Page 130 of Pack Baby for the Silver Foxes

That should’ve been impossible. Guards stood between the house and the gate. The helicopter was still dragging noise across the sky, and Sienna’s firm hand on my shoulder kept me inside the Range Rover.

None of that mattered.

My sister appeared running through the rain with Gregor behind her, Ivan at her side with what looked like an enormous gun, and Artem moving a few paces back with a phone to his ear and a face so cold it made the air look warmer.

Maeve yanked the car door open. “Mary.”

I made a sound that might have been her name and reached for her like I was five years old and had woken from a nightmare.

Maeve climbed into the car and wrapped both arms around me.

She smelled like home. Mac’s shampoo, Mila’s biscuits, her own soft omega warmth, and the faint scent of her pack clinging to her sweater.

“I’ve got you,” she whispered.

“I shouldn’t have left my alphas. But I didn’t think he’d dare come here again.”

“Money is a driver for him. He’s too stupid to know better.”

A laugh broke out of me and turned into a sob halfway through.

Maeve held me tighter.

Outside, Artem’s voice carried through the rain in Russian. Ivan answered him, sharp and fast. Gregor stood by the open door, enormous and silent, his hazel eyes fixed on the sky above and the retreating helicopter.

“Is he gone?” I asked.

Maeve’s hand moved over my hair. “Not yet. But about thirty rifles are currently aimed at the helicopter so I reckon he won’t try again.”

“I threatened him with Artem,” I said.

“That was excellent work.”

I glanced at Artem. “I may have over-promised.”

Ivan appeared beside Gregor, he lifted the gun draped across his arms. “He was warned to stay away from here and he breached that deal. He no longer has any grace left.”

Maeve looked up. “You’re going to blow the helicopter up?”

“We had a deal.” Ivan looked at the helicopter with sneer and pointed the gun at it.

Gregor coughed.

Artem glanced at him.

Maeve narrowed her eyes. “Ivan.”

Ivan growled, “I explained the options. He breached the agreement, and I’m not having him threaten you or Mary again. Now can I kill the bastard?”

“He’s too far away,” I said.

“Not for this bad boy. It’s a heat seeking rocket launcher.”

Despite everything, I laughed. “You’re crazy,” I said just as the helicopter turned and banked low, swinging back toward us.

The rotor wash flattened the grass in a wide circle. My hair whipped across my face. The thud of the blades pressed into my chest.

A shot cracked through the air.