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Forrest’s idea makes me laugh. “Right, my room. Where there’s a lot more opportunity for her to put her hands on something she could use to hurt me. Next thing I know, I’d have a dagger in my kidney—and I sort of like having two of them.”

Dad’s brows draw together, while Mom laughs lightly. I know what he’s thinking, what he doesn’t want to say in front of her. It’s taking too long for Lili to come around. I bristle under the weight of his stare but give no further reaction.

I’m relieved at the arrival of the half dozen wolves who comprise my father’s most trusted advisors. His beta, Thorne, leads the group, and he emits a weary sigh upon sinking into a chair. “I cannot wait to sleep in my own bed tonight. I might not wait that long—I might head straight to bed after this.”

“I appreciate all of you staying behind to settle things and to tie up loose ends,” Dad assures them as they enter and arrange themselves around the study. I’ve known their faces my entire life and have sat through countless meetings like this. I wonder if they intend to always sit in the same spots during these gatherings or if it happens without their noticing.

“At least now they know what we’ve been dealing with out here,” Thorne mutters, stretching out his legs in front of him. “All the description in the world isn’t the same as witnessing something for yourself. We got lucky.”

“Did we, though?” Dad ponders.

The council exchanges surprised looks. Forrest and I do, as well. “Unless you think your close call had nothing to do with luck,” I murmur.

“That isn’t what I meant.” Dad looks to the two of us, his gaze intense. “Tell me something. You’ve been out there on the field. You know how they think, how they operate. How they attack. Was there anything strange to you about that sneak attack last night?”

It all happened so fast. And while we fought, there wasn’t much time to unlock the secrets behind the witches’ motivations. It was kill or be killed, the same as ever.

“I’ll tell you what I saw out there,” he continues when neither of us responds. “I saw a bunch of witches who didn’t come to kill. Believe me,” he adds, raising his hands when questions and disbelieving exclamations nearly drown him out. “I realize they came prepared to fight if they had to. I know. I was there.”

Recognition is starting to dawn on me. “I know what you mean. It didn’t seem like an attack.” Dad nods slowly.

“What would you have called it?” Mom asks.

“They breached the border, sure. But they weren’t on the attack until we came running.”

“Exactly what I meant.” There’s pride in my father’s voice. He looks around the room. “They weren’t immediately on the offensive. The whole thing felt a lot more like they were caught red-handed, and anything that followed was an attempt at defending themselves.”

“What do you think it means?”

“They were looking for something—or someone,” Dad adds. “Considering the risk they took. It must have been something important. None of them survived to explain themselves, obviously.”

“We met with the alpha this morning to ensure their borders were properly fortified,” Thorne explains. “They seem to have a decent handle on things now. The alpha has promised their best fighters to come in advance of a second wave if necessary.”

He turns to Forrest and me. “And they will be training with you.”

I nod, as does my brother. “The sooner, the better. We can’t leave anything to chance.”

With that, Dad calls an end to the meeting. Everyone disperses with the promise to meet up again tomorrow. We’re going to be having a lot more of these meetings. War is on the horizon, after all.

With that in mind, Forrest and I excuse ourselves and head down to the training center. It’ll be up to us to make sure everyone’s fully prepared for whatever comes next. I’m almost glad for the distraction from the wolf waiting for me in the dungeon.

But she’s always there in the back of my mind. And that’s when I’m fortunate enough to be able to push her back there. Most of the time, she’s dead center, thanks to my wolf’s constant frustration. He wants the feel, sound, and taste of her. Even leaving the house and putting distance between us sets off a storm in my head.

Why won’t she give it up already? Why is she torturing me like this? That’s what it is, too. It’s fucking torture. I’ve heard the same stories we all hear as kids—why it’s important to be careful and not mark another wolf randomly. Because sure, the magic that binds us together will take root, but until the wolf who was bitten submits and agrees to the bond, both wolves are in for a lot of pain—figurative and literal. The pain of having to hold back, the pain of being refused. Like having everything you want right in front of you, within your reach—on the other side of a glass wall. Glass so thick it can’t be broken by any physical means.

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