When He's Sinful (The Olympus Pride 3)

“I’ll meet you there at seven,” said Camden. He gave the enforcer a pointed look. “But understand this: we’re not fighting over Aspen. She’s not a prize, she’s a person.”

Aspen stepped toward them, the image of exasperation. “Hold up, this is just plain stupid. Grant, I’m sorry, but we’re not mates. We’re just not. You’d be dueling with Camden for no real reason. There’s no point to it. None. Dammit, why won’t you at least consider that you might be wrong?”

Grant looked at her, his eyes filled with bitterness. “I could ask the same of you.” With that, he stormed off.

Aspen swore. “This is ridiculous.”

Bailey twisted her mouth. “My guess? He’s thinking that if he overpowers Camden in a duel, you’ll finally see Grant.”

“All I see is that he’s pathologically obstinate,” said Aspen. “Why would he be so determined to cling to his beliefs? I don’t get it.”

Havana bit her lip. “I spoke with Valentina about it yesterday,” she said, referring to Alex’s mother. “Remember Elle said something about how they’d all thought Grant missed the chance at having a true-mate bond? Well, Valentina told me that Grant lost a very close friend as a child. He took the little girl’s death so badly that there was a long period during which he barely ate, spoke, or slept.”

Pity crept into Aspen’s expression. “That’s the trauma that turned his cat hateful and moody?”

Havana nodded. “Some thought that Grant and the girl, Beth, were true mates. But then, many think that of two shifter children who are extremely close. Anyway, no one was quite sure. Still, maybe Grant himself did believe it. Maybe his cat’s reaction to you gave him hope that he wouldn’t have to miss out on a true-mate bond. Letting yourself hope isn’t always easy. And if that hope is then crushed, you’re in for a truck load of pain.”

“Unless you refuse to let yourself feel it,” said Aspen.

“Exactly. The moment he accepts that you could be right, he’ll have to feel that pain.”

Camden could see that the two females now felt an element of sympathy for the enforcer. He didn’t. Not when the asshole was stressing Aspen out. Not when Grant persisted in trying to claim rights to her that he absolutely did not have.

Hearing his phone ring, Camden pulled it out of his pocket. Sheridan. Annoyance tightened Camden’s jaw. He had been pretty clear that he had no interest in anything else that might happen at the pride, so he wasn’t impressed to see that his uncle was contacting him. Again.

Camden moved away from the others—who were still discussing the Grant situation—to take the call. “What?” he answered, his tone bored.

There was a sigh. “I know you didn’t want to hear from me again, but I have to ask,” said Sheridan.

Camden’s tiger growled at the mere sound of Sheridan’s voice. “Ask what?”

“Two nights’ ago, someone burned down the cabin where your mother was … detained. Then we realized this morning that someone had desecrated her grave. Well, they didn’t quite damage it, but they sprayed ‘For T’ on the headstone with paint. The letter T, I mean.”

Camden felt his brow furrow. “Just ‘For T?’”

“Yes. ‘T’ has to be a person, which rules out Julius, considering he’d only be doing this to avenge Esme. But other than for a few of our pride mates who died a long time ago, none have a name with that initial. Nor do any have a grievance with someone whose name begins with T—or, at least, not as far as we know. We can’t work out what’s happening here or why. Everyone has been interviewed, but no one stands out as a suspect. That was why I thought I’d give you a call. I wondered if you knew something we didn’t, since this whole thing seems to center around your parents.”

“There’s one thing I do know. My mother told me that Julius referred to her as ‘Tink’ when they were kids, as in Tinkerbell. So I wouldn’t rule him out, if I were you.”

Sheridan cursed. “I don’t like the thought that an outsider could be trespassing on our territory—our security is tight. But I also don’t like the thought that one of my own pride mates could be behind it. Have you seen anything more of Julius?”

“No.”

Sheridan sighed. “If you ask me, he’s enjoying this. Like I said last time, be sure to watch your back. And sorry to bother you. I wouldn’t have done so if it wasn’t important. Take care of yourself.” He rang off.

Chewing over the matter, Camden returned to Aspen. She stood alone, her eyes on her phone. The others had scattered.

Looking at him, she frowned. “What’s wrong?”

Camden had blanked his expression, but of course she’d sensed something was up. She knew him well. He pocketed his cell. “I just spoke with Sheridan. Julius targeted my mother’s grave this time, along with the cabin that the old Alpha once segregated her in.”