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I scowl at him, not because he didn’t back me up, but because he’s fucking right and I hate it. I’m being an ass over her protection again, when I need to learn to let her be the badass she is.
Even if it sucks letting the woman I love face this kind of danger.
So I shut my mouth and nod once, giving in. But I might have a second beer after this shit is over.
Sable crosses her legs on the couch cushions and closes her eyes. We all watch her in silence as she begins to breathe deeply and purposefully. Her shoulders slump forward. Her hands go slack against her legs. All the tension seems to evaporate from her body as she slouches against the back of the couch like a rag doll.
“Sable?” I ask, my heart pounding.
Archer shoots me a warning glare, and Ridge punches me in the arm.
Dammit. I can’t help it. I’m trying to give her all the love and support I can, but I’m so nervous my palms are sweaty. I wish like fuck I could be the one to do this whole “looking into the witch’s mind” thing. Not because I don’t trust Sable to handle it, but because I’d rather take the risk myself and keep her out of it. She’s already been through an entire lifetime’s worth of pain and struggle, and I’ll be damned if I let her keep shouldering all this shit alone. No matter how adept she’s becoming at it.
I realize with a start that she is adept at this. She’s capable. Truly capable, and I trust her completely. It’s my own damn fears I have to get past.
This is something only Sable can do. I definitely couldn’t do it better, which isn’t a feeling I’m used to having. Half the time, nobody can fucking do anything right, and I have to do it my damn self. I’m competent, but everyone else isn’t.
Except Sable. I have a fucking scary amount of faith in her, even when I’m terrified she’ll get hurt. She’ll do her best, which is just as good as I’d do. So yeah, I might wish I could shoulder the burden, but in the end… she’s got this.
All I can do is hold her hand.
Long minutes pass. I watch her eyes move beneath her eyelids, wondering what she’s seeing. She hasn’t moved, not even a flinch, as if she’s in some kind of trance. I don’t even want to blink in case I miss something, in case she needs me, needs all of us. My eyes burn. I fight the urge to fidget or speak again. I fight the urge to wake her up.
Then she sucks in a deep breath, and her eyes pop open. Both of her hands fly out to grasp the seat cushions as if she needs an anchor to the real world. Her gaze darts around between us, dazed and unfocused for a few moments until she finally comes back to herself.
I know, without a doubt, I’m not imagining the fear in her eyes.
I reach out and take both her hands in mine. They’re shaking.
“What happened?” Ridge asks, putting his hand on her shoulder to comfort her.
Sable swallows hard, anxiety etching lines in her face. “I got information, but…”
“But what?” The question comes out a little too sharply, and I clench my jaw.
“I think…” She swallows. “Fuck. I tried to do it just like I did the last two times, but there was a strange feeling when I started to pull back. Almost like… almost like Cleo realized someone was in her head.”
Ridge swears lightly under his breath, and Archer’s features tighten as he asks, “Do you think she picked up on the bond?”
“I don’t know. Maybe not. I’m not sure she can feel the connection between us, but she definitely knew something was up.” Sable shudders. “Every time I probe inside her head, I risk getting discovered.”
“And I’m the asshole for not wanting you to do this,” I mutter, dreaming about that second beer as my nerves feel stretched to the limit.
“You’re not an asshole. And you’re right,” Sable says quietly. “I have to be careful. If Cleo figures out that I exist, she could use the connection between us in the same way I have been. She could creep into my head and learn everything. All our secrets. All our plans. We can’t let that happen.”
“What about the attack? Did you find out anything helpful?” Dare asks, rounding us back to the whole reason she did this in the first place.
She nods shakily. “Three days. It’s happening in three days. They hit some snags in planning, I think. I didn’t get any details, but I did get the sense they don’t want to move until they have their attack coordinated perfectly.”
“We should do the same with our defenses,” Archer says, scooting to the edge of the couch cushion and rubbing his hands together. “Now that we know what kind of timeline we’re on, we know how long we have to prepare. Let’s go over our plans again.”
“What plans?” I scoff. “We band together. We fight. End of story.”
Archer rolls his eyes, and Dare snorts. In some sense, they both know I’m right. We’ll do everything we can to plan for the shit the witc
hes might throw at us, but in the heat of battle, it’ll come down to two things.
Protecting our fellow wolves.
