57. Annabella #2
AJ moved. Three massive strides that cleared half the room—people scrambling sideways—and stopped an arm’s length from her.
Close enough that the top of her platinum head barely reached his sternum.
His hands were locked at his sides, every tendon standing out, like he was physically restraining himself from touching her.
“Four years.” His voice was wrecked. “Four years, eleven months, and sixteen days.”
Mina’s throat worked. “What?”
“You’re my mate.”
She went rigid. “No. That’s…No. I’m human. Humans don’t have fated mates.”
“It happens,” Sam said. “Rare, but it happens.”
“I’m not anyone’s mate.”
I watched Mina’s body, not her face. Her face was doing a convincing job of disbelief. But her body had tilted toward him despite the step she’d taken backward. Her weight was forward on the balls of her feet. Her breathing had gone shallow and quick.
She felt it. Whatever it was, she felt it, even if she didn’t understand it.
“This is insane.” But the certainty had leaked out of her voice. “You—” She swallowed hard. “You’re the man from the car crash. The one that killed my parents.” Her voice dropped. “You hauled me out before it exploded.”
AJ’s eyes softened, and for a moment, the mountain looked almost gentle.
“You wouldn’t let go of my hand until the ambulance came.
You told me your name was Mina, and your favorite color was purple because it was the color of your mother’s favorite flowers.
” He paused. “I dream about your face every goddamn night.”
The room had gone completely silent.
Mina’s chin came up. I recognized the move, I’d done it myself a thousand times. Pull yourself together. Armor on. Don’t let them see you crack.
“It doesn’t matter. I’m not—”
“How did you get out of Kane’s camps, Mina?” Derek’s voice cut through the moment.
AJ’s head snapped toward Derek. For a fraction of a second something ancient rolled behind his eyes; something that had nothing to do with the gentle man who’d been talking about purple flowers. His body shifted, putting himself between Mina and the rest of the room.
“Derek—” I started.
“Did you escape?” Derek pressed, ignoring me. His voice had gone cold. “Or were you released?”
Mina’s face drained of color. Her eyes darted to me—help me—then back to Derek. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
But she did. I could smell the lie. Not just the fear—everyone in this room was afraid—but the sharp bite of deception layered beneath it. My wolf pinned the scent immediately, and something cold opened up in the pit of my stomach.
“A human named Mina was taken by Tristan’s Pack to force AJ to work for them,” Sam said beside me. Quiet. Measured. “She was sold to Kane’s operation afterward. That was the last verified intel we had.” He shook his head. “I never connected her to the tech specialist in Annabella’s crew.”
Every head turned to me.
Howling hell.
“This is ridiculous.” My voice came out hard, defensive. “I recruited her myself. She checked out.”
“Did she?” Derek’s attention swung to Mina. “Because what I’m seeing is someone who went from Kane’s camps to working inside a crew that hit Council targets. That’s not a coincidence. That’s an operation.”
Mina’s eyes found mine again. Her gaze was desperate, pleading.
Just what the actual fuck was going on?
I looked at Sam. His face gave me nothing, but I felt his careful, cautious concern.
“Mina.” I kept my voice level. “What are they talking about?”
She closed her eyes.
When she opened them, the fight had gone out of her.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “They’re right. I was working for Kane.”
I waited for the part where she said she was joking. It didn't come, and something cold slid down my spine and settled in my stomach.
“I was in Tristan’s camps for months. You have to understand, Tristan and his Pack…
they hated humans. Thought we were weak vermin, only good as slaves for their superior race.
” She practically spat the words. “Then Tristan sold me to Kane. But Kane’s people weren’t trafficking humans.
They were recruiting them. Training them.
Who better to fight Shifters than humans who already had every reason to hate them?
I had nothing to go back to. My parents were dead.
I was furious, so fucking furious at what Tristan did to me, to all of us.
I was scared and helpless and Kane gave me a way to stop being both. ”
My hands had curled into fists at my sides. I forced them open. Forced myself to keep breathing.
“So yes, I used my skills,” she continued.
“I spied for them. They planted me in your crew to monitor Webster’s operation.
Kane knew the alliance with Webster would only be temporary.
That once the Shifters were dealt with, there’d be a power struggle.
He wanted eyes inside.” Her voice cracked.
“I fed my handler intel. Targets, resources, operational details.”
“Did you sell us out, too, Mina?” Derek asked. There was no heat in his tone. Just the clean, efficient voice of a man extracting information. “Did you give them intel on Three Rivers?”
“No!” Mina shook her head. “You have to believe me! Yes, when we got out of the Kennel and came here, they ordered me to spy on Three Rivers. I refused. I swear…I swear I never sent any information about Three Rivers. Not one report. Not one update. Nothing.”
“Then how the fuck did they know what to hit?”
“I don’t know.” The words tore out of her. “I don’t know how they knew. But it wasn’t me. It wasn’t—” She turned to me, tears cutting tracks through the grime on her face. “Annabella. You know me. You know I would never put children, put babies, in danger. I would never hurt—”
She kept talking. The words blurred.
I’d trusted Mina with my life. With my crew’s lives.
I’d sat across from her in a dozen safe houses, shared terrible coffee and worse jokes, watched her throw pretzels during that bar fight like she’d found her true calling.
The way she’d been the one to crack Sam’s cover, cross-referencing photos with that relentless, brilliant stubbornness that made her the best at what she did.
And the whole time—the whole time—she’d been feeding information to the human who wanted all Shifters dead, all witches locked up.
How had I not seen it? How had I let first Mina, then Felix, past my guard? They’d both fooled me. And if Mina could be recruited, who else was? Was I really this easy to fool? Was there something fundamentally wrong with the part of me that was supposed to see people for what they actually were?
I thought about every conversation we’d had. Every time she’d been alone with sensitive information. Every mission where she’d handled communications, where she could have sent a signal, passed along coordinates, tipped off Kane without any of us knowing.
I glanced at Zeke. He was staring at Mina with an expression I couldn’t untangle, horror and hurt and confusion all knotted together. He hadn’t known either.
Sam’s hand found the small of my back.
Mina’s eyes were locked on mine, begging me to say something, to defend her, to tell everyone she was telling the truth about Three Rivers.
“I don’t know what to believe,” I said.
Something in Mina’s face collapsed.
Derek looked at Mai and Ryan. “It’s your call.”
Mai studied Mina for a long time. Rocking Victoria with that absent, automatic rhythm, her face revealing nothing. She looked at Ryan. Something passed between them—the silent shorthand of mates.
“Detain her,” Mai said.
“No—! Please—” Mina started forward. Two enforcers moved to intercept.
AJ’s entire body shifted, a coiling, unconscious adjustment that put six-foot-five of bear Shifter between Mina and everyone else.
His eyes had gone molten amber. I could feel the animal from across the room; not wolf but something older and heavier.
“AJ!” Sam’s voice was sharp. “Stand down.”
The bear Shifter’s hands fisted.
“She won’t be harmed,” Mai promised.
The enforcers took her arms. Mina didn’t resist, but she kept her eyes on me as they turned her toward the back hallway. “I’m telling the truth. I chose Three Rivers. I chose—” Her voice broke. “Please. You have to believe me. I didn’t do this.”
I watched her go. Watched until the hallway swallowed her, and there was nothing left but the sound of her boots and then nothing at all.
AJ stood motionless, staring after her. His massive frame looked hollowed out.
Then he moved. Followed the path they’d taken her.
“AJ?” Derek said.
AJ stopped at the doorway. Turned.
“She’s mine.” His voice was steady now. “Whatever she’s done. Whatever comes next. She’s been mine since I pulled her out of that fire, and she’ll be mine until I’m in the ground.”
Derek’s expression didn’t change. “That doesn’t mean she’s innocent.”
“No. It means I’ll be there when you find out the truth. And if she’s guilty—” His jaw worked. “Then I’ll be there for that too.”
He turned and walked into the shadows after his mate.
The door swung shut.
Nobody spoke.
Then Gideon whistled low. “Well. That’s going to be one hell of a complicated relationship.”