“No.” He circled his thumb over her throat again, increasing the buzz of arousal beneath her skin. “What does this have to do with you? Are you from his pack?”

“No, I’m a volunteer at the shelter.”

He growled, “You’re a loner?”

As his grip tightened—not enough to hurt but enough to reassert his dominance—Makenna sighed. “Okay, I get it. You’re a big, bad, scary wolf, and your proverbial dick is bigger than mine. I’m officially intimidated.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

His mouth moved even closer to her ear, until he was almost nibbling on her lobe. “That’s a lie. I don’t like it when people lie to me. Don’t do it again.”

As Ryan Conner released her and took a single step back, she turned to face him. Big black-flecked cognac eyes that held a hint of something wild met his steadily; they acted as a punch to his gut and heightened the oppressive, sexual need that struck him the moment he’d inhaled her scent.

She was a pretty little thing. Shiny with all those bangles and dangly earrings. Her slender body was supple, sinuous, and fit just right against his own. He itched to fist his hands in her long, beach-layered waves—a mix of gold, copper, dark red, and a hint of plum purple, making him think of autumn leaves.

While she stood there looking quirky and feminine in a vintage maroon dress that showcased smooth tanned legs he wanted wrapped around him, it would be easy to overlook her strength and keen eyes. But Ryan knew when he was looking at something dangerous. There was something almost . . . untamed about the female in front of him.

Officially intimidated by him? He almost snorted. She’d had a hand wrapped around her throat, an aggressive wolf at her back, and been trapped against a wall. Yet, she hadn’t bristled. Hell, her heart rate hadn’t even gone up. He doubted much fazed this female at all. He had the distinct feeling that if he were to attack her, she would go crazy on his ass—not come at him with combat moves but with street-fight moves. Scrappers fought dirty and wild.

The fact that she was a lone shifter should have dulled his arousal. They weren’t to be trusted—it was a well-known fact. His cock didn’t seem to care about that. Nor did the instinct to possess her that was whispering over Ryan like a sensual touch.

The same need for her also rode his wolf. Once, Ryan could have also described his wolf as relatively placid. But after being held captive and tortured by a rival pack many years ago, his wolf had changed. He’d become harder, defensive, and more withdrawn than ever.

One thing had never changed: when the wolf wanted something, he wanted it there and then. He demanded it. And at that moment, he was demanding this female. “Who are you?”

“My name’s Makenna Wray.”

“Why didn’t you come to me sooner about the kid?”

“Zac refused to tell me his surname until a month after I found him. It was a further two months before I could convince him to allow me to attempt to rehome him. I needed time to check out his family tree and research each of his relatives—there aren’t many. You seemed the most suitable guardian. The Phoenix wolves have a reputation for being dangerous and powerful but also loyal and very protective of their own. Zac needs to feel safe and wanted. Right now, he’s convinced that you won’t want him.”

Of course Ryan would want him. He hadn’t been close to Damian and he’d never met the kid, but he was still family. “I’ll take him now.”

Prepared for an angry response, Makenna said, “Um, it’s not gonna work like that.” When he growled, she raised a hand. “Easy, White Fang. Hear me out.” He just stared at her, his watchful eyes giving away none of the anger radiating from him. It was an unsettling stare, yet it didn’t unnerve her. Nor did the menacing vibe he omitted. Instead, she had the sudden urge to poke at him and gain a reaction of some kind. Makenna had to admit she did have an almost pathological desire to antagonize dangerous predators. It was becoming a quest, of sorts.

She went on. “You have to appreciate that although Zac is your family, he doesn’t know you. He doesn’t trust you. And he has absolutely no reason to do so. You’re family, but you’re distant family. You and your pack mates are all strangers to him. His father didn’t even speak of you. If I hadn’t done a background search on Zac, he would never have known the two of you are related. You need to consider all of that.”

Her coolness and formality pricked at Ryan’s patience. There was an authority in her voice—the type that came from someone who didn’t lead others but who was strong enough to stop others from leading them. Ryan was an enforcer, she was a lone wolf . . . and she was speaking to him as if their statuses were reversed. No, she was speaking to him as though their statuses meant nothing.

He inhaled deeply, seeking patience. And instead filled his lungs with her scent. God, that fucking scent . . . wildflowers, black cherries, and innate sensuality layered with a tint of arousal. He could almost taste it on his tongue. So she wasn’t quite as unaffected by him as she seemed.

“He’s worried that you’ll ask me to return him to his pack,” said Makenna. “You should know that I won’t allow that.”

“What happened to him there?”

“Zac won’t speak of it. But he shows all the signs of an abused child, which is why I will do whatever it takes to ensure he never comes in contact with that pack again.”