When the two Rogues finally returned to the studio, they found David was waiting for them—and he looked pissed.

“Where were you?” he demanded as soon as Killian and Zayden entered the building. “Shane, Ryan, and Patrick had no idea where you were when I asked them, and we wasted God knows how much time looking for you! If either of you pull a disappearing stunt like that again—”

“Killian couldn’t concentrate on anything, Dave,” Zayden jumped in, knowing how weak it sounded. He didn’t care. “I was just trying to help.”

“I wonder how he did that,” came Shane’s voice from behind David. Muffled laughter issued from PatRyan and Ryan.

“Shut it, you lot,” Killian snarled. A bolt of satisfaction hit him when he heard strangled gulps. The satisfaction shriveled and died as Killian forced himself to meet David’s eyes.

“That true?” the producer asked.

“Zayden and I just went out for a bit. I haven’t been feeling well lately and he thought the fresh air would do me some good.”

“Bet that’s not all he got,” Patrick muttered.

Killian growled quietly, trying not to let the full sub-vocalization come through. His entire body tensed; right now, he wanted nothing more than to tear into warm flesh.

A hand slipped into his. Glancing down, Killian saw that the hand belonged to Zayden. Gradually the bloodlust faded, and he looked up to see David’s gaze on his and Zayden’s joined hands. The werewolf, a warm flush creeping up the back of his neck, gave Zayden’s hand a quick squeeze.

The bassist’s hand retreated into his jeans pocket.

“It won’t happen again, David,” Killian heard himself say. That was the closest he could say in way of an apology, since the producer had a thing about apologizing being a sign of weakness. So did the Duke, if Killian was remembering correctly: Never say you’re sorry, it’s a sign of weakness.

“Yeah, it will,” David said. “I know you guys.”

Zayden’s lips curled upward at that. “Sure do. Now, if you’re done chewing us out, we have—”

“Work to do,” David finished.

“I was going to say better things to do, but ‘work’ works, too.”

Killian mentally groaned. Now is not the time to get mouthy, Zayden, he thought. Especially not when I’m so unpredictable. Even though he wasn’t forced to shift until the moon reached its zenith, his animalistic urges were stronger during the day and in the hours before the transformation. He murmured, “Don’t get mouthy, Zayden.”

“You’re one to talk,” the bassist shot back quietly.

David’s eyes narrowed. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” werewolf and human said quickly.

The producer sighed. “Well, it doesn’t look like we’re going to get much done today anyway. You guys might as well go home.”

That was all the encouragement Killian and Zayden needed.