Julian’s nephew turned toward me first. He raised his nose the slightest bit and sniffed the air. His eyebrows slanted just like those of his fellow shifters. Obviously Julian had not announced my visit to anyone other than the guards at the gate.
“This is Ness Clark.” Julian’s pouty mouth curved, which accentuated his nephew’s frown.
“Callum Clark’s girl?” Robbie asked.
Julian nodded. “The very one.” He released me and leaned in toward his future niece-in-law-or whatever she was to him. “Margaux, darling, you look ravishing tonight.”
“As do you, Uncle.”
“Always a kind word for your graying uncle.”
“You are not graying.” She let out a tinkling titter, as though her lips were made of crystal.
I sniffed the air, wondering what she was truly made of-skin or fur. She smelled like Robbie, as though she’d bathed in his scent.
When the camera crew asked if they could get a picture of her with Julian, he obliged.
Robbie crossed his arms as he watched his uncle dip his future wife over his arm. She laughed, her eyes glittering for the camera as wildly as her diamonds. I looked up at Robbie and wondered if he worried about the way Julian touched Margaux. After all, Julian was the Alpha, and Alphas liked to take things that weren’t theirs for the taking…at least that had been true in our pack.
“You’ve grown up lots since the last time I saw you.” Robbie glanced down at me. “How long has it been?”
“Six years.”
“Six years…” he mused, his gaze back on his future wife who was now giggling because Julian had scooped her up. “I always wondered something.”
“What?” I asked him.
“Why didn’t your pack punish the hunter who killed your father?”
“Excuse me?”
“The last hunter who injured one of ours was mauled instantly. I thought the Boulders abided by the same rules as we did.”
My body, which I’d angled toward Julian and Margaux, pivoted fully toward Robbie. “They do. The hunter was killed right after I left Boulder.”
He frowned deeply. “The man’s very much alive, Ness.”
My heart, which had behaved until now, hurdled against my ribcage.
“You were with your father that night, weren’t you?”
“I was, but it was dark, and it was one of my first runs, and my sense of smell was still developing, and-”
“So you don’t remember the hunter?”
“I never even saw him. At least, I don’t remember seeing him.” I remembered hearing the gunshot, the hot spray of blood, the metallic smell of it, but that was all that remained of the devastating night. “But the pack sniffed him out. And they”-my voice caught-“they killed him.”
The pity crinkling Robbie’s expression made my skin crawl. “For a dead man, he looks and sounds awfully real.”
Bang. Bang. Bang went my heart. Like the rifle that had stolen my father from me. Robbie was lying, trying to get a rise from me.
“How do you even know who it is?” I asked.
“You don’t think we carry out our own investigations? The death of a shifter affects us all.”
His words rubbed my nerves raw. “Why should I believe the man is still out there? For all I know, you’re trying to rile me up so I go and kill an innocent man. A man whose death would be convenient to the Pines?”
“Passionate little thing, aren’t you?”
“Answer my question. Why should I believe you?”
“Truth is, you shouldn’t. But if I were you, Ness, I’d go ask your pack for the truth.”
“I don’t have a pack.”
He tilted his head to the side. “So the rumors I heard that you were competing for Alpha are deceitful?”
“I’m not competing anymore. I have no interest in being a Boulder.”
He folded his strong arms in front of his broad chest. “So a lone wolf it is?”
“No. I’m leaving Boulder.”
“Not shifting will shorten your lifespan. It’s unnatural for your body not to go through the change. It would be like a woman not menstruating.”
His comparison had me wrinkling my nose.
Margaux burst back next to us as Julian posed for a couple shots by himself. She latched onto her fiancé’s arm but then let go to fuss with the white ribbon wrapped around his short blond ponytail.
“We should return to our guests, Robbie.”
He kissed her, and then to me he said, “Enjoy the party.”
Hand in hand, they went back to the crowd that had spilled out the French doors onto the paved terrace where all the faces and finery blurred into a vibrant, glittery cloud.
A hand wrapped around my elbow. “They’d like to take a picture of us. Would you pose for one with me?”
I turned to Julian. “No.”
He studied my expression, then flicked a hand toward the photographer’s assistant who had trailed after him. The woman scurried away.
“Mr. Matz, who killed my father?”
Julian gave his head a little shake. “Robbie. Robbie. Robbie. Always sticking his nose in matters that don’t concern him.”
“Tell me his name. Please.” I had a violent need for the truth.
He dipped his chin. “If I am not mistaken, you had dinner with him a few days ago.”