Page 119 of Lilacs and Whiskey


Font Size:

"I'll call Bradley first." Nolan nodded, already pulling out his phone, his brow furrowed in thought, his fingers moving across the screen. "He's had run-ins with Easton before. If anyone knows what we're dealing with, it's him."

"Sawyer, I want extra patrols." Reid turned to the silent Alpha, their eyes meeting in wordless communication, someunderstanding passing between them. "Day and night. If anyone sets foot on this property who shouldn't be here, I want to know about it."

"Done." Sawyer's voice was a growl, low and dangerous, his hand still on my knee, his body tense with readiness, his pale eyes burning with barely leashed violence that should have frightened me but didn't.

"Kol." Reid turned to the youngest Alpha, his expression softening slightly, something passing between them that I couldn't quite read. "I need you to stay close to Aster. When she's not with one of us, you're her shadow. Can you do that?"

Kol's jaw tightened, his golden eyes flashing with something fierce I'd rarely seen from him, his grip on my hand tightening until our fingers were intertwined, his scent shifting to something that smelled like ozone before a storm.

"Anyone who tries to touch her goes through me first." His voice was low, steady, completely devoid of his usual lightness, his scent shifting to something darker, more dangerous — storm clouds rolling over sunshine. "I'm not just sunshine, Reid. I can be storm too."

Something passed between them — understanding, respect — and Reid nodded once, approval flickering in his dark eyes.

"I know you can." He turned to address all of us, his voice heavy with determination, his cedar scent solidifying into something like steel. "He doesn't get to touch what's ours. This pack protects its own. Whatever it takes."

The days that followed were tense, watchful. I learned to move differently — always aware of where the others were, always accompanied by at least one of my Alphas. It chafed against my independence, against the feral instincts that had kept me alive for so long by relying on no one but myself.

I also saw the fear in their eyes. The way Reid's jaw tightened every time I left his sight. The way Nolan checked onme constantly under the guise of medical concern, his hands lingering on my shoulders, my wrists, my face. The way Sawyer positioned himself between me and any door, any window, any potential threat. The way Kol's jokes came a little too fast, a little too bright, covering the worry that lurked beneath his sunshine smile.

They were scared. Really, truly scared. Despite my frustration, I couldn't bring myself to make it worse by fighting them.

More incidents followed. Equipment that mysteriously broke overnight. A ranch hand who quit without notice, muttering about better offers elsewhere, refusing to meet anyone's eyes. Legal papers arriving with challenges to property lines that had been settled for decades, forcing Reid to spend hours on the phone with lawyers.

"He's trying to bleed us dry." Reid said one night, exhaustion carved into every line of his face, dark circles bruising the skin under his eyes, the papers spread across his desk like evidence of war. "Death by a thousand cuts. Make it too expensive, too difficult to keep operating. Force us to sell."

"Can he do that?" I stood behind him, my hands on his shoulders, feeling the tension coiled in his muscles like a spring about to snap, his cedar scent sharp with stress and fatigue.

"He can try." His hand came up to cover mine, his thumb stroking across my knuckles, the touch grounding for both of us, his voice rough with exhaustion and something darker — determination, maybe, or rage held barely in check. "But this ranch has been in my family for generations. I'm not letting some entitled bastard take it from me."

"From us." I corrected softly, leaning down to press a kiss to his temple, my lips brushing against his silver-streaked hair, breathing in his scent. "It's our home now. All of ours."

He turned, pulling me into his lap, his arms wrapping around me like he could physically hold back the threats closing in around us, his face buried in my hair, his breath warm against my neck.

"I won't let him hurt you." The words were fierce, desperate, muffled against my hair, his arms tightening until I could barely breathe, his whole body trembling with the force of his conviction. "Whatever else happens, whatever I have to do — he doesn't get to touch you. I swear it."

"I know." I held him tighter, feeling the weight of his fear, the burden of leadership he carried on his shoulders, my fingers threading through his dark hair. "We'll get through this. Together."

He didn't answer, just held me closer, and I felt something cold settle in my stomach. Because I could hear what he wasn't saying.

He wasn't sure we would get through this. Not intact. Not unscathed. He was going to fight like hell to try. I found Nolan in the clinic the next morning, reorganizing supplies that didn't need reorganizing, his movements sharp and agitated.

"You're supposed to be resting." I leaned against the doorframe, watching him stack and restack boxes of bandages, his sandy hair disheveled, his hazel eyes tired.

"Can't rest." He didn't look up, his hands moving faster, his scent carrying notes of anxiety that made my chest ache. "Too much to do. Too much to worry about."

"Nolan." I crossed the room, catching his hands, stilling their frantic movement. "Look at me." He did, and I saw it then — the fear he'd been hiding behind his professional calm. The terror that something would happen to me, to the pack, to everything they'd built.

"He's not going to win." I cupped his face, forcing him to hold my gaze, my thumbs stroking across his cheekbones. "You hear me? We're stronger than him. All of us together."

"I know." His voice cracked slightly, his hands coming up to cover mine, his eyes closing briefly. "I know. I just... I can't lose you. Any of you. I spent so long alone, looking for pack, and now that I've found it..."

"You're not going to lose us." I pulled him into a hug, feeling his arms wrap around me, his face pressing into my neck, breathing me in like I was oxygen. "We protect each other. That's what pack means."

He held me for a long time, his heartbeat gradually slowing against my chest, his scent softening from anxiety to something warmer, more settled.

"Thank you." The words were muffled against my shoulder, his arms tightening briefly before releasing me. "For being here. For believing in us."

"Always." I pressed a kiss to his forehead, tasting the salt of his skin. "Now come get breakfast. Kol's making pancakes, and you know how he gets if we don't appreciate his cooking."