“I can go.”
My husband and his beta both looked at me like I had sprouted two heads.
Diesel leaned forward. “Excuse me?”
“Wow.” I grinned. “That might be the politest thing you’ve ever said to me, Diesel.”
“You’re right.” He shook his head. “I should have gone with ‘are you fucking crazy?’ but I didn’t want to push my alpha over the edge sincehe’s barely holding onto control as it is.”
I looked at Wolfe, ready to fire off a sassy reply, and then shut my mouth when I saw the silver-eyed glare of my alpha. Oh.
“Oh…um, I just meant?—”
Wolfe pulled me close, his lips on mine as he spoke—not kissing, just there, holding me. “I will chain you to the fucking bed if you think I’m letting you outside of this Hollow, Rowen. Do you understand me?”
Well, see, that was just rude, and now I was pissed off.
“You chain me to the bed,mate,or even think you cankeep me from this fight, and I will pluck out every hair on your body with tweezers so sharp you’ll wish you were bald.”
Diesel snorted out a laugh, and I felt Wolfe’s lips twitch against mine. He stepped back. “You’re not going anywhere,” he told me in a much more reasonable tone. “You stick with me, or the druid.” Wolfe glanced at Diesel. “Find Cody, pick someone, not him.” Wolfe held his gaze. “Make sure Killian is eating or sleeping.”
Diesel tipped his chin and vanished into the night.
The Hollow hummed beneath my boots, not responding to magic this time, but to momentum—to the will of a united pack shifting into war readiness.
Wolfe turned back to me. “Rowen.” His voice softened, just for me. “Is everything with the druid ready?” He lifted his head, scanning the clearing. “The pack hall?”
I nodded. “They knew this was coming. We have cover and plenty of shelters. The young and the elders are taken care of. We’re ready for what’s next.”
“Good.” His hand brushed mine—brief but grounding. “I mean it, you don’t leave Blueridge Hollow, Rowen. You know this, don’t you?”
“I will not cower from our enemy,” I spoke softly but clearly.
Wolfe groaned. “You’re going to fight me,” he said with a sigh. “Why?”
“Because I’m your wife,” I told him confidently. “Your mate. And I am a fighter.” I pulled him down to my eye level. “If you sanction the druid to drug me again, we’re going to have a serious problem, Wolfe. Doyouunderstandme?”
He held my gaze. “We’re going to fight about this,” he said, completely reasonably. “But not tonight.”
“You need to sleep,” I agreed. “I’ll schedule the fight for later,” I sassed at him.
He didn’t say why because the Council was coming. He gave a reluctant smile. “I think I need to eat,” he confessed.
“Then let’s go see what there is.” I took his hand and led him to the pack hall. The kitchen staff had been running a skeleton crew for weeks, but they were still feeding the pack, and Goddess bless them for that.
Very soon, Wolfe had a plate of roast venison, mashed potatoes, and veggies. He ate like a starving man, and I wasn’t at all surprised when Diesel dropped down beside him, followed by Killian.
“Weren’t you supposed to be sleeping?” I asked Killian.
“Food,” Killian grunted.
I watched the three of them, their postures the same, their grip on forks identical, and their eating speed also the same. Goddess help me. They were practically clones.
“Remarkable.” I pushed to my feet and walked away from them, shaking my head. I made a sandwich while watching them; it was somehow both frustrating and soothing to see them eat together.
“Doesn’t matter who they are,” one of the cooks told me. “All men are the same when it comes to food.”
I let out a laugh in agreement. I ate my sandwich while chatting with the cook, my mind busy considering what was coming next. I thought about who in the pack was best suited to track down Brand and Cale. I kept glancing at the three males eating, their plates being refilled by serving pack, and hearing their murmured thanks as they ate.
