“I should be able to. But if they’ve used a proxy to do it anonymously, it will take a little time—even with Donovan’s help. And if you’re expecting us to trace the IP address of every single person who uploaded something, it could take months. I mean, look, there’s a whole library of these clips.” Rhett scrolled down a page that listed hundreds of videos. “It might be best to just try to get the list of subscribers and track them down that way.”

“Wait,” said Nick, “go back up a second. There.” He pointed to a certain clip. Curious, Roni leaned forward to get a better look at the freeze-frame image of a video titled “Humans get mauled by wolf.” At Rhett’s click, it enlarged, clearly showing a young female being restrained by an older human boy. The female looked wild, petrified, and enraged. It was . . . it was Roni.

CHAPTER SIX

Her stomach dropped, and her brain . . . it was like it stopped working. Roni was conscious that everyone around her was talking at once, aware that Nick was close to losing his mind and she should probably calm him down. But Roni couldn’t. Rage was coursing through her, heating her up from the inside, demanding an outlet.

Her wolf didn’t understand what was happening, but she responded to Roni’s anger—lunging for the surface, wanting to shift and eradicate the threat she couldn’t see.

She needed to get out of that room.

Turning on her heel, Roni raced through the tunnels, out of the caves, and into the surrounding forest. She wasn’t sure how long she ran, but she eventually stopped. Unfortunately, the run hadn’t been an adequate outlet for the rage. It was still there, bubbling, wanting out, making her lungs ache and her breath leave her body in short, anxiety-filled pants. Her wolf was frantic with the need to act, to protect, to defend—her wild agitation only served to feed Roni’s anger.

She punched the nearest tree over and over until her knuckles were bleeding, but the rage still didn’t ease. Nor did her wolf’s attempts to shift. Scrunching a hand in her hair, Roni let her head fall back, sucking in mounds of air in an effort to get her breathing under control. Roni wasn’t quick to anger, but when it happened, she found it extremely hard to calm down, especially with her wolf’s emotions mingled so closely with hers.

Roni had known about the video, of course. The recording had been the evidence Nick needed to prove that he attacked the humans in the defense of both him and her as opposed to cold-blooded murder. Having been tagged as evidence, she’d assumed it was locked up somewhere. Apparently someone had found a way to get a hold of it, because now it was up on a website for shifters all over the world to see. As shame and horror added to the rage curdling inside her, she once again punched the tree.

“Roni.”

She spun to face Marcus, who stood several feet away. “I want to be alone.” The stubborn wolf didn’t move. “Go.”

“No.” As if he’d let her be alone at a time like this. She didn’t know it, but she hadn’t been alone for even one second. Marcus had followed her through the tunnels and out of the caves, staying a safe distance behind her as she ran—giving her solace, but keeping close. “You might think you want to be alone, but you don’t. And that’s not a weakness.”

A tremor ran through Roni as his smooth tone slid over her, soothing her . . . but it also stirred her senses in a major way. “I’m not a good person to be around right now.” Restless with dark energy that had nowhere to go, she began pacing back and forth.

Marcus took slow steps toward her. He could see how close to the edge she was, see brief flashes of her wolf in her eyes—an indication that, at this moment, the animal’s emotions were heightening hers. He’d never before met anyone who was so closely gelled to their wolf. He could see now how it would be a curse at times.

His own wolf was pacing in distress, wanting to go to Roni and soothe her. He also wanted to rip apart the fucker who was responsible for her distress—and Marcus knew right then that both he and his wolf would kill for this female. Up close to her now, Marcus gently put his hand on her arm. “Roni? Look at me, sweetheart.”

Pausing midstride, she found Marcus standing before her, so masculine and solid and unnerving. He could help, she thought as her gaze settled on his unfairly erotic mouth. She had no idea what he was saying; she couldn’t concentrate on his words because all she could think about was having that mouth on hers again. Her wolf agreed. Yes, this male would give her what she needed—an outlet, a way to take the edge off her anger. But that would be using him like a human Valium, and Roni wasn’t comfortable with that. She forced her eyes away from his mouth and took a single step backward. “You need to go.”

Nothing in the world could have made him leave her. Even if Marcus had wanted to, his protective instincts wouldn’t have allowed it. What he wanted to do was hold her, but he knew Roni well enough to know that physical affection would simply make her uncomfortable. He didn’t know how to help her, and it was making him crazy—every instinct he had told him to do something. He covered the distance she’d created between them. “I’m staying, sweetheart.”

That slow, languid drawl was unintentionally seductive—he was there to comfort and calm her, Roni knew. But that wasn’t what she wanted right then, it wasn’t what her wolf wanted. Roni’s eyes once again settled on his mouth, remembering how talented and hungry it had been. She gave a quick shake of the head, hoping to shake off those thoughts. “Really, Marcus, you need to go.”

“Why?”

The truth burst out of her. “Because I like to fuck when I’m angry!”

Just like that, the atmosphere changed, thickened, and became charged with that same old sexual tension that never seemed far away.

“I know that’s not normal,” she continued. “I know most people like to be cuddled and all that stuff. Not me. No. I like to fuck—hard, fast, rough, and deep. In which case, you really need to go.” Or she’d use him, just like so many females had used him before, and then she’d hate herself for doing it because he wasn’t the shallow smooth-talker she’d thought he was. He knew he looked good and knew how to use that raw charisma to get what he wanted. But he wasn’t vain or arrogant or superficial. He had much more emotional depth than she’d given him credit for. He was . . . good.