I gulped air, fighting the urge to throw up. “She had white eyes. Pure white. She said the Wyrdmother’s coming for me. She said—she said—‘no wolf in the world can stop me.’”
The words hung in the air, heavy as anvils.
Arsenal’s eyes narrowed. “Did she touch you?”
I shook my head. “She blocked my way. But I have protection spells. She couldn’t touch me. She just wanted to scare me.” My voice sounded hollow, even to myself.
Arsenal stalked into the bathroom, slammed the door, and returned thirty seconds later. “Empty,” he reported. “No trace.”
Papa pulled me closer, his hand splayed protectively over my spine. He turned to Arsenal. “See anything out of place?”
Arsenal shook his head. “Not unless you count a haunted mirror and an air freshener from 2005.”
Papa didn’t smile. “If you see anyone out of place, you bring the whole pack. We don’t take chances.”
Arsenal nodded, then left without another word, boots pounding down the hall.
I was still shaking. I took my bag from Papa so I could free Oscar from inside. His tiny head poked out.
“She’s not here now, Miss,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “It’s safe to leave.”
Oscar climbed instantly onto my shoulder, visible only to us. “Come on,” Papa said, voice low and urgent. “We’re going home.”
He didn’t wait for argument. We cut through the bar, past the pool table and the empty stage and the thicket of voices that suddenly seemed a world away. Outside, the wind had picked up, scattering gravel across the parking lot. Papa’s truck loomed under the lone streetlight, dust swirling around the tires.
He opened the passenger door, helped me inside, and then slid behind the wheel. He started the engine, but before he put it in gear, he turned to me.
“You’re safe,” he said again. “I’ll never let her touch you.”
I wanted to believe him. I really did. But all I could feel was the cold in my bones and the ghostly echo of that voice.
He called Bronc on the drive home, hands-free on the truck’s Bluetooth. The conversation was short and sharp, like the crack of a whip. Papa relayed everything—the confrontation in the bathroom, the threat, Arsenal’s check—and then listened as Bronc spat a string of curses I’d never heard before.
“We up security,” Bronc said, voice like a stone wall. “We double down on everything. You said she’s got her magic working now so she and Oscar can start getting wards up around the entire territory. I trust them to keep those fuckers out. Tell her to go about her business but keep her head on a swivel. We’ll deal with the rest.”
Papa grunted agreement, then hung up.
My heart swelled with the feeling of family.
“Bronc has no idea what those words mean to me. Besides my mother, I’ve never had a family before. This moment is thefirst time in my life I’ve felt like that’s not the case.” I know I sounded pathetic, but it needed to be said.
He reached for my hand across the console, his palm rough but steady. I let him take it, clinging like a lifeline.
The prairie was pitch black outside the cab. The only light came from the dashboard and the occasional sweep of headlights across fenceposts and barbed wire. The engine was a low, soothing rumble, and the smell of leather and sugar clung to my clothes.
“Sunshine,” he said, voice soft now, “you okay?”
I tried to nod. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.
He squeezed my hand so hard it almost hurt. “None of this is your fault. Don’t ever say that.”
“But—” My throat closed up. “If I weren’t here, the pack wouldn’t be—”
He cut me off. “Don’t. You belong here. You heard what Bronc said. And I want you here. We’ll protect you.”
I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. “I need to bake for the ceremony,” I said. “I won’t let them stop me.”
He smiled, just a little. “That’s my girl.”
