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“That’s an exaggeration,” Archer says as he rolls up the blueprints and slides the sheets back into the plastic tube for safekeeping. Then he hesitates, grinning slightly. “But I do think Trystan’s right. Go sit down and eat lunch. Don’t forget to take your vitamins when you’re done eating.”
I gesture toward my mates and look exasperatedly back at Amora. “See? Exhibit A. They’re even dictating what foods I eat. It’s like they think I can’t take care of myself!”
“We’re just thinking of the—”
“Yes, the baby, I know.” I sigh and wag my finger playfully at Archer. “I’m pregnant, not an invalid. I can help with building and plans, and I’m definitely capable of walking farther than the distance from the couch to the kitchen.”
Ridge leans over and kisses my forehead. “We know. But you don’t have to do those things when you have us to do them for you.”
Amora shakes her head with an amused chuckle. “Good luck with all this overly macho, protective alpha nonsense. If you feel the urge to punch one or all of them, I fully encourage it.”
All four of my men start in on Amora, who returns their banter with rapid fire precision like always. But I’m not paying attention—I can sense Gwen coming down the road behind me.
I turn and seek her out. It’s a beautiful day, so half the shifters on this street are outside, mowing lawns, kids playing in the small front yards, neighbors chatting together on the sidewalks. It’s idyllic—just the kind of place I can’t wait to raise my child in.
Gwen is a block away, greeting one of the village elders with a kind smile and a handshake. They exchange a few words before she nods at him, then continues her journey toward us. Her green gaze meets mine, and she lifts her chin a little in greeting.
She’s been here ever since the battle, staying with us while she helps secure the new borders around pack lands. With Cleo gone, the witch threat is essentially over, but it wouldn’t do to let our guard down, in case some other psychopath decides to pick up where Cleo left off. So she and I have redone all the wards and come up with a plan for ensuring they remain active and viable for years to come. I certainly don’t expect the same kind of concentrated attacks driven by Cleo, but in this world, you just never know.
“Alphas,” Gwen greets the men with a polite nod. “Sorry for interrupting, but I was hoping I might have a word with you all.”
“Of course.” I nod. “Is everything okay?”
Gwen takes a deep breath, then lets it out. She hesitates for a moment, then says, “You know I’ve loved my time here.”
“We’ve loved having you here,” I assure her, and it’s the truth.
Since she’s been staying here, Gwen’s presence, even more than mine, has helped the pack as a whole learn that not all witches are evil. I was sort of hoping she’d become a permanent resident of the village, but something about the tone of her voice tells me I’m going to be sad to hear what she says next.
“And several weeks have passed since the battle without incident,” she goes on. “I think it’s safe to say you shouldn’t anticipate any witch attacks going forward. That being said, I think it’s time for me to return home.”
My heart clenches, and I do my best to keep the disappointment from my expression. I’ve loved having another witch around to practice with.
“My time here has been peaceful, and I truly love this pack.” Gwen’s expression softens even as she shakes her head. “But I never intended to live among wolf shifters.”
“And we wouldn’t expect that of you,” Ridge offers. “You’ve done more for us than we can ever repay.”
Archer speaks up. “What will you do now?”
“I think I’ll go home to my cabin for a while. Take time for solitude and to recuperate. Going from total silence and peace to the chaos of this place was exhausting.” She laughs, and her gaze moves over the mountains. “Then I might begin to build my own coven. One based on empathy and compassion for everyone and everything. I imagine there are at least a few like-minded witches out there who want a place to call home.”
I clear my throat, trying to shove down my raging emotions, since they’re amplified by the pregnancy hormones. “Well, just so you know, you’ll always have a family here too.”
Gwen smiles and offers me her hand. “I know. And I’m sure we’ll see each other again someday.”
Her palm is cool and soft in mine, and I can feel the barest hint of power beneath her skin. “Good luck,” I tell her. “And thank you.”
Gwen makes the rounds, shaking the alphas’ hands and exchanging farewells with them. But when she gets to Amora, she hesitates, staring at the shifter as a look of uncertainty passes over her face.
Then, instead of taking Amora’s offered hand, Gwen steps closer and whispers something in her ear. I strain to hear what’s being said, unable to help myself even though it’s nosy as hell. But after weeks of being around shifters and their heightened senses, Gwen knows how to speak just low enough that I can’t hear her words.
r /> After a moment, she steps back and sweeps her gaze over the group of us one more time.
“Keep in touch,” she says. Then she heads back down the street, presumably to get her things and start the long journey back to her mountain.
Amora hasn’t moved. She’s still in the same position she was in, hand held out in mid-air and a strange look on her face. I’m dying to know what Gwen told her, but if the witch worked that hard to keep us from overhearing it, then I can’t help but think it’s none of my business.
As Gwen turns out of sight down the road, Amora shakes her head and drops her hand back to her side, the startled confusion in her expression giving way to her usual confident, casual demeanor. She glances around at the alphas, who are all wearing nearly identical looks of concern as they gaze at her.
