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She stared at him in silence, a flicker of surprise in her eyes. “You wanted me?” She gave a small shake of her head, dismissing the idea with a quiet laugh. “As I recall it, through all your travels and exploits at the time, there was hardly a woman you met that you didn’t eventually charm out of her virtue.”

“But not you. And you were the only one I loved,” he confessed, too late to bite it back.

He and Conlan had been friends for years, neighbors for even longer. They’d defended their lands together, rode into battles as a single force, as brothers. But as close as they’d been on the field and in duty, the two Breed males couldn’t have been more different. Malcolm craved adventure and was always ready to chase it. Conlan was the steady one, the reliable one. The one most deserving of an extraordinary female like Danika.

Mal could still picture the night he and Con first saw her—the golden, Nordic beauty and adopted daughter of a powerful Darkhaven leader from Copenhagen. She was in Scotland on sojourn, independent even then, a mere girl of eighteen, staying with Breed relations in Edinburgh. Mal had wasted no time making introductions, seeking to impress her with stories of his travels all over the world and his dangerous exploits.

But it was Conlan who eventually won her over. Calm and considerate, steady Con.

“You were so unsettled, always unpredictable,” she remarked now. “You would have broken my heart.”

“Probably,” he admitted. “But I was an idiot then. I didn’t realize what you meant to me until Con confided that you and he were to be mated.”

She swallowed, scarcely breathing now. “I never knew.”

“Would it have made a difference if you had?”

Her eyes fell away from him for a moment, considering. “No, it wouldn’t have. Conlan was a good man, a good mate to me through all our time together. I loved him completely. I always will.”

Mal nodded, even though the words tasted bitter. “He honored you well. As I knew he would.”

Danika reached for him now, her fingertips light on his clenched jaw. “Con’s gone, and I’m still alive. I still mourn him, but I can’t tell you that my heart isn’t glad to be looking at you now, Malcolm. I won’t deny that it feels good to be touching you, to be lying here with you, like this. I didn’t realize how alone I’ve felt this past year until I had your arms around me.” She stroked his scarred cheek, the pad of her thumb brushing tenderly over the poorly healed knife wound. “Conlan’s not the only one you feel you’re betraying here tonight, is he?”

He turned his head to avoid the contact, wishing he could avoid reliving the failure that earned him that brutal gash. Before Danika had a chance to prod his mind for answers, he mentally slammed the gate down hard on his past. Locked it behind a wall of cold fury. “I don’t want to talk about that, Dani.”

“You have an unfinished nursery upstairs,” she murmured, sitting up with him when he started to move away from her on the bed. “You obviously don’t live here anymore, or haven’t in quite some time. And even though I can tell you’re blocking me from your mind right now, downstairs in the kitchen, your thoughts gave away that you lost someone you loved. I know you’re grieving and angry—”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it,” he snapped harshly. “All of that is personal.”

She exhaled a quiet scoff. “There’s nothing more personal than what we shared tonight. How can telling me about your past—about the mate it’s obvious you loved and lost—be more intimate than this?”

“Because the less you know, the safer it will be for you.” He swung his feet to the floor. “I have to go. I’ve been away from the club for too long.”

Danika swung off the bed before he could, putting herself in front of him. Her hands were on his shoulders, her eyes searching his. “How long have you been plotting to kill Reiver?”

Mal hissed a curse. “Just drop it, Dani.”

He felt her push harder at his mind. A determined prod, and then she was inside his thoughts, pulling the truth out of him against his will. “Seven months,” she