He winced.
“Your place in the pack is…” he grimaced. “Complicated.”
“I’d noticed.”
“I don’t know what it looks like yet,” he said. “Every luna before you was wolf. They ran the houses, kept the females in line, backed the alpha in public, shouted at him in private.” His gaze flicked to her mouth, then up. “You could do that. If you wanted.”
“Lead your women and bake pies?” she said. “You’ve met me, right?”
“The baking would be new,” he admitted.
She folded her arms. “I’m not saying I won’t help. Iamsaying I won’t lend you my power, that of my sisters, keeping your house for you while you keep hating what I am in your bones.”
They stared at each other. The bond hummed, needy and useless.
“I don’t hate you,” he said at last, rough. “I hate what witches did here. That’s different.”
“Doesn’t feel different from this side,” she murmured.
He moved to the coffee pot, poured a mug, and slid it over. Truce offering.
She took it. The first sip was strong enough to make her eyes water. “You need sugar.”
“I need to be awake,” he said. “Too much going on to get fancy.”
“How many more are coming?” she asked.
“Juneau delegation today. A couple of small packs tomorrow. Severney stragglers. More witches, if Lavinia hasn’t scared them off.” His mouth twitched. “Vampire emissary landed last night. Dom and Rory have them tucked away.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Yes, I didn’t see them at the bar last night.”
“They’re not fans of witches either,” he said. “This whole town is a powder keg.”
“You think it’s going to go bad.”
He exhaled through his nose, “I…I need to focus on the summit. On keeping everyone from tearing each other apart. I can’t be everywhere. And I don’t have a neat plan for where you fit in all that. Yet.”
“But you’ve got ideas for witches in general,” she said.
He didn’t deny it.
“You’re a resource,” he said bluntly. “Your coven is. So are the others. You see what we can’t. You ward what we can’t. Whatever’s pulling strings on hybrids is using magic. We need magic too, or we’re fighting blind.”
Fear edged the words. Real fear.
She set the mug down. “So I’m a tool.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t need to.”
He scrubbed his face. “I’m saying I need time. To sort out what I was taught from what’s actually in front of me. I’ve got witches in my town, wolves twitchy, vampires sniffing round the harbor, and a summit that might decide if half our packs survive. I can’t fix us and a hundred years of bad blood over breakfast.”
That honesty took some of the heat out of her anger.
“What do you need from me?” she asked, quieter.
He blinked, like he hadn’t expected that.
