"Sarai?" Gavriel's voice was quiet, so quiet. Maybe disbelief, maybe anger, but Arietta watched helplessly as it all passed over his face. Barely a moment, and he wiped the expression clean. "Explain."

Where to begin? Anxiety churned Arietta's stomach. She'd known this was a possibility. That she'd potentially have to explain the situation to the shifters fully, and yet, facing it now...

What happened when it threw him into a rage? She had no way of protecting herself. No way to protect Naya.

Arietta leaned forward on the table, closer to Naya. Ready to yank the cubling to safety. Then she braced herself and said, "it was Sarai's dying wish."

Her words were nothing more than a whisper. She couldn't get herself to push the sound out louder.

Gavriel's hand on the table fisted.

"I worked as a vet tech in the city," she told him carefully. "The company I worked for had a group of shifters under their care. Sarai was one of them."

"In the city?"

Arietta nodded. "For months, I watched them bring in shifters." Arietta hugged her torso. "And Sarai... she wasn't in the best condition when she arrived." Arietta curled a hand over Naya's side. "And then she gave birth."

Gavriel's gaze traced Arietta's hand on Naya. "These shifters—were they there voluntarily?"

Arietta bit her lip. Do it, Ari. "No."

Gavriel's eyes flashed to a yellow-green and then back to brown. "Tell me."

"They call themselves the Freehold Association," she whispered. "On the surface, they're a charity corporation that helps wielders, shifters, and humans find shelter and provide resources as needed to survive."

"And under the surface?"

Arietta glanced over Gavriel's shoulder. Memories of screams, dark smears of blood against white tile, and heavy iron bars in small windowless holding rooms flashing through her mind's eye. "They're much, much worse."

"Are my people still with them?" Gavriel asked in a guttural tone.

As she watched nervously, his eyes kept switching between brown and yellow-green.

She knew enough about the shifters to know that was a sign they were holding back their animal. And yet, somehow, her anxiousness held steady.

Because instead of reacting in the face of a threat, the dark leopard lapping at the small bowl of milk on the table in front of her only rumbled a tiny purr and stretched her front paws. This little creature had so much power over her. This little creature could move armies with a few small yawns.

And she'd do whatever it took to keep her safe. Just as she promised Sarai.

"No," Arietta told Gavriel. "There's... there's no one left." Her sentence ended in a whisper, her heart clenching.

"What. Happened."

Arietta heard his question, but her brain molded it into something else. She countered his question with her own internalized one.

What did he need to know to keep Naya safe?

"Naya's the only one left," she said. Her palm curved over Naya's flank. Protectively. "They were experimenting on a small group of shifters." She met his eyes.

Gavriel's nostrils flared. And then his eyes were nothing but that yellow-green. Animal eyes.

"I had to get her out," she said, knowing she was speaking more to the animal now than the man. "For Sarai. And for Naya." She blinked a stray hair out of her eyes. "I knew I just had to get her across the border. I knew... you would take care of her. Because shifters take care of—" their own.

Naya was Gavriel's family. He'd see her safe. Even without blood ties, the shifters would welcome Naya as her own.

"Sarai was not pregnant when... she left here."

The ache shot from her chest all the way up her throat. "I know." The words barely cleared the air. "Sarai deserved better. They all did. What they did to them—" Arietta remembered her own complacency. The many months she'd worked for the Freehold Association for her own reasons. Her own goals. So she corrected, "What we did to them was monstrous. There are no words to describe the cruelty."

"And yet you are here." Gavriel's tone was so deep that the hairs on her arms stood up. Warning.

Naya chirruped and hopped off the table to Arietta's lap. Her tiny body was warm against the top of Arietta's thighs.

"Give me one reason I should not kill you right now and avenge my people. My sister."

She couldn't. She wouldn't. Because he had every right to.

To her shame, her eyes watered as she thought of the facility she'd smuggled Naya out of. Of all the lifeless animals she'd seen trapped behind cinderblock and bulletproof glass. Of the vitals she'd taken, of the sedated creatures—no, people.

The guilt tasted like iron and bile on her tongue. "I can't." She made herself sit straight. "You have every right to avenge your people. I expect you to." She rubbed a gentle hand over Naya's soft fur. The motion had Naya getting up to peer over the table. She blinked her matching yellow-green eyes at her uncle, her whiskers wiggling as she sniffed the air. Naya mewed. "I only ask that you focus on Naya first."

Slowly, so slowly, Gavriel stood. He towered over her. She tried not to flinch.

Gaze boring into her, Gavriel said, "We are not done with this topic. Until we are, you stay here."

Then he left. And Arietta found it worse that he closed the door softly behind him.

Naya mewed again.

Unable to hold back, Arietta scooped Naya up and clutched her close, the water behind her eyes finally pouring over.

***

Anger and rage boiled through Gavriel's veins. It was everything Arietta said—his people had been in danger. And he had never even known.

Ten years ago, before he had become leader of this territory, the wielders arrived in the dead of night. When they were vulnerable. When they assumed their own strength to be enough to keep enemies away, and foolishly let their guard down.

The wielders had come, killed their people, and burnt the east side of the territory beyond recognition. Including the bodies left in the area.

Gavriel made it two steps down the stairs to the first level and stopped. He rested his forehead on the wooden ladder. Inside, his animal thrashed.

They had assumed. Assumed. Unlike other territories, they had not had the equipment to perform any DNA recognition. They still did not. And they would never send their people's remains off to a lab for testing. It was too risky.

And yet, they had ended up in a lab, regardless.

The emotions threatened to overwhelm him—something that had not happened in years. Like a tidal wave just along the horizon, speeding ever closer. Who among their people had died and who had instead been carted off?

And who was still alive and out there somewhere?

He made his way down to the first level, his bare feet cold against the uneven wood. Two moments. He'd give himself just two moments.

The emotions swallowed him whole. Rage, agony, guilt, grief. It was a potent mix of fire through his bloodstream. Inside him, the leopard roared. His people. He'd let them down and hadn't even known.

And Sarai. His older sister. Whom he'd believed to be dead, killed ten years ago with his parents, just like the others.

She'd been alive.

And he had not even searched for her.

Gavriel took a breath, his nerve endings like live wires.

Then he shut it off. Buried it deep.

He could tell no one until he spoke to the head elders. Until they decided how to proceed. If they were to proceed.

They would proceed. Shifters never left their own behind.

His mind skirted to a halt. Could they even say that anymore, if what Arietta said was true?

Pulling out his cell phone from his jean pocket, he hit speed dial. Just because they couldn't proceed yet did not mean he should not research or collect as much information as possible.

"Gavriel?"

"Miguel, I need a favor." As a hawk, Miguel could go into the city and have more information in just a few hours than any of them. "I need you to swap with Cael for border watch."

"What would you have me do instead?"

"Find the office for a charity in the city—the Freehold Association. Make observations and report back within a few days. We will cover here."

"What should I tell my mate? He will ask questions."

"You can tell Thomas the truth," Gavriel said. "But keep things quiet. Everyone else should think you are simply headed north for a supply run."

"Understood."

Before he hung up, Gavriel thought back to Arietta's words. "Miguel?"

"Yes?"

"Anything feels off, I want you out of there. Send me a text report every two hours."

"You've got it."

Gavriel hung up. Back on the first level, he set his elbows on the low balcony railing outside the entryway. His leopard prowled below the surface, ready to break free the moment his guard went down.

He could not let the beast free. Not in this state. Not until the rage dimmed at the edges and simmered into a dull ache. Then he could have Rolan or Lianna cover the treehouse while he ran until his legs gave out.

The Freehold Association. His enemy had a name. One he could use to learn more about them. A few data searches might tell him some, but he would be more apt to learn the truth from the woman upstairs.

She had not told him everything. There was more to be learned. She kept many secrets still bubbling beneath the surface. Like why she worked for a company, if not aligned with their vision and morals.

He wanted to direct the rage at her. To let it out until it burned her to ash. But...

His leopard gave a low, deadly sound of warning.

... his leopard disagreed. Yet another mystery his human half would have to figure out.

It was clear, even in their brief discussion, that the woman—Arietta—did not agree with what the Freehold Association was doing. Why else would she risk her life to save one of theirs? And Sarai... Sarai would not have given any cubling, hers or not, to anyone she did not explicitly trust.

Gavriel's shoulders dropped. He had mourned the loss of his sister ten years ago, years before he had become leader of the territory. Arietta's words brought that grief to the forefront and amplified it until his chest felt like it had been shattered from the inside.

Sarai, do you trust this woman?

He knew the answer. And it would need to be enough for him. For now.

Gavriel tucked his grief away and buried it with all the rest of the emotions. He needed to be calm, strong, and capable of leading. When this news came out to his people, they would look to him first. They would ask questions.

By then, he would have the answers. Even if it meant ripping them from the woman upstairs.

For now, he would welcome the cubling, his niece, home. He would celebrate the expansion of his own family.

Meanwhile, he would clutch the thread that settled low in his stomach. The one that whispered in low tones and made sweet, dark, fiery promises.

Revenge.