Chapter Twenty-Seven-Blaire

Hex's eyes turned kind, and the pity began to surface. I didn't want his pity, I just wanted his help. I wanted him to tell me whether Axel was lying or not. Tell me so that the pressure on my chest would subside.

"Do you have anything of your mothers?" he asked.

Another twist of the knife in my heart. I had nothing of hers. "No."

Hex pursed his thin lips, and stroked his beard slightly. "It will take longer without a personal item, but a hair from you should suffice."

"That I can do," I said, searching my shirt for a stray, I plucked one off and handed it to him. "I really appreciate you helping me," I said.

He slowly stood up, and placed the hair on a newspaper sitting on the table beside him. "I'm glad I can help."

Luther reached over and grasped my wrist. "Are you ready to go? I need to go by work before we head to the pack house."

"Sure," I said, leaning in to hug Hex.

He smelled liked chewing tobacco and sweat, judging by the lack of an air conditioner in the room, but I didn't