Free Reach for the Sky (Wolffe Peak Book 1) by Gwen Knight

8
    “Where’s the girl?”
    Wyatt’s head rose at the sound of Bale’s voice. His beta paced into the room and threw himself down into the nearest chair, leg hooked over the armrest. The man looked the picture of ease and grace, which only annoyed Wyatt further. For the past forty minutes, he’d been scouring the Web for any information regarding the three victims. Shane had warned him that they were keeping it quiet, and from the whole whopping squat he’d found, they’d succeeded.
    At one point, he’d considered asking Sky, until he recalled the look of absolute shock when he’d mentioned the three victims. Seemed Shane had a lot to answer for, and he couldn’t imagine the sheriff was looking forward to that conversation.
    “Earth to Wyatt.” Bale waved a hand in front of his face.
    “I don’t know. She’s somewhere,” Wyatt muttered. He shifted in his chair and turned back to the computer, fingers clacking furiously against the keyboard as he ran yet another search.
    “Ah, thanks, I gathered that much.”
    Wyatt cast a tapered glance toward his beta. “Why do you care where she is?”
    A low chuckle graced Bale’s lips. “Oh, you know, maybe because we’re supposed to be protecting her.”
    “There are a dozen werewolves in this house at any given time. I’m sure she’s fine.”
    “Yo.” Bale rapped his knuckles against Wyatt’s mahogany desk. “Have you forgotten that there’s some sick bastard out there gunning for her? Because I sure haven’t.”
    Wyatt sighed and dropped his head into his hands. Of course he hadn’t forgotten—rather, didn’t want to think about it. It ate at him that she was in danger. “What do you want, Bale?”
    “The girl’s on the news. Thought she might want to see, since her life is about to change dramatically.”
    “What?” Wyatt’s head snapped up. “What do you mean she’s on the news?”
    Bale’s mouth quirked. “I mean someone took some not-so-lovely pictures of her house, and they’re airing it live right now.”
    With a mumbled curse, Wyatt snatched his remote off the desk and flicked on the television. He cranked up the volume and leaned forward on his desk, his gut twisting when an image of Sky’s house flashed across his screen.
    A female reporter’s voice kicked in mid-sentence. “… the whereabouts of Werewolf Public Advocate Skylar Callahan are currently unknown —”
    Wyatt blinked. Werewolf public advocate ?
    “ Dios mío .” Bale straightened in his seat and leaned over, elbows perched between his knees. “I knew I recognized her. A man does not forget a woman like her,” he murmured, grinning when he caught Wyatt’s harsh glare. “Ah, I had wondered…”
    “Wondered what, boyo?”
    The corner of Bale’s mouth twitched. “When I saw the two of you together, snapping at each other like children, I had wondered if maybe—”
    “Oh, hell no ,” Wyatt hissed. “That’s a thought process you are not to encourage.” It was bad enough that his wolf craved her; he did not need his men introducing such thoughts to the pack.
    “Is that so? You mean to tell me that we didn’t interrupt anything earlier—”
    “Bale!”
    “All right,” Bale mused as he dropped back into the chair. “So what if she and I…” His brow winged up.
    A raw growl scraped past Wyatt’s lips.
    His beta lifted his hands. “Tell me if she’s off-limits, boss.”
    “She is absolutely, unequivocally off-limits.”
    Bale ran his hand across his lips. “Because…?”
    Wyatt sucked in a sharp breath and whipped the remote control across the room, his jaw setting when it shattered against the wall. “Because I said so. And this topic is closed.” He met his beta’s stare with one of his own, his lip curled back over his teeth.
    “Ah, because that is a sane reaction.”
    Wyatt’s eyes shuttered and he dropped his head into his hands. “Don’t push me, Bale.”
    “Wouldn’t dream of it, boss.”
    His second’s sardonic voice rubbed him