I knew they were reeling more than any of us over Axel’s betrayal. I was stunned to my core, but it would be nothing compared to what they were feeling. And it was not just a betrayal, to kill the Grumps… I hoped he was dead. I hoped Thalia had seen it right. Because if he was alive… Diesel looked up from his plate and met my gaze, almost as if he knew what I was thinking.
I turned away from them. Yeah, I hoped Axel was dead. For their sakes, I hoped that was over for them, and once this was finished, if we survived, I wanted them to have the time to heal. I ate the rest of my sandwich, my heart heavy.
“Rowen.”
Wolfe was at my side. “Walk with me?”
“Always.” I took his hand and gave Diesel a quick wave as we left; Killian was…yep, Killian was asleep at the table. I looked back just before we went out to see Diesel lift him over his shoulder, no doubt to put him down to sleep in a bed. I really hoped it was a bed. Still, it was strange to see Diesel…gentle.
“I thought you and Diesel were in a better place,” Wolfe mused.
“We are.” I thought about it. “Yeah, we’re…good.”
“You always look surprised when you see him so…I don’t know.”
“Domesticated?” I teased. “Yeah, he doesn’t give off the warm snuggly feeling.”
Wolfe draped his arm over my shoulder. “If it’s snuggles you want, mate, you should have asked.”
I smiled, leaning into him as we walked. “They think breaking one territory weakens you,” I said softly.
Wolfe’s mouth curved into something that was almost a smile. “Let them keep thinking it.”
The night grew darker around us, heavy with warning, because somewhere beyond the ridgeline, the Pack Council was on the move. Coming for us. Coming forhim.
Wolfe exhaled once, slow and controlled—like a predator steadying before the attack. “Rowen,” he murmured, eyes on the horizon, “the pack will need to be ready.”
“They are, you saw it yourself,” I assured him. I hesitated. “You know Ezra?” Wolfe nodded, his eyebrow raised in question. “I know he’s older,” I started cautiously. “But he’s a good fighter, reliable.”
“Why are you telling me about him?” Wolfe asked curiously.
“He’s also an excellent tracker,” I said honestly. “He’s gnarly and maybe not as fast as he used to be in the training ring,” I said, coming to a stop. “But if you need someone to find Brand, and it can’t be Diesel or Killian or Cody…I’d send Ezra.”
Wolfe nodded. “Okay.”
I blinked. Wait, what? “That’s it? Okay?”
He shrugged. “You know the strengths of the pack, Rowen. If you think he’s the best placed to go, send him.”
He was serious. “I’ll go talk to him.” I stepped back, not hiding my pleased smile. “You’re going home? No detours!”
He nodded. “I need an hour, nothing more.” He stepped into my space and kissed me. His mouth claiming mine, the kiss deep enough to make my toes curl. “Wake me in an hour, mate,” he whispered against my cheek. “Good luck with Ezra.”
Wolfe never gavean official order to move.
The pack responded to emotion—fear, unity, determination—and at this moment, emotion buzzed beneath my skin like a live wire.
Wolfe spoke to Killian and Diesel, they delegated, and the pack rallied.
And for a moment, I just watched—the pack moving as one living thing, the Hollow pulsing beneath it, my mate standing at the center as if he were carved for war.
I’d woken him up as he asked. I’d given him more than an hour, but I hadn’t pushed it to two; I knew better. I woke him up nice and slow, and Wolfe had stolen another thirty minutes of the night as he moved over me, driving slow and deep inside me, centering us both.
He was conducting the pack like a maestro; it wasn’t magic or strength, but purpose.
As I watched, I felt something shift in me too.
This was my pack. My people. My responsibility, and his. So much his, but the leadership my father had instilledin me still yearned to be recognized. I turned away from Wolfe and moved toward the group of wolves near the shelters—mothers, older wolves, and the youngest. They looked at me as if they were waiting for someone to tell them how to breathe.
