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I hold my hands up between them all, my face hard and fear pumping through my veins.

Jumping into the middle of a wolf fight wasn’t the smartest thing I’d ever done—in fact, it has to make the list of top five stupidest things I’ve ever done—but at least no one accidentally ripped me to shreds before they realized what was happening.

Archer is the first to shift back to human form, crouching on the ground naked just as he was as a wolf. His transformation sets off a domino effect, with Ridge turning back next, then Dare, and finally Trystan.

None of them look happy about the situation. They all look furious—except maybe Archer, whose enigmatic expression remains neutral.

I keep my gaze firmly above everyone’s shoulder-level as I lower my hands. My heart feels like it’s on the verge of exploding inside me, and I suck in a deep breath, then another, trying to calm the damn thing so I can speak with more authority than I feel.

“I won’t let you fight,” I say. My voice sounds thin and weak at first, but it gains strength as I find my footing. “I don’t know what this thing is between us. Or between me and Dare either,” I add, motioning to the quiet, brooding man behind me. “But I refuse to let you hurt each other because of it.”

22

Archer

Holy fuck. She’s magnificent. Single-handedly the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, standing between us with her hair wild and a hard glint in her eyes.

I can scent her fear. There’s a tension in her body that speaks of a deep urge to run, the way a deer would bolt at the crack of a twig in the night. But she doesn’t. She stands there, chin in the air, stance wide and unmoving, despite the four powerful, intimidating shifters staring her down.

Sable, my beautiful mate, refuses to bend, and this glimpse of the warrior inside her—the wolf inside her—sends a wave of warmth and respect through me.

Back in the council’s meeting house, I felt an instant and undeniable connection to her because of the mate bond. Not exactly a bond a shifter can ignore, or have any control over at all, really. But every day we’ve spent together since, I’ve learned more about her, gotten to know what makes her tick. It’s only made me care for her more.

She’s an amazing woman. Stronger than she even knows. Soft but unbreakable, vulnerable but with a spine of steel. Now it’s more evident than ever what a firecracker she really is. I don’t know her whole back story, though I’ve pieced some clues together and built my own theory. But if her previous life is as bad as I suspect, I know how much strength it takes for her to stand up in the face of violence.

And she just threw herself in the middle of serious violence.

Her voice wobbles as she goes on. “Just stop this. Now. You’re not monsters.”

It’s the crack on the last word that makes my protective hackles raise. She’s losing that initial steam, and her past trauma is overtaking her resolve and anger. From my own experience, I know she’s about to crumble.

So I go to her.

I hear a low growl from Trystan’s direction, like that fucker has any business trying to calm a broken woman. I don’t give a rat’s ass if he’s pissed I’m taking control. I don’t care if any of them are pissed about it.

Sable barely moves as I gather her into my arms. She’s stiff, her entire body shivering, not from the cool air but from her emotions. It takes her a few seconds to relax into my embrace and sink against me. Her arms finally wrap around my waist, and she presses her face into my chest just before tears crest over her cheeks.

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nbsp; I cup the back of her head, letting my fingers play over the satin strands of her hair. “Shh. It’s okay. Breathe through it. Like we did before, you remember?”

She immediately follows my order, her chest rising and falling with deep, even breaths against my torso. The press of her breasts against me and the rest of her soft form flush against mine, separated only by the thin cloth of her nightgown, makes my body react immediately.

I can still smell her arousal, still sense hints of the way her body responded to Dare. I fight not to get hard, but it’s almost impossible with her this close. Between the mix of her lingering scent and her curves against me, it’s not an easy battle.

I don’t want to scare her. I want to be there for her.

So I focus my gaze on Trystan’s dumb ass as a means to deflate.

Nobody moves for several long moments. Sable is crying silently, her tears wet on my skin. The good news is she’s not lost in her panic like she was the first night we arrived. So I keep petting her hair and tell her, “You’re okay. Everything’s going to be okay,” over and over as the moon rides higher in the sky.

Eventually, even the tension from our companions dies away. The alpha anger fades from the air, and they stand down as concern for Sable replaces the fury. Gotta hand it to them—they adapt fast and put her first.

As mates should.

Is it really possible that we’re all connected to her by a mate bond? It’s a surreal concept. We’re not the only shifter packs in the world, so I know there are more wolves out there who might have seen multiple mates that we wouldn’t know of.

But in our circles, one wolf mates with one wolf. Period.

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