“What? You're telling me he went after it again?” His tone was incredulous, more so than it might've been before that summer of '23 and Mac's pleas for safety together. It seemed he invited some of the risk with open arms.
The details were hazy for Max. He'd lost his head, thanks to the constant rage she'd been pushing into it. Wild and shifted, he'd run and found more trouble that night. He hadn't seen Mac until he'd walked into that room after walking through a truly fucking bizarre party. God, the prison orange alone, Christ.