“Your lips were on hers. That’s touching,” Gabriel growled.

Ani stepped in front of her father and poked him in the chest. “Don’t act like it’s wrong for them to respond to me.”

He glared at her but didn’t lift a hand. “I am the Gabriel. I run this pack, and if any of them”—he looked past her to the Hound on the floor—“want to challenge me over you, all they need to do is say the word.”

The Hound on the floor spoke up. “I turned her down.”

“Not because she lacks anything,” Gabriel growled.

“No, no.” The Hound held up his hands. “She’s perfect, Gabe… but you said she was off-limits.”

Gabriel held a hand out to the Hound on the floor without looking at him.

The Hound glanced at her. “Sorry… I, umm, touched you.”

Ani rolled her eyes. “You’re a peach.”

“Sorry, Gabriel. It won’t happen again.” The Hound straddled his bike and left with a roar that was more growl than a real Harley’s engine could mimic.

For a heartbeat, it was perfectly quiet in the stable. The steeds stayed silent and motionless.

“My perfect pup.” Gabriel stepped up and ruffled her hair. “He doesn’t deserve you. None of them do.”

She shoved him away. “So, you’d rather I’m skin starved?”

Gabriel snorted. “You’re not starved.”

“I would be if I followed all of your rules,” she muttered.

“And I wouldn’t have so many rules if I thought you’d follow them all.” He threw a punch, which she dodged. It was nice, but not backed by the full force of his strength or weight. He always held back. That was insulting. If she were truly a part of the Hunt, he’d fight with her the way he fought with all the rest. He’d train her. He’d accept me in the pack.

“You suck at fatherhood, Gabe.” She turned away and started down the aisle.