His breath burned in his throat, not from exertion but from fear. No sooner had he reached the middle landing than a door crashed open. A blur of movement, a snarl, and then a claw-tipped hand had him by the throat and slammed him into the wall. Ian Ranulf, fangs extended, his human face stretching into lupine lines, snarled again as he squeezed Sin’s throat tighter. Shit and bloody, fucking hell. Ian was turning werewolf on him. Sin hung limp, trying not to fight back, trying to calm even as the walls began to rattle and his power surged under his skin. Another man burst from the room. “Ian,” Archer shouted, deep and powerful. “Stop. It is Sin.” Ian’s eyes, more animal than human, narrowed. A snort of hot breath hit Sin’s face. At his side, Archer eased closer, his expression stern. “He is your brother-in-law. Daisy’s brother.” At the sound of Daisy’s name, Ian winced, a forlorn sound escaping him.
