"I should go up there," Logan says, and every protective instinct I have roars in protest.
"Like fuck you should," I growl, sitting up straighter. Savannah makes a small sound of protest as I shift her, but I keep one arm around her waist. "You think I'm letting you walk into an ambush?"
"It's not an ambush if I'm expecting it," Logan points out with that irritating calm of his. "And someone needs to draw them away from here. If they figure out where she is..."
He doesn't need to finish. We all know what happens if a group of well-meaning but instinct-driven alphas finds an omega in heat. Even good people can lose control when biology takes over. It doesn't matter that she's claimed or that she's got three pack alphas here. If enough of them gather outside this door, their combined instincts could overwhelm their better judgment, and someone could get hurt trying to 'help.'
"I'll go," Xavier says quietly. "I'm faster than either of you."
"No." Logan's voice has that tone that means the decision is final. "This is part of my job, running away from danger. Protecting. I should do it."
He’s right. Xavier mends people. Logan faces the most danger day-to-day than all of us.
Most of the time I respect the hell out of him for it.
Savannah pushes herself up on her elbows, looking between the three of us. "Wait. What exactly are you planning to do?"
Logan meets her eyes, and I can see him calculating, weighing options. "I'm going to lead them away from here. Make them think you're somewhere else."
"How?"
"By carrying something that smells like you. Your shirt, maybe. Lead them on a chase through the resort until they lose interest."
Savannah frowns. "That's... actually not terrible. But what if they don't follow you?"
"Then Griff and Xavier will handle them."
The confidence in his voice is absolute, and it sends a warm rush of pride through my chest. Logan trusts us to protect what matters most. Trust us to keep Savannah safe while he plays decoy.
"I don't like this," Savannah says, and her voice has taken on that stubborn edge that means she's about to argue. "It's dangerous. What if something happens to you?"
Logan's expression softens, just a little. "Nothing's going to happen to me. I'm not planning to engage them directly. Just lead them away and disappear into the storm."
Another sound from upstairs. This time it's definitely footsteps, and they're moving with more purpose. Whoever they are, they're getting bolder.
"Decide now," Xavier says urgently. "They're moving toward the basement door."
Logan is already pulling off his jacket, then his shirt. "Savannah, I need something with your scent. Something strong."
She doesn't hesitate. She sits up and gives Logan his flannel shirt. She was wearing it earlier, I think - and hands it to him. The movement leaves her bare from the waist up, and the sight of her like that, flushed and marked and perfect, makes my mouth go dry.
Focus, Griff. Now is not the time.
Logan takes the shirt and presses it to his face, breathing in deeply. When he pulls it away, his eyes are darker than before. "This should work."
"Give me ten minutes. If I'm not back in an hour..."
"You'll be back," I interrupt. Because he will be. Logan's too smart and too stubborn to let himself get caught by a bunch of territorial assholes.
He nods, then moves to the small window near the ceiling. It's barely big enough for a person to squeeze through, but it opens onto an alley behind the building. Logan has always been good at finding the exits.
"Lock this behind me," he says. "Don't open it for anyone but me."
Xavier is already moving to help him up. Logan boosts himself through the window, pausing only long enough to look back at Savannah.
"Be safe," she whispers.
"Always am," he replies, and then he's gone.
