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I nearly let my lip pull up in a teeth-baring snarl and tackle him when his attention switches to me. But I don’t because I’m very aware of the fact that he owns this crowd around me. And of just how exposed I am when they all learn I’m not going along with their new fan club agenda—whatever that is. So, I force myself to play this role because the alternative is tipping my hand before I know what I’m doing with it.

I’m all yours now, I hear myself say. What can I do to help?

The words taste like ash on my tongue.

Ramsey’s smile reaches his eyes. That’s the worst part. He’s genuinely pleased. He’s looking at all these people I love standing on this lawn like they’re nothing more than puppets on strings.

When he orders me to kill Grey and Lexi, I almost lose it.

No problem.

The words catch in my throat, and I have to force myself to shove them out. But I say it. And I watch everyone around me echo it. Dutch and Razor and Crow, all of them with that same vacant cooperativeness.

And Nash.

Nash says it too, and whatever composure I’ve been holding in place cracks at the center. Not visibly. But something breaks open inside my chest when I hear his voice say yes—that familiar low cadence turned to nothing.

I look at Ramsey and see red.

Get to him, my wolf says. Now.

Not yet. I need a clear line.

The pack begins to move toward the house. Toward Grey and Lexi. I follow, knowing I’d never reach Ramsey before he saw me coming. Not from my current position.

So, I join the others as we converge on my alphas.

Framed by the open doorway, they stand. Grey’s hand finds Lexi’s without looking. I watch him clock the numbers—the estate staff, Nash, Marcus, our security forces, several members of the Crossvale pack—and I watch him do the math in real time and come out the other side of it with the same answer I have.

He looks at me.

It’s one full second. Just that. His eyes on mine across the lawn with the particular clarity of someone who has made a decision and needs me to know it.

Take him out, he says.

Not out loud. He doesn’t have to.

I nod.

I’ve got you, I say back, also without words. A language that’s only possible because he’s my alpha and, before that, my friend.

Then he turns to Lexi and gives her a look that I know contains words only she can hear.

She nods, the fear only contained because she believes in her mate’s ability to protect her. I can only hope she’s right.

They shift mid-step—two huge wolves where two people were, the speed of it so fluid it barely registers as a change—and then they’re gone, blurring through the gates on the east side of the estate grounds before the advancing line has reached the terrace steps.

“Go get them,” Ramsey calls.

The wolves surrounding me begin to shift and run after Lexi and Grey.

All of them, one after another, the wave of it rolling down the line—Razor and Crow and Dutch and a dozen others, their wolves given the instruction and taking it without question.

“Don’t worry,” Ramsey says gleefully. “If they don’t catch your alphas, my pack will. They’re all stationed and waiting to ambush.”

Merde. No wonder he didn’t bring them here. He wants Grey and Lexi oblivious until it’s too late.

I grab Nash’s wrist, yanking hard enough for him to look at me.