“What is that?” I ask.
She moves to the window and peers out, going very still for a long moment.
“Three hundred,” she says quietly, stepping back from the glass. “Maybe more. And this is just the beginning.”
My blood turns to ice. “Three hundred what?”
“Feeders. Here for you.”
The words make my head spin. Three hundred. Here for me.
“Bree!” Gray’s voice now, closer. Urgent but not panicked. “You need to see this!”
The mist explodes around me, wild and protective, responding to the spike of adrenaline shooting through my chest.
Zira just watches it all with that same knowing expression, her smirk widening.
“I told you, Bree,” she says, voice rich with satisfaction. “You’re going to change everything.”
Chapter 9
Bree
Three hundred Feeders kneel in the clearing beyond the sanctuary doors.
The thunder of three hundred knees striking earth still echoes through the sanctuary walls.
Now they wait in perfect silence, bodies pressed close enough that I can feel their collective breath, their hope, their desperation.
I hover just inside the threshold, close enough to see them but not committed to stepping out. My hand grips the doorframe, knuckles white.
Behind me, the guys cluster in the entry hall. Each one processing this differently.
Rhett paces, heat radiating off him in waves. All of his protective energy with nowhere to go.
Wes stands perfectly still, but his eyes are hungry. All those people—he can feel the pull. Except he’s looking at me.
Gray leans against the wall, arms crossed, watching Wes and me more than the crowd. Waiting.
Jace spins a blade between his fingers, nervous energy crackling around him like static.
Theo sits on the bottom step, elbows on his knees, staring at nothing with that distant look that means he’s seeing too much.
Stellan and Thane talking in hushed tones as if I might be spooked by whatever they’ll say.
“This is getting ridiculous,” I mumble, not annoyed but a little overwhelmed by the surreal nature of it all. Three hundred people. Kneeling. Again. They really need to stop that. “Anyone know when the sanctuary will be throwing up the ‘no vacancy’ sign?”
I hear Stellan shift behind me, his voice carrying a note of amusement. “That depends.”
Thane clears his throat from closer than he was a moment ago. When did he move?
I glance at him, and he’s looking right back at me now instead of at the crowd. Something shifts in his expression—softer than usual.
“It won’t,” he says quietly, silver eyes holding mine. “The sanctuary will expand and adjust, as long as your heart wills it.”
The words settle somewhere under my ribs. Not just about the sanctuary. About him. About this.
About Us.
