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“There were some complications,” I say to my hunters. “We’re handling it.”

“We,” Roman repeats. “You and the witch?”

“Him and the witch,” Astra confirms, stopping beside him.

He almost falls off the chair.

The corner of her lip tips up. She sits in the last remaining chair, evening out our five to six.

Silence meets her.

My wolf is amused at this show of confidence, and I personally am curious to see what she does next after sitting at a table full of shifters.

She plucks a waffle off my plate and bites into it with a viciousness that seems to set my wolves on edge. She devours the whole thing while they watch, then licks her fingers clean. She takes a mug at random—it’s probably Roman’s, I think, judging from the way his eyebrows hike—and fixes it the way she likes.

Some cream, a packet of sugar.

“Well, don’t let me stop your discussion. What am I handling with your master?”

“He’s not our master,” Jessamine snaps.

Astra quirks her eyebrow. “He says jump, and you don’t even bother asking how high. You just do it. Sounds like⁠—”

“He’s our alpha.” My sister leans forward. “Which is a position of respect⁠—”

“I don’t think the BDSM community would like you implying that the title of master doesn’t hold respect, dog.” Astra sets the mug down. Her gaze flicks down Jessamine’s body, to where my sister still has a hand pressed to her belly. She takes the new curves in stride, only taking a steadying breath at the clear marker of time passing. But then she focuses on me. “Why are they here?”

“Because we need to figure this out together,” I say under my breath. “Seeing as how you ruined our only lead.”

She scoffs. “I didn’t ruin it. I just didn’t include you when I handled it.”

“You know, then? A way to break our curse?”

She doesn’t respond. In fact, she seems a little guilty—like maybe she didn’t even ask. The longer I watch her, the less convinced I am that she solved the mystery of how to break the curse.

I think something else happened—perhaps something worse—and now she’s trying to figure out a lie to go with it. The payment it required might explain the pain I felt.

The niggling sense that I should just tell her what the curse is and why we need to break it returns full force. We’re all silent, hoping she’ll speak, but I know she won’t tell us shit until we start giving her some answers, too.

Jessamine seems more inclined to break her arm than tell her anything. Coral wouldn’t, and neither would Griffin.

In the end, it’s Roman who decides for me. He has more to lose than I do if we fail. I’d lose my sister, but he’d have to watch his mate die. And then raise their child, if it survives.

And if it’s a female… he’ll do it again with his child when she grows up and finds her mate.

“Jessamine will die if you don’t break the curse,” he says to Astra.

He doesn’t seem afraid of her—not after her display with the food. It’s like she’s laid out her cards with that one move, and he’s read her for what she is.

I wish he’d tell me.

We already know. My wolf chuffs.

She straightens, suddenly serious. “Why?”

“Because she’s pregnant.” His voice is pained. “And the curse takes all female shifters from this world in childbirth.”

Jessamine glares daggers at him. The way he stares back at her makes me wonder if they’re having a silent conversation. Their eyes both go a little unfocused, but the witch beside me doesn’t notice. She’s too horrified by the information she’s digesting.