Bear growled low in his throat.
Nate pulled Lily behind him. “He goes with us.”
Wade laughed. “You think you’ve got choices?”
Nate had learned something in the weeks since his mother’s funeral: there were moments when fear froze you, and there were moments when fear made something else happen—something harder than courage, because courage sounded noble and this felt ugly. It felt like a cornered thing baring its teeth.
He met Wade’s eyes and said, “Mom told me not to trust you.”
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