He didn't say anything more.

"You have an in with the rogues, but you are also limited on what you can do. I'm not. In the morning, we will discuss this further." Raven paused to push home her point. "The shifter who died tonight wasn't a rogue."

Griffin flinched, the action barely noticeable. He must have come to the same conclusion as Jamie. If the shifters thought they were being targeted, they will remove the threat.

They'll destroy all rogues.

Raven trudged up the stairs, each step heavier than the last. Taggert followed her, ever silent, and she was grateful for his quiet presence.

Dating three men at one time was insane, but it didn't feel like she was cheating by being with the others. She didn't understand the bonds forming between them, and wondered how much her animals were influencing her decisions.

"Why don't you let me run you a bath?"

Raven turned toward him and smiled. "It sounds lovely except that my bathroom is currently under construction. I'm lucky I still have a shower."

Though no expression showed, she couldn't help sense his crestfallen emotions. "I'm sorry our date didn't turn out the way you wanted."

Taggert eyes brightened, a smile tipping his lips. "I had time alone with you. It was perfect."

When he turned to move away, she grabbed his wrist.

He inhaled sharply, a small whimper in his throat. She immediately dropped his arm, the sound more effective than if he'd slapped her. "You're hurt?"

He whirled on her, stepping right into her personal space like it didn't exist, backing her up until her ass hit the wall. Lust poured off him, but he controlled himself, not touching her in any way.

"Do it again." He placed his hands against the wall on either side of her head. His voice was part plea, part demand.

Only when she was able to tear her gaze away from the yellow glow of his eyes did she realize what she'd done.

The scar where she bit him stood out pale against the tanned skin of his wrist.

She should've been horrified to see her mark on him, know that she'd scarred him. Her wolf trotted forward, pleasure and possessiveness shivering down her spine. He was hers. Now and forever. "Will it always be so sensitive?"

Taggert inhaled deeply, breathing her in. "Only your touch."

She knew what he craved. What her wolf wanted. And if she was truthful, she was curious at what it would be like to indulge in touching him again.

Eyes on his, she leaned over and licked his wrist. The taste of him hummed through her.

As if she'd flipped a switch, he flattened her against the wall with his body. His lips sought hers, the hunger in them almost desperate as he kissed her. The wildness of him called her own, and she returned his embrace.

But concern edged out desire. It was harder than she thought to pull away from him. "Taggert?"

He jerked away from her as if she kneed him in the groin instead of said his name. "I'm sorry."

Raven was confused. What the hell was going on here? "Why are you sorry?"

He wouldn't face her. When she reached for him, he ducked away in panic. That only served to piss her off more.

"I shouldn't have touched you without permission." His voice was a raw, a barely-there whisper.

His reply gave her pause. "Because I'm an alpha?"

Raven knew he'd enjoyed their exchange, his arousal proof enough. Her gaze landed on his clenched fists, and the truth dawned on her. "Have you ever kissed anyone without being ordered?"

He glanced at his feet, never lifting his head. "No."

"Does it feel wrong to touch me?"

He shook his head then nodded. "Not without permission."

"So, the only way you'd feel comfortable being near me is if I ordered you." Raven was talking more to herself, their treatment of him horrifying.

The way they'd trained him.

She hadn't realized how deeply integrated he was into the submissive life.

"Orders are the only things that keep us alive."

His logic made sense in a sickening way. Any move he made without approval was a death sentence hanging over him. One she wasn't sure she was prepared to lift if it meant opening herself up and giving him permission to touch at any time.

It was too dangerous.

But she could give him one thing that no one could take from him. "You are part of my pack whether the conclave agrees or not." Then she licked her lips, suddenly uncertain. "If you want it."

His head jerked up at that. "I would be honored."

"But I'm not used to all the romantic attention. I'm used to blending into the crowd." His sudden smile gave her pause, and she eyed his sudden cheerfulness. "What?"

"You are an unmated female. Even with the best shields, shifters will seek you out."

Raven scowled at him. He was right but that didn't mean she had to like it.

His humor faded. "The system is not something you should try to fix. Not all rogues are worthy of being pack. If you intend to move forward and claim pack status, you need to get used to taking charge in all things. Even sex."

She could never order someone to service her like some animal. As if reading her thoughts, he shook his head.

"You're evaluating the situation like a human. A shifter would see selection as an honor."

Raven wasn't ready for that type of thing. "There has to be a compromise." She entered her room, but Taggert held back, hovering by the door. It brought home how rigid the slave lifestyle really was. "Enter."

Taggert opened his mouth but hesitated.

"Say it."

"Use me as practice. By giving me demands, you'll become comfortable to our ways."

Raven paced the room. "But it gives you no freedom."

He stepped in her way, blocking her so un-expectantly that she nearly ran into him. "I don't want freedom. If I wanted freedom, I could have become a rogue."

Raven plopped onto her bed, his reality finally coming home to her. "You really prefer me ordering you around."

Taggert tipped his head forward in agreement.

Her stomach launched up into her throat at the thought of ordering him to kiss or touch her.

"How about a compromise until you become more comfortable."

Raven shot Taggert a suspicious look.

"If I want something, I will ask permission and you can grant it or not. As the size of the pack increases, so will the demands on your time. You will have to get used to giving orders. Consider me practice."

Raven ignored the part about growing her pack. She had enough trouble keeping her people safe to even think of adding more. She eyed him skeptically. "And you will speak up instead of hovering?"

It was his turn to hesitate. "Yes."

It cheered her that this process would be similarly uncomfortable for the both of them. It was long past midnight and tomorrow was going to be even longer with the conclave and her petition.

"The other two spent the night in my bed. To sleep. If you want-" Even before she finished speaking, Taggert had his shirt off and crawled across the mattress behind her. The slave collar gleamed against his throat, but he didn't seem to mind, truly content in his roll.

She just couldn't peg him down. He was so young in age that she sometimes forgot about his past.

Raven readied for bed...or more like delayed getting into bed until the last moment. Exhaustion pulled at her. She turned out the light, relying more and more on her beasts, almost able to see as well in the darkness.

They both lay rigid, the silence loud to her ears. Two awkward minutes passed before she gave up and rolled toward him. Taggert took that as a signal and wrapped his arms around her. He buried his face into her hair and inhaled. Whatever tension held him melted away. His fingers trailed lazily over the sensitive back of her arm, lulling her under the spell he wove. With her head on his shoulder, his heartbeat in her ear, sleep finally took pity and claimed her.

She woke to sunlight and an empty bed.

Why did all the men sneak out of her room as if ashamed?

She sat, tossing back the covers and stopped to see a box with a bow on the dresser.

Raven searched but saw no card. Inside the box rested a blue set of gloves that ended at the wrist, secured with a button. "Taggert."

She fingered the supple leather, feeling a bit foolish at the thrill over such a small gift. Gathering the armload of her items, she walked in the bathroom.

And stopped short.

Taggert was in the shower.

As in naked.

He noticed her the minute she'd entered, but instead of acknowledging her presence, he continued to wash. The drag of his hand down on his body slowed. Suds played peek-a-boo with her imagination. His chest was completely smooth, and she had an irrelevant thought that he must've shaved himself in preparation of her walking in on him.

Then Raven saw his erection and knew without a doubt that he was showing off. And despite herself, it took a good minute for her brain to kick into gear. She whirled, her face heating, and she wished she could say it was in embarrassment.

Part of her mourned not being able to see where his hand ended up, the animal part of her tried to get a better angle in the mirror. The shower turned off within a minute.

"I'll finish getting ready in my room."

Without an ounce of shyness, Taggert strolled out of the room. She expected him to be wearing a towel. He was in a way. He used it to dry his hair. She watched him walk, fascinated with the smooth expanse of his skin, the liquid way his muscles moved.

Who would have thought she was such an ass woman?

Once he left the room, she was finally able to close her mouth and blink her dry eyes.

She wouldn't put it past Taggert to have orchestrated that display to get her mind off the first day of the conclave. A smile played on her lips.

She'd have to hurry and shower if she wanted to check on Jamie, head toward the station to get in her mandatory desk time, and still make it to Talons and the conclave before nightfall.

Chapter Twenty-four.

FIRST DAY OF THE FULL MOOM: WAXING MOON.

Darkness cloaked the basement, and Raven hesitated on the threshold. The antiseptic odors, the smell of blood and pain, brought unpleasant memories of her past.

She clenched her fists and descended into hell. It took her a few moments to locate Digger sitting on the other side of the prone figure. She braced herself to find Jamie tied down.

She'd been so focused on the image that it took her a moment to realize there was nothing sinister in the room.

"Did he wake?" Jamie was a shifter with all the benefits of accelerated healing. Part of her expected to see him up and about at the very least. Instead, he appeared just as tattered as last night. Dried blood had been removed, revealing exactly how many injuries he'd sustained. The right side of his body took the brunt of the injuries as if he'd tried to turn away, offering a smaller target.

Digger stood and walked over to the bench he'd commandeered for his needs. "The shifter in him will try to heal the worst of the damage first, which is the internal injuries he'd sustained. He is on the mend, but he'll be unconscious for the rest of the day, if not longer."

Raven wanted to offer to heal him, but refrained for two reasons. All his energies were already tied up in healing. There was nothing for her to redirect without putting his life in further danger. Not to mention she feared that her efforts would bind them together and leave her in possession of another shifter.

"Did he take that much damage or is there something else slowing down the process?" She feared the transfer of so much blood from the other shifter might have somehow infected him as well.

Digger gave her a peculiar look. "It is possible. If you have an idea what it might be, it could speed up his recovery time."

"Do you still have the clothes he'd been wearing?"

Digger gestured toward a pile of neatly folded clothes on a chair near the wall.

"Not all the blood is his. If you can separate and analyze the blood types, it could tell us what's killing these shifters."

"But you suspect something already."

Raven gave him a considering look, suspicious to find him so open and unthreatening. He watched, noticed things, but she didn't sense him studying her.