IT TOOK US AN HOUR TO GET TO THE CLOSEST AIRPORT, a tiny little strip of a thing that didn’t fly commercial. I’d been willing to commandeer a plane by force if necessary, but there was no need: pilot, plane, and a small white envelope bearing my name were waiting for us when we got there—courtesy of Callum.
He’d known we’d come here, and he’d known where we’d be headed—and why. Any doubt I might have clung to that he hadn’t foreseen Chase’s death—hadn’t already apologized for it—evaporated.
There wasn’t an apology in the world—before, during, or after—that could make this right. A plane and a pilot and the Stone River alpha’s reassurance—via note card—that he would be glad to send Devon’s father to stay at the Wayfarer in his son’s stead did nothing to change what had happened.
What Callum had let happen.
I didn’t bother calling him. I sent permission for Lance to enter our territory via text. Then I closed my eyes and waited—for the plane to land, for Shay to realize that he’d pushed the wrong girl too far.
Devon met us near the northern border of Shay’s territory. I was betting that to get to Maddy’s hideout, Shay would have had to take his pack north, up and around Cedar Ridge, and then down into Shadow Bluff territory and over. Even at werewolf speed, the return journey would take time—more time than it took Devon to get here from the Wayfarer, and more time than it took Lake, Caroline, and me to fly.
In a fair race, I wouldn’t have been able to outrun Shay, but werewolves had a tendency to forget about things like planes, and I was done with fair.
Now was the time for playing dirty.
“This is what you want?” I asked Caroline.
“It is.”
I didn’t ask her if she was sure—didn’t need to be told that the answer was yes. Digging my fingernails into her flesh, I made good on the assurance I’d given Shay in the mountains: Caroline wasn’t just any human.
She was ours.
With little ceremony and only Devon and Lake as an audience, I made Caroline a member of the Cedar Ridge Pack. I tied her mind to mine, to the others. I Marked her, the way that Callum had once Marked me.
She didn’t flinch, and I got the feeling that Caroline would have gladly gotten in bed with the devil himself if it meant taking Shay down a notch.
Hurting him, the way he’d hurt us.
“So that’s it, then,” Caroline said. “I’m one of you.”
I got a vague and fuzzy sense of her thoughts on the other side of the pack-bond—not nearly as clear as they would have been if she was a Were. I heard enough to know that this was not a place she’d ever expected to be.
Welcome to the club.
She startled at the sound of my voice in her head, and I figured it wouldn’t be long before she learned to shut me out, the way Ali did, the way I’d shut Callum out, growing up.
Let’s do this.
Even with the addition of Caroline, four was a small number to represent our pack, but Devon was my second-in-command, and at the moment, he was bleeding power, anger, pain.
Our eyes met, and his took on the sheen of tears. He crossed the space between us and opened his arms. I’d been intent on staying strong, on keeping my emotions in check, but seeing Devon undid something inside of me. He’d been there when Callum brought me home to the Stone River Pack. He’d been the reason it had started to feel like home—and he’d been with me every step of the way since then.
It was killing him that this time, he hadn’t been there, that I’d been gutted, and he wasn’t there to stop it.
Without thought or hesitation, I launched myself into Devon’s grasp. I buried my face in his shirt—purple silk that smelled like him, felt like him. I didn’t cry, but my body shook like I was sobbing.
Devon murmured to me, held me, hurt for me. Through the bond, I could feel his emotions, and I felt him feeling mine. We only stayed that way for three seconds, maybe four, before I stepped back, sending a death glare around the group, daring them to comment.
No one said a word.
I went over the plan—again and again. It was simple, but we couldn’t afford for anything to go wrong.
We were going to do this by the rules.
Eventually, Griff joined us. He didn’t ask what had happened or what had brought us to Snake Bend territory. Maybe he’d been watching. Maybe he’d tried to see Maddy again and had realized she was with Shay.
Maybe he saw all he needed to see in Lake’s eyes.
“We have a plan?” he asked.
Two werewolves, two humans, and a ghost up against the third-largest werewolf pack in North America?
“Yeah,” I said. “We have a plan.” I outlined the details, the rules. “Think you can handle damage control?”
I hadn’t counted on Griffin’s presence, but having an ally who was impervious to the fangs and claws of our opponents wouldn’t hurt—though if things went according to plan, there wouldn’t be much of a fight.
“We’re really doing this,” Lake said. It wasn’t a question, or a complaint. She punctuated that fact with a low whistle. “This is big.”
She was right.
This wasn’t defense.
This wasn’t waiting for Shay’s next move.
This was war.