Chapter One

W y att wasn't sure why his gut told him to go upstairs when he'd driven Cannon to Paris's apartment. His coworker and friend had told him he'd be back down in a minute. A feeling of unease had gripped him, making Wyatt get out of his car.

Now he stood in the open doorway of the unit, stunned at the scene in front of him. What the hell? The apartment was a disaster, with blood on the floor and splattered on the wall. There was even a body-sized imprint in the drywall, the edges deeply indented.

Entering slowly, he saw Cannon on his knees, a small red fox in his arms. Wyatt's heart clenched. Cannon was crying heavily. The fox wasn't moving. Wyatt couldn't even see its chest moving. Was Paris dead?

"Is…is he…?" Wyatt gripped the guy's shoulder tightly, unsure what to say or do. The sight threw him back in time to when he'd held his sister in his arms, wailing uncontrollably at her senseless death. He shook his head, desperately trying to dislodge that thought from his mind. Now wasn't the time to think of Andrea.

A tiny noise wheezed out of the fox. Cannon's head shot back as he stared down at the animal. As he checked the fox, Wyatt looked across the room and saw Negan lying there, his eyes staring blankly at them.

That troublemaking son of a bitch had something to do with this. The pieces clicked together in Wyatt's head.

"Negan is lying over there in a pool of blood." A deadly growl rumbled in Wyatt's throat. "The son of a bitch knew you were looking for him and used the opportunity to strike."

The human had been a straight-up menace. Wyatt couldn't count how many times he'd arrested the piece of shit. The only person who would mourn Negan's death would be his own mother.

Cannon set the fox onto the cushions of the couch then lifted the small red panda and did the same. Flashes of Wyatt's past kept surfacing. He needed to focus on something else to purge Andrea from his mind.

"The smell of blood is fucking with my senses." Wyatt pressed the back of his hand against his nose. "I'm gonna call this in. Check Negan and make sure he's dead."

Cannon's lip curled as he snarled, "If he's clinging to life, I'm ending him."

If Cannon didn't, Wyatt would. The human had shown up at the apartment and tried to kill Cannon's mate. Only, instead, Paris and Alister had taken Negan down. Good for them.

Wyatt stepped into the hallway then closed his eyes, fighting to erase his past from his mind as he pulled out his phone.

"Sheriff Harper," his boss said when he answered.

"It's pretty bad." Wyatt stared toward the ceiling and swallowed. "Paris's apartment is trashed. Negan is dead, and Paris and Alister are in their animal forms, healing."

Dominic let out a slew of curses. "I'm on my way. Secure the scene so Paris's neighbors can't get an eyeful. I'll send some deputies your way, too. I'll also get the coroner out of bed."

"We'll be here." Wyatt hung up and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. It wasn't often he saw someone weeping for a lost loved one. Whenever he did, Andrea plagued his thoughts. But this wasn't just anyone. It was Cannon's mate who'd been hurt, as well as Paris's best friend.

After taking two more long breaths, Wyatt headed back inside the unit, forcing himself to concentrate on the present instead of the past.

"Deputies are on the way," he said. "The coroner has been dispatched, too." He hunkered down next to Cannon, thankful he had something to focus on. "They kicked his fucking ass. Those short shits weren't messing around. Look how deeply that blade goes in. Some of the handle is buried in his neck. Those two just impressed the hell out me."

Wyatt really was amazed the two had done this kind of damage. They were shifters, stronger than Negan, but from the looks of the apartment, the fight had been brutal. Even though Paris and Alister were stronger than humans, they were small in stature, and Wyatt wouldn't have pegged them as fighters.

"I won't be able to breathe easy until my mate shifts into his human form and I know he's okay." Cannon straightened and walked toward a short hallway.

As soon as his friend was out of sight, the red panda stirred and shifted back to his human form. Alister appeared dazed as he sat there, his black hair disheveled. He blinked several times before finally looking at Wyatt with his pale blue eyes.

Fuck, the guy was stone-cold beautiful. That wasn't an appropriate thought to have considering the circumstances, but it was the damn truth.

"You're safe, butterfly." Wyatt made sure to use a calm and soothing voice. "I'm Deputy Birch, but call me Wyatt. Can you tell me what happened here?"

Alister shook his head, his eyes wide as his gaze bounced all around as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. As though he had no clue what had taken place in the apartment.

Beneath the overwhelming scent of blood, Wyatt was hit with a sweet and powerful strike to his senses, an intoxicating aroma that reminded him of nature's perfume. Vivid memories swirled through his mind, transporting him back to his days as a playful cub, carefree and full of energy, bounding through the forest with his sister by his side. It was a time when the world had still been kind and his innocence hadn't been shattered by the cruel realities of life.

Wyatt's cheetah purred softly inside of him, as though his cat knew this wasn't the time to become aroused.

Alister was his mate, but this wasn't Wyatt's first time meeting the little red panda. He'd shown up on scene when Alister and Negan had been arguing outside of Deep Dish.

Why hadn't Wyatt felt the pull then like he did now?

"I blacked out." Alister looked up at him from under thick lashes, still appearing dazed.

"That's all you remember?" Wyatt asked softly just as Cannon came from the hallway, clothes gripped in one hand.

After blinking several times, Alister burst out crying as his gaze swept over the room. "I opened the door and then hit the floor. I didn't even have a chance to see or smell who it was. I just recall immense pain in my head, and then everything is blank from there!" He brushed his shaky hand over the fox lying next to him, as though touching Paris reassured him that his best friend was alive. "I thought it was Cannon coming to pick up Paris."

"It was Negan," Wyatt said gently.

Alister's eyebrows shot up, and then furrowed. "But I haven't spoken to him since our argument about the thirty dollars he owed me! Why would he come here and do all this?"

Wyatt had been arresting Negan for the past fifteen years. If there was one thing he knew about the piece of shit, it was that Negan was extremely vindictive. He probably came by the apartment to get payback for being arrested.

"Negan texted me afterward, but I never responded." He looked over his shoulder and saw Cannon. "Oh god! You must hate me. I should have checked first, but I swear I thought it was you at the door. I allowed Negan inside because I was careless. I'm so sorry."

It was killing Wyatt to see Alister so distressed. His arms ached to envelope his mate in them and chase away the world. Wyatt was all too familiar with guilt. He'd lived with it for over 176 years. Lived with it since the night he'd been too late to save Andrea.

"Go get dressed, Alister," Wyatt said. "I can hear footsteps coming up the stairs. That should be the deputies arriving."

Wyatt already felt the need to attack Cannon for being near Alister while the guy was naked. If more men entered the room, Wyatt wasn't sure he would be able to keep his shit together. His mate had already been through something traumatic, and Alister didn't need to see Wyatt lose it.

When Alister reached Negan's dead body, he jumped back, slapping a hand over his mouth. Wyatt shot off the table and gripped his mate's shoulders, turning Alister so he wouldn't have to see Negan any longer.

After Alister spoke to Cannon, Wyatt led his mate to his bedroom and closed the door behind them. He didn't want to let the guy go, but did so when he helped Alister sit on the bed. His mate's petite body trembled, and he rubbed his hands over his upper arms. Wyatt wanted to be the one who rubbed them, the one who comforted his mate.

That deep, primal urge overwhelmed Wyatt, but he walked toward the dresser instead.

"I was useless." Alister wiped at his eyes. "If Negan hadn't attacked me as soon as I answered the door, I could have helped Paris fight him."

Wyatt rummaged through dresser drawers and grabbed a pair of shorts, a sparkly purple shirt, and some underwear. For a brief moment, he stood there, gripping the clothes in his hand. Then he took a deep breath to center himself. Alister needed strength right now, not a snarly beast.

"No one knew he was going to show up." Wyatt walked back to the bed and pulled Alister up long enough to help him dress. Immediately after, Alister sank back down. "It was a setup. Negan damaged Cannon's truck, knowing Cannon would come after him."

"That still doesn't make me feel any better." Alister hugged himself, seeming so damn lost. "Paris was left all alone to fight him. I'm well aware preternatural are a lot stronger than humans, but Paris isn't a fighter. There's no telling what Negan did to him before Paris killed him."

Wyatt squatted in front of his mate, taking Alister's small, slim hands into his larger ones. His skin was soft. "The only thing that matters is you and Paris survived and Negan died."

Alister glanced toward his bedroom door as he squeezed Wyatt's hands. "I can hear people in the living room. Go talk to them."

"I'd rather stay here with you." Wyatt stood and sat next to Alister, forcing his hands to stay in his lap instead of circling around his mate. "You still seem shaken, butterfly."

"Why did you call me that?" Alister gazed up at Wyatt, his eyes still watery from crying.

Wyatt shrugged. "It just popped into my head, but it fits you."

"Please," Alister said. "Go see what's happening. I need a moment to myself."

"I'll be right back." Reluctantly, Wyatt left the room, making sure the door was closed. He spoke with Sheriff Harper and then found Cannon in Paris's bedroom.

His friend looked in bad shape as he gazed at the fox in the center of the bed. What Negan had done was devastating to Paris and Alister, but it was Paris who'd fought Negan, who'd killed the human.

Wyatt talked with Cannon for a moment, telling his friend to stop torturing himself when the lion shifter speculated on what happened. No one would know until Paris woke up and told them.

They spoke for a moment, but all Wyatt wanted to do was get back to Alister. Regardless of his mate saying he needed a moment; the guy was dealing with too much. When Cannon asked how Alister was doing, Wyatt lied.

He wasn't sure why, either. Maybe because he wanted Cannon to focus on his own mate right now. Maybe because it wasn't anyone's business what Wyatt and Alister talked about.

When Paris shifted into his human form and became hysterical, Wyatt excused himself and went back to Alister's bedroom. His mate stood by the window, now dressed, and stared out into the darkness. "I-I don't want to stay here."

"Come stay with me." There was no way Wyatt would let his mate remain in the apartment when it looked like a warzone. Alister already seemed fragile, and Wyatt wasn't going to let his mate be alone.

Turning, Alister looked him over. "Except for a brief encounter, we don't know each other. Why would you offer to let me stay with you?"

Alister had to be in shock if he didn't feel the pull. His mind was too focused on tonight's event, on his best friend, and more than likely struggling with the fact he and Paris could have died.

Wyatt started to answer, but Cannon knocked and told them his mate was ready to talk. Alister breathed deeply before they went to Paris's bedroom and listened to the fox shifter tell them how he'd fought off Negan, his only goal to save Alister.

As Paris recounted what had taken place, Wyatt pulled Alister into his side, trying his best to give his mate comfort as his little red panda softly cried.

Listening to how hard the fox shifter had fought already had Wyatt's teeth grinding. His mind played the scene Paris described, and Wyatt wished to god he could bring Negan back from the dead to kill the human himself.

Every shifter in the room probably wanted the opportunity.

Alister ran from the room when Paris said he was stabbed in the chest. Wyatt went after his mate. Before he entered Alister's bedroom, he clenched his jaw as he glanced back at Paris, wishing he could erase what happened tonight. He locked eyes with Cannon and then turned and entered Alister's bedroom.

"Paris has been saving me from myself for forty years," Alister sobbed when Wyatt closed the bedroom door. "Tonight he nearly died protecting me from that monster. I can't keep putting Paris through this." He started hyperventilating as he looked wildly around. "I'll take you up on your offer, Wyatt. I can't stay here, and I'm not going with Paris and Cannon."

Alister was heading straight for an anxiety attack. Wyatt had seen it too many times before in traumatized victims. The look that said there was no escape, that their mind couldn't take it anymore.

Wyatt wrapped his arms around his mate, holding him closely as Alister took a shuddering breath. His arms slowly curled around Wyatt's waist, his fingers flexing and relaxing against Wyatt's lower back.

His entire life Wyatt had looked after his sister. Not because it was his responsibility as her older brother, but because he'd loved Andrea more than life itself.

Even after they'd both matured, Wyatt never stopped looking after her. He'd always felt like he'd been put on the planet to keep her safe and happy. Andrea's laugh could light up a room, and her smile melted hearts.

Now it was Alister who needed him, and Wyatt wasn't going to fail this time.

"Do you have anything to pack with?" Wyatt leaned back enough to look at his mate.

"There's luggage in my closet." Alister hugged himself as Wyatt retrieved a dazzling red suitcase and brought it to the bed. The two of them spent the next fifteen to twenty minutes packing. Wyatt had to retrieve another piece of luggage when they ran out of room in the first one.

If it was up to Wyatt, he would pack all of Alister's belongings. His mate wasn't coming back to this apartment. Negan had destroyed the feeling of safety in the unit, had stripped away any happy memories Alister and Paris shared living there.

Now the apartment only represented pain.

While Cannon was still in Paris's bedroom, Wyatt and Alister went downstairs. He helped his mate into the car then tossed both pieces of luggage into his trunk.

The agony in Alister's features lessened as Wyatt drove farther away from the building. It was as if Negan's black mark lifted since Alister was no longer surrounded by the brutal scene and the cloying smell of blood.

Since Wyatt lived on the edge of town, the drive didn't take long. He pulled down his street, passing his neighbors' darkened windows. By the time he parked in his driveway, it was two in the morning.

"Are you sure this won't be any trouble for you?" Alister asked. "I don't want to be a burden."

"If I make an offer, I mean it." Wyatt shut the car off and popped the trunk. "You're not a burden, sweetheart."

When he opened his door, Alister followed suit, but Wyatt refused to let his mate carry any luggage inside. As they walked through the house, Wyatt turned on the lights. Then he showed Alister to the guest bedroom.

"It's not snazzy like yours is, but you're welcome to add your flare to it." Wyatt set the luggage by the dresser. When he'd bought the house, he'd almost turned the guest room into a weight room. Now he was glad he hadn't, though he never imagined he would give the room to his emotionally distraught mate.

"I'm not sure how much you know about me, but for once, I'm glad I'm not blindly trusting a red flag." Alister stepped into the room and lay his hand on the top of the dresser. "You're a cop and Cannon's friend, so I don't have to worry about my broken asshole detector leading me into another disastrous situation."

Wyatt smirked. "I'm a huge red flag and an asshole."

Alister's brows shot up. "But you're a deputy. Other than threatening to arrest me the day we met, you've been really nice to me."

"I wasn't always a deputy." Wyatt leaned his ass against the door frame and folded his hands in front of himself. "I'm 209 years old, butterfly. That's plenty of time to fuck things sideways before I got my life together."

"I'm the opposite." Alister sat on the bed and ran his hand over the cream comforter. "My entire life my parents sheltered me from the world. Even after I matured, they refused to let me leave. They said they were only trying to protect me, but when they were killed, I was left to fend for myself in a world I knew nothing about."

"Come with me." Wyatt held his hand out, and Alister took it. He led his mate to the kitchen. "How were they killed?" He filled a tea kettle and placed it on the stove, lighting the burner beneath it.

"We lived in a remote area, and I used to sneak out and run through the forest. It was the only freedom I'd ever had back then." Alister sat at the table. "It was my way of rebelling."

"So you're a rebel." Wyatt chuckled.

"Hardly." Alister laughed, the sound lighting up his face and making him even more beautiful than he already was. "I never strayed too far, because they'd filled my head with so many horrific stories about the world outside our door. Once a week, groceries were delivered. My parents would never let me answer the door. But the same night they were delivered, my mom and dad would go for a run."

Wyatt grabbed two mugs then placed a teabag in each, hoping the tea not only helped Alister to relax, but to sleep, too.

"My resentment toward them had been building, so one night I followed them. I stayed far enough behind so they wouldn't know I was there," Alister went on. "They ran into a demon. The only reason I knew what the stranger was, was because my dad shouted the word to my mom. The demon used his powers and yanked my mom and dad off their feet, dangling them midair. The look of satisfaction in his eyes as he tortured them still haunts me."

After pouring hot water into each cup, Wyatt brought them to the table and set them down before he slid into the chair next to Alister's.

"I stayed hidden under a clump of bushes, too terrified to help them. It had to be close to twenty minutes, though it felt like an eternity, before he killed them and then vanished."

"I'm sorry you witnessed that." Wyatt placed his hand over Alister's, pain and anger in his mate's eyes.

With a deep sigh, Alister took the mug with his free hand and blew across the rising steam. "It was forty years ago. I stayed in the woods all night, too terrified to come out. That's when a red fox found me and took me under his wing."

"Paris."

Alister nodded. "I was thrust into the real world, woefully unprepared and tragically na?ve."

Wyatt had heard a little about Alister, enough to make him steer clear of the guy, even after Cannon and Morgan had told Wyatt that Alister was interested in him.

Now he wished he'd hadn't dodged Alister, because it was possible Wyatt could have stopped Negan from attacking them.

But he wasn't going to blame himself for not being there. Alister was alive, in his home, and safe. That was all that mattered to him now.