his glowing amber ones, and then slides aside to encourage me to come closer. I guess because he knows Deaco

chapter 57