Havermouth, Two Weeks Before The necklace around her neck was held together by a padlock. Heath hadn’t noticed it at Rhett’s tattoo parlor – things had happened so quickly, and he had been so angry, it was no wonder that the details of her outfit had skipped his notice. But he had seen it the moment they’d entered the kitchen, noting the workmanship of it and the glitter of diamonds.A love token from the vampire, he had decided straight away. It wasn’t until they were sitting across the table from each other and the infinity knot had slipped to the side, that he’d seen the padlock holding it closed at the rear. A tiny padlock, but a significant one. The necklace wasn’t a lover’s token but rather a declaration of ownership.Considering how the vampire had defended her against Heath the evening before, he wasn’t surprised that he had made sure to mark Aislen as his. A warning to Heath to back off, and a notice that the vampire intended to continue his pursuit of Aislen.Heath wasn’t s

Havermouth, Two Weeks BeforeHeath Gale and Rhett Salem, Talen turned the names over in his mind as he reviewed the details that Tony had sent through to him on his laptop. In one of those twists of little towns, Heath Gale owned the firm that handled some of Zeus’ legal work. A lawyer.Well, that explained the expensive suits and impeccable grooming.Young, he observed, lifting his eyebrows as he saw the date of birth. Young and rich. The rich wasn’t a surprise, most of the werewolf families did well by themselves, but this young man did better than most. Lived just outside of Havermouth, in a heritage home owned by another pack family, the Edison’s.Rhett Salem, the sexy tattoo artist, owned the tattoo parlor in town and made more than a decent living from the business, though the bulk of his wealth had been inherited.“Hmm,” Talen tilted his head and flicked back to Heath’s file.They lived at the same address. Interesting. But not necessarily remarkable, he decided. Young men ofte

Havermouth, Present Time Aislen hit her head hard on the floorboards and lay for a moment with white noise ringing in her ears, staring sightlessly up at the beams of the roof. Her entire body ached. She could feel the sharp sting of the cuts across her torso and the wetness of her blood, and she knew that she was dying. She groaned and put her hand to her chest, surprised to encounter cloth and not skin, and lifted her hand, wondering at how it was not covered in blood and what the black chalkiness was that stained her skin. She slowly lowered her chin to her chest. There were no wounds. Oh, yeah, she wasn’t the one bleeding... The thoughts rolled through her mind in slow motion, as if she was thinking through treacle. “Shit,” she groaned. “Heath!” Where were her mates? “Cameron, and Talen,” she whispered, closing her eyes and then opening them again, her vision focusing, the beams coming into focus. She was on the floor of Leighton’s workspace, she realized, and recalled the salt