Nash's steel-gray eyes swept across the northern perimeter of Mistwood territory with predatory precision. The infant in his arms whimpered incessantly, her tiny fists clutching at his shirt. Each cry grated against his nerves, but he forced himself to remain calm.
This fragile little creature was his golden ticket. The perfect bargaining chip to reclaim what belonged to him. He would spirit her away to his safe house in the human settlement, then contact Seraphine. The plan was elegantly simple. He had no emotional attachment to the child. She was merely a means to an end. Theodore could keep his precious pack. All Nash wanted was his mate back.
