Savage Urges (The Phoenix Pack, #5)(19)

“Maybe not, but we have to be sure.”

Myles scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “They’re visiting relatives in Canada. They’ll be back Friday.”

“We’ll come to your territory Saturday morning to talk with them,” said Trey, his tone nonnegotiable.

Myles tucked his hands in his pockets and shuffled from foot to foot. “What if they don’t want to talk to you?”

Trey cocked a brow. “If they believe the rumors are true, I would think they’d want to tell us what they know.”

“You’ll kill him, won’t you?”

“If he’s guilty, he doesn’t deserve to live.”

“No, he damn well doesn’t,” agreed Myles with a sneer.


By the time Makenna arrived at the shelter the next morning, the residents were just finishing breakfast. They then headed to either work, job interviews, school, or the common room. And that was when Makenna did what she’d been doing each day since Dawn had agreed for her to remain in the shelter many years ago: she began her designated chores.

Aided by some of the staff, she cleaned the kitchen, wiped down the cafeteria tables, and mopped the floor. Following that, she checked on each of the new residents, making sure they were settling in and asking for names of any family they would trust to take them in.

After a light lunch, she headed to Dawn’s office to use her computer. There, she ran searches on each of the names that the new residents gave her, hoping to electronically track their whereabouts. She was halfway through the list when Colton called the office phone. “Hello.”

“We have visitors. They’re asking for you.”

Curious, Makenna left the office and made her way to the reception area. Colton and Madisyn were there, watching curiously as three unfamiliar females studied the décor while chatting among themselves. Several boxes were at their feet. Makenna cleared her throat to get their attention.

They each pivoted, smiling. They didn’t look at all alike; one was tall and slim, the second was a very curvy brunette, and the third a peroxide blonde who was rather tan-tastic. Submissive wolves, she sensed.

The tall one smiled brightly. “You must be Makenna. It’s great to meet you.”

The brunette nodded. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”

Confused, Makenna said, “Um . . . I’m sorry. Who are you?”

Putting a hand to her chest, the tall one replied, “Oh, I’m Lydia”—she put a hand on the brunette’s shoulder—“this is Grace, and that’s Hope. We’re from the Phoenix Pack. We’re here to help.”

“Help how?” The door opened as Dante and two other males filed inside carrying boxes, garbage bags, and . . . “Paintings?”

Lydia’s smile turned even brighter. “I thought it would be nice to spruce up the place. Give it some color. Jaime was right, the place has a lot of warmth.”

The burly male with claw marks on one side of his face inclined his head at Makenna. “I’m Trick.”

The hot blond beside him with a hint of mischief in his eyes flashed her a flirtatious grin. “Hey, I’m Dominic.”

Makenna nodded. “Ah, the enforcer who sends Zac dirty jokes.”

“Actually, I’m a freelance gynecologist. When was your last checkup?”

“Dominic,” chastised Grace.

Makenna’s chuckle cut off as the door again opened and Taryn, Jaime, and Ryan entered. The very second Ryan’s eyes found hers, a tingle of pleasure shot down her spine. The raw need building inside her was live and electric. In spite of herself, she wondered how it would feel to have him in her, over her, taking her. She would bet all his natural intensity translated into hard, rough, demanding sex—the best kind, in her opinion.

“I brought some clothes to donate,” said Hope. “They’re from everyone in the pack. Some of them don’t quite realize yet that they’ve donated, but I’m sure they’ll notice soon.”

Trick’s brow furrowed. “What exactly have I donated?”

“We had some extra food,” Grace told Makenna.

She called those three boxes extra? Like the stuff had just been lying around? “Extra food,” repeated Makenna. “Right.”

Nostrils flaring, Dominic sidled up to Madisyn with a frown. “What are you?”

The feline got that a lot. Most shifters didn’t sense what breed she was. And Madisyn kind of liked it that way. She very rarely revealed the truth, since she found joy in dicking with people. “A woman,” Madisyn replied.

Dominic rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but what type of shifter are you?”

“A cat.”

“What kind of cat shifter?” he pressed, impatient.

“A rare one.”

Lydia did a little clap, overriding Dominic’s growl. “Well, let’s get to work.”

It quickly became clear to Makenna that Lydia was quite artistic and had a flair for interior design. She recruited some of the shelter’s volunteers and residents, even the children, to help with improvements. Paintings were hung up, potted plants were brought in, colorful blackout blinds replaced outdated curtains, and stylish light fixtures were added.

The common room was completely transformed. The old carpet was replaced by laminate flooring and then covered with a beautiful, coffee-colored rug the same shade as the blinds. The upholstery was changed with matching sofas and cushions, and white faux-leather covers were added to the plastic chairs.