This is where instinct and responsibility collide.
“She stays protected,” I say. “But she doesn’t get sidelined.”
Magnus studies me.
“You’re letting her stay involved?”
“I’m not letting her do anything,” I reply. “She’s choosing it.”
A flicker of approval crosses his expression.
“Good,” he says. “She’ll need that strength.”
Because she’s going to need all of it. We all are.
—
The first attack comes before nightfall. Not a full assault. Not yet. Just a test. Three rogues hit the outer boundary near the western trail, fast and coordinated. They don’t push deep.
They don’t need to. They’re probing. Looking for weaknesses. Measuring response time. We meet them before they get far.
I shift mid-stride, bones cracking, muscle reshaping as my tiger takes over in a rush of instinct and power. The world sharpens. Narrows. Focuses. There’s no hesitation. No doubt. Only action.
We drive them back quickly, forcing them across the boundary, but not before one of them lunges too close—testing, always testing.Next time,their retreat says.We come harder.
I shift back once they’re gone, breathing hard, adrenaline still coursing through me. This was nothing. A warning shot. And we both know it.
By the time night falls, Redwood Crossing is no longer the quiet, hidden town it was yesterday. It’s a fortress. Patrols move in constant rotation. Lights burn later. Doors stay locked.
And the air?—
The air hums with anticipation. War doesn’t arrive all at once. It builds. Piece by piece.
Moment by moment. Until there’s no ignoring it anymore. I stand at the edge of town, looking out into the darkness beyond the trees. Somewhere out there?—
Damon is watching. Waiting. Planning. My tiger settles into a low, steady growl. Good.
Let him come. Because when he does?—
We’ll be ready. And this time?—
We won’t just defend. We’ll fight back.
21
TESSA
Iwake up reaching for him. And finding nothing. The space beside me is cold. Not just empty—cold, like he’s been gone for a while.
My eyes snap open, heart already racing before my brain fully catches up. The room is dim, early morning light barely pushing through the curtains, and for a split second I think?—
Something happened.
I sit up too fast, the blanket tangling around my legs as adrenaline spikes sharp and immediate.
“Archer?” I call out, my voice rough with sleep and something dangerously close to panic.
No answer. The house is quiet. Too quiet. The bond hums faintly in my chest—not alarmed, not broken, but… distant. Stretched thinner than I’ve felt it since everything between us snapped into place. That’s what steadies me. If something had happened to him?—
