Marty's expression softened. "She's seventeen, Dorian. She survived a targeted attack that killed three pack members and left her with scars she'll carry forever. Give her time."
Time.
As if time could heal the damage Dorian saw in his sister's eyes every day—the way she flinched at sudden movements, the dark circles that spoke of sleepless nights, the brittle smile she wore like armor whenever anyone asked how she was healing.
Before the attack, Lila had been vibrant and fearless, quick to laugh and quicker to argue when she disagreed with his decisions. She'd challenged him the way only family could, had reminded him that being Alpha didn't mean being right about everything. Now she moved through their home like a ghost, present but not really there, going through the motions of recovery while something essential remained broken inside her.
The sound of footsteps on gravel interrupted his brooding thoughts. Dorian's head snapped up, his wolf immediately alert as he scanned for threats. The instinct had become so automatic he barely noticed it anymore—the constant assessment of every sound, every scent, every change in the environment that might signal danger.
But it was only his grandmother approaching, her silver hair gleaming in the afternoon light and her posture as regal as ever despite her seventy-two years. Evelyn Holt had been the backbone of their family since that terrible night eighteen yearsago, had stepped into the role of mother and mentor when Dorian was too young and too broken to handle everything alone.
"Grandmother." Dorian set down his hammer, automatically straightening his shoulders. Even now, decades into his leadership, he felt the urge to stand taller in her presence.
"Boys." Evelyn's sharp blue eyes—so similar to his own—swept over their work with approval. "The Kellys will be pleased to see their home restored. Thomas would have appreciated the craftsmanship."
The mention of the dead pack member sent another spike of guilt through Dorian's chest, but Evelyn's expression suggested she hadn't come here to discuss the attack or its aftermath.
"I have news," she continued, and something in her tone made Dorian's wolf prick its ears forward with interest. "Good news, for once."
Good news.
The phrase felt foreign in their current reality, where every day brought fresh concerns about security and every night carried the possibility of another attack. Dorian couldn't remember the last time anyone had approached him with genuinely positive information.
"What kind of good news?" he asked, though wariness colored his voice. In his experience, unexpected developments usually meant new problems to solve, new variables to control.
Evelyn's smile held secrets and satisfaction in equal measure. "I contacted Gerri Wilder about finding a specialist for Lila. Someone with experience in childhood trauma recovery who could help where our local resources have... fallen short."
Dorian's jaw tightened. The pack's previous attempts at finding Lila professional help had been disasters—well-meaning therapists who couldn't understand the complexities of shifterpsychology, or local healers whose methods felt too invasive for someone already struggling with trust and boundaries.
"And?" He kept his voice carefully neutral, though his wolf was already bristling at the idea of another stranger poking at his sister.
"Gerri found someone. A woman named Harper Lane—she's a licensed child trauma counselor with extensive experience treating victims of violence. Gerri spoke with her today, and she's agreed to come here tomorrow to work with Lila."
The name hit him like a physical blow, though Dorian couldn't understand why.
Harper.
His wolf surged to sudden, inexplicable attention, as if the simple sound of her name had awakened something that had been sleeping for years. The reaction was so unexpected, so completely out of proportion to the situation, that Dorian found himself momentarily speechless.
"A stranger," he said finally, forcing his voice back to its usual controlled tone. "Coming into our territory while we're still dealing with security threats."
"A healer," Evelyn corrected, her eyes glinting with something that might've been amusement. "Someone who specializes in helping children recover from exactly the kind of trauma Lila experienced."
Dorian's rational mind cataloged all the reasons this was a terrible idea. Unknown human entering their isolated community. Security protocols that would need to be adjusted. The risk of exposure if this Harper Lane couldn't be trusted to keep their secrets. His wolf, however, was practically vibrating with an anticipation that made no sense.
"I don't like unknown variables," he said, picking up his hammer again and gripping it hard. "Especially not now, when?—"
"When your sister is suffering and our pack is walking on eggshells?" Evelyn's voice carried the kind of sharp authority that had kept their family together through decades of loss and conflict. "When she won't shift, won't talk about the attack, and flinches every time someone approaches her too quickly?"
Each word landed like a blow, stripping away the careful control Dorian maintained around his sister's condition. He'd told himself that Lila was healing at her own pace, that pushing too hard would only cause more damage. But the truth was that she was getting worse, not better, and his attempts to protect her were only reinforcing her isolation.
"This Harper Lane," he said carefully. "What do we know about her background? Her ability to maintain confidentiality about shifter communities?"
"Gerri vouches for her completely. Apparently, she has experience working with shifter clients and understands the need for discretion." Evelyn stepped closer, her expression softening slightly. "Dorian, I know you want to protect Lila from anything that might cause her more pain. But sometimes healing requires risk."
His wolf paced restlessly, caught between the need to shield his sister from potential harm and a strange pull toward this unknown woman. The reaction disturbed him more than he wanted to admit. He'd spent years maintaining emotional distance from anything that might compromise his judgment or distract him from his responsibilities. Casual physical encounters when his wolf demanded release, but nothing deeper. Nothing that could be used against him or his pack.
"If she comes here and proves unsuitable, I'll send her away immediately," Dorian said, the words coming out harder than he'd intended.
