“I have to question your IQ,” Harley said to the redhead. “Mila’s kind are one of the most vicious breeds of shifter. Seriously, didn’t anyone ever tell you not to fuck with a pallas cat?”

The jackal didn’t respond to Harley. No, her attention was on the male wolf who was staring at her with a promise of death in his eyes.

It was . . . strange. If asked, Mila would have replied that, yes, she knew exactly how Dominic would react in a situation like this. Knew he would stand aside, let the situation play out, and leave the weight of it to another enforcer or shifter of a higher rank—not out of fear or an inability to deal with the situation, but because Dominic was all about “fun.” People who lived for fun tended to leave the serious stuff to others, just as serious people didn’t often go in search of fun—it was only natural.

But there was Dominic, crouched in front of the jackal, his expression remote and unreadable. He didn’t look tense. Wasn’t rigid with repressed anger. He seemed as steady and in control as always, but there was none of his usual impishness there. No emotion at all.

His dominance was usually so subtle, but not right then. It pulsed around him like a living thing; his power and intensity had never been more evident. That laser-sharp focus of his was locked on the jackal—and not in a way that could melt a girl’s bones and fire her need for him. No, it was in a way that could make someone’s fight-or-flight instinct kick in fast.

Right then, Mila didn’t feel like she was looking at the person who’d been pursuing her for the past week. This guy had a coldness to him. He was cunning, hard to faze, unforgiving. And she knew instinctively that he would kill without blinking.

Mila had always suspected that Dominic deliberately came across as relatively harmless so that people underestimated him. But, yeah, she hadn’t expected to find this kind of darkness when he peeled back the layers.

“I’m going to ask you this once,” Dominic said to the jackal, his voice low. Even. Calm. It was a tone that said he had no wish to harm her . . . but he would. And he wouldn’t feel much of anything when he did. “Just once. And if you’re smart, you’ll answer my question. And you’ll answer it honestly. If you don’t, you’ll find out how a Phoenix Pack interrogation goes.”

The jackal winced, and Mila didn’t blame her. The pack’s Beta male, Dante, was well known for being a master interrogator who never failed to get answers, no matter what it took to get them.

“That’s assuming you survive the trip to my territory,” Dominic added. “I have a feeling that Mila is eager to pop your head like a zit. I find the idea intriguing. So tell me: Why did you come at Mila?”

The redhead swallowed. “It wasn’t personal.”

Dominic’s brows slowly lifted. “It wasn’t personal?”

“I just came to collect on the bounty.” Her eyes cut to Mila’s, who must have betrayed her surprise, because the jackal smiled. “You don’t know you have a price on your head? Oh, that’s just”—her smile faltered at Dominic’s growl—“unfortunate,” she finished lamely.

Mila took two steps toward her, and the jackal tensed. “Who put the bounty on my head?”

“That I don’t know,” said the jackal.

“You don’t know?”

“The website protects the anonymity of whoever requests the hit.”

Dominic and Jesse exchanged a look that made Mila tense. “What?” she asked them. “What am I missing?”

“Let’s just say we’re familiar with this website,” Dominic told her.

“So the jackal’s telling the truth?”

“We have a way of finding out for sure.” Dominic looked back at Jesse. “Make the call.”

Jesse headed to the corner of the room, his phone to his ear. A few minutes later, the enforcer turned back to them, his expression grim.

“It’s true?” Mila prompted.

Jesse nodded. “It’s true. Your name is on that website.”

As all eyes turned to her, Mila ground her teeth. She didn’t know who’d put the bounty on her head, but she could guess whose fault it was that the bounty was there. “I’ll kill him. I swear, I’ll kill him. For real this time.”

“Who?” demanded Dominic.

“My brother.”

Sitting on the sofa with Dominic on her left and her father on her right, Mila rubbed at her forehead. Having a horde of shifters in her living room, all vibrating with rage, was never fun. Her parents, Vinnie, and his sons had all hit the roof on hearing what had happened in the greenroom. But they’d fallen quiet when Dominic and Jesse moved on to the subject of the website.

Her pack mates listened intently. They were all still and watchful, except for Valentina, who was doing more frenzied cleaning—sweeping the hardwood floor, dusting the shelves and mantel, wiping down the black tempered-glass coffee table, and even watering plants.

Dominic had insisted on driving Mila home in his SUV, and she’d been unable to disagree that it made good sense. People hoping to collect on the bounty would be watching out for her car, not his. No one would have expected her to leave the Velvet Lounge with him, and they wouldn’t have spotted her through the darkened windows of his SUV.

She’d thought he’d simply drop her off outside her building and then head home—this wasn’t his problem. Jesse could easily explain the website to her pride mates, and, well, Dominic had always struck her as someone who avoided getting involved in other people’s problems. Apparently, she was wrong.

It was hard not to look at him a little differently now that she knew just how much darkness lived behind the flirtatious perv mask. There’d been a large dose of fearlessness there too. He’d had no compunction about trying to lure a pissed-off pallas cat to him. Had easily sprawled on his side, putting himself at a disadvantage. Hadn’t hesitated to stroke the cat when she came to him. That was ballsy.

Just when Mila thought she had him figured out, he did something unexpected.

Her cat approved of his fearlessness and strength. Even liked the dangerous vibe he insisted on dialing down. Well, the bloodthirsty little thing would.

Finally, both Dominic and Jesse fell silent. No one spoke as everyone took a moment to fully digest what they’d heard.

“Let me get this straight,” Vinnie finally said, propped on a tall stool he’d taken from the breakfast bar. “There’s a website that lists people or groups of shifters that have bounties on their heads; anyone can collect on the bounties, providing they can give proof that the deed was done; but it’s not possible for us to identify whoever took out the hit because the admin of the website withholds the personal details of all ‘clients’?”

Dominic pursed his lips. “Yeah, that’s about it.”

“If this website has existed for years, how has it never been taken down?” asked James.

“People have been working on it for a long time,” replied Jesse, sprawled on an armchair. “It’s not as simple as tracking IP addresses. The site has numerous ‘trip wires’ that insert viruses into any computer trying to hack its way in. Also, those wires continuously change, much like a moving labyrinth—something my Alpha’s contact hasn’t seen before or since. The people working to smash through the protective measures of the website believe they’re finally close to identifying its creator. The problem is that it’s part of the Dark Web. That means it’s not accessible to regular users in the first place, and then the admin has added extra layers of cutting-edge defense and obfuscation on top of that.”