Sienna’s mouth tightened and her lashes swept down and then back up in a slow blink. “How long has he known? And why hasn’t his memory been wiped?”
Her lack of surprise sent a prickle of suspicion through Warrick. Was it possible that her father was the one who’d informed Sienna of their existence?
“Kevin Peters has been working for the P.I.A. since before you or I were even born, Sienna. His genius IQ and reputation within the scientific community led to the government’s recruitment of him.”
Now the shock came. Tension had Sienna’s body rigid, even as her eyes rounded and her mouth fell open.
“He worked with you guys? That’s impossible,” she croaked. “I would have known. Daniel would’ve known.”
“Of course you wouldn’t have. It wasn’t possible for him to tell either of you.”
Her head swung back and forth in denial. “Did my mother know?”
Sienna’s mother had been dead for almost ten years now. And an airtight contract should’ve made it clear Kevin Peters must keep his mouth shut. But he wouldn’t have been the first human who worked for the shifters to secretly confide in his spouse. Even though the consequences were severe and the spouse’s memory would be immediately wiped if it were discovered.
“She shouldn’t have known,” he finally said.
Tears welled up in her eyes and she bit her lip, looking away. Something inside Warrick twisted with guilt. His fingers curled, itching to reach for her and pull her into his arms. To do something to erase the confusion and pain in her gaze.
“Donovan.”
Warrick’s muscles went taut and he flexed his jaw as he stood from the bed and turned to face Larson. The alpha and leader of their unit stood in the doorway, his mouth drawn tight and his eyes narrowed with fury.
“Get your ass outside. Now.”
Without glancing back at Sienna, Warrick muttered, “I’ll clean up the blood when I get back.” And then walked from the room, following Larson out of the house.
The acrid smell of burning flesh greeted his nostrils before he spotted the rest of his unit surrounding the burning body out near the barn. His gut kicked with guilt and he closed his eyes for a moment.
“It’s procedure.” Larson came up silently from behind. “But then you know that. To burn the body of a deceased shifter to avoid discovery.”
Warrick nodded, but he hardly needed the reminder. The shifter was dead because of him. And without even having to think about it, he knew he’d make the choice to save Sienna again in a heartbeat.
“I’m not sure I even need to tell you how badly you’ve fucked up, Donovan.”
“No, sir. You don’t.”
“You chose a goddamned human over one of your kind,” Larson shouted anyway. “Already our numbers are dwindling and our existence is endangered. It’s forbidden to kill a shifter. You just don’t fucking do it, Warrick.”
Warrick drew in a slow breath, trying to hold back his temper and the wolf that was coming to rise inside him again. “He was feral. He would’ve killed her.”
“Then you should’ve let him.”
“The hell I should’ve,” Warrick snarled and spun around, fists clenched so he wouldn’t punch the alpha. “Tell me you wouldn’t have done the same.”
“Perhaps if the woman was my mate,” Larson admitted just as fiercely, shoving Warrick against the wall. “Sienna’s a human. She is not, and never will be, your mate. Got it? Never. Not if you have half a brain, that is.”
A slow tic started in Warrick’s jaw as he wanted to argue, wanted to smash his fist into the alpha’s snarling face. Fuck, he was already in enough trouble. What the hell was wrong with him? He scrambled for a way to justify his actions. Anything that would prove to Larson—and himself—that there was no emotional attachment to Sienna.
“Kevin Peters would’ve never forgiven us if we had let something happen to her. He’s a huge part of this organization—regardless of the fact that he’s human. We protect our own, Larson.”
“Sienna isn’t one of us.”
Warrick shook free from his grip. “Yeah, well, her father pretty much is.”
“Let’s just hope that reasoning flies with the elders.” Larson flashed a hard smile and stepped away. “They’re sending Quinton out in the morning.”
A chill of foreboding slid down Warrick’s spine at the name, but he was careful not to show any reaction. Instead he replied flatly, “Good. Perhaps he can be a voice of reason with this.”
Larson scrubbed a hand down his face, but not before Warrick spotted the wary bitterness. “We’re finished here, Donovan. What’s done is done. We’ll figure out the consequences in the morning.”