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It would be a lie.
Dare doesn’t trust me.
And maybe he’s the only logical shifter in this cabin right now. Maybe he’s the one who’s got it right. They’re all playing with fire by being around me, risking their lives on the hope that I won’t lose control of my magic.
Ridge picks up a couple more plates with a nod. “Right. It’s our duty to ensure he gets the proper care he needs. Anybody else on pack lands would do the same for any one of us if we showed up beaten and bloody.”
“Except me,” I mutter, laughing softly under my breath. There’s no humor in it though. It’s hard to imagine what kind of reception I’d get on pack lands if people knew I was a witch. Or maybe I just don’t want to imagine it.
I rest my chin on my hand and stare at the dregs of my orange juice, feeling adrift. Like I don’t fit inside my own skin anymore.
“Well, that’s not true. I did take care of you,” Ridge says, his voice teasing. He picks up my plate and empty glass. “I found you scratched up and bloody at the bottom of Devil’s Ditch and carried you home. Or did you forget?”
I flush. “Right. Thank you for that.”
“And that was before I knew you.” His amber eyes soften as he gazes down at me. “Now that I do, I’d do more than just take care of you. I’d move mountains to keep you safe
. You know that, right?”
My cheeks heat even more, emotion making my chest feel tight. I don’t trust my voice not to break if I answer, so I just nod.
“Good. Because we all would,” Ridge goes on as he walks to the sink, his tone allowing no argument. “Me. Archer. Trystan. Even Dare, once he comes to his senses.”
“And gets his head out of his ass,” Trystan grunts.
I cringe, shooting a glance toward the living room. “I don’t know about that. He seems pretty sure that he wants nothing to do with me. He has literal holes in his body and still tried to crawl across the couch to get away from me.”
“I don’t think he’s in his right mind right now,” Archer points out as he slides the basket of grounds into the coffee maker and hits the button to brew. “Give him time.”
Archer turns his back on the percolating coffee pot, leans a hip on the counter, and looks at me pointedly. “Dare has his issues, Sable, but he’ll come around. In the meantime, you aren’t alone, and we will care for you to the best of our ability. Technically, we’ve already taken care of you a few times. Beyond the night Ridge pulled you out of the ravine.”
“Like when Archer talked you into staying,” Ridge adds.
“And when we saved you from your uncle,” Trystan says. “All of us together.”
My cheeks burn. Hearing them list all the ways in which I’ve been in danger makes me feel like a weak little kid who shouldn’t be allowed to do anything without supervision.
From his place near the coffee maker, Archer goes on, switching gears. “Obviously, Dare’s leg is a situation that needs addressing,” he says, crossing his arms. “But we also need to address that there’s a very real chance Dare has witches on his trail now.”
Ridge scrubs a hand down his face. “Dammit. I didn’t even consider that.”
I sit up straighter, a pang of fear rolling over me as I process what Archer’s implying. “You mean witches might be following Dare here?”
“I’m not saying it’s a definite,” he assures me, “but it’s a possibility. He specifically sought them out to fight them. To kill them, not to make negotiations. They aren’t going to just sit back and accept that level of threat. He’s put himself, and all of us, in serious danger.”
“Please.” Trystan scoffs. “The witches won’t be able to step foot on pack land. They’ve been trying for months and can’t breach our boundaries.”
“That’s true,” Ridge acknowledges. “But it was true prior to Dare mowing them down like a paid assassin. We have no idea how many witches he managed to kill while he was there. Archer’s right—they aren’t going to just lick their wounds and forget about this. They’ve been close to breaching our borders for months. This incident could be the final push they need.”
“Revenge is a great motivator.” There’s a note in Archer’s voice that makes me think he knows exactly how true that is. I wonder how many times he’s dreamed about getting revenge on the witches for what they did to him.
“Even three healthy alphas can’t stand up against a coven of witches looking for vengeance,” Ridge says, taking a chair at the table across from me. “We can’t risk putting Sable in danger.”
“So we need more backup?” Trystan asks. “We can put out a call. Dozens of wolves from my pack would come help.”
Archer chuckles and turns back to the coffee pot. “This cabin is too small for dozens more wolf shifters.”
“You got a better idea?” Trystan shoots back irritably.
