Even if the enemy in question was a person I was desperately trying to save.

As I came to the doorway of Lucas’s bedroom, I wondered if I would get over feeling this way around him, or if as long as Lucas was Snake Bend, a part of me would always want to bare my teeth at his presence on our land. He wasn’t a threat, but he also wasn’t mine, and I wasn’t sure I could convince my gut that there was a distinction to be made there.

Lucas, however much he didn’t want to be, was an extension of Shay. He smelled like Shay, and Shay would be a presence—no matter how faint—in his mind, the same way I was connected to Maddy, to Lake, to Dev.

“Is your alpha trying to talk to you through your pack-bond?” I asked, not bothering to say hello as I entered the room. “Is he telling you to come home?”

Except in the most extreme circumstances, werewolves couldn’t disobey their alphas. The stronger ones—purebreds, like Dev, or Resilients, like Chase and the rest of the Changed Weres in our pack—could fight it, but even for them, holding out against a direct order was like trying to keep from blinking when a sharp object was flying straight for your eye.

“He’s trying,” Lucas murmured, face downcast, body stiff, “but I’m too far away.”

That smacked of the truth to me, even though I didn’t have a Were’s ability to smell lies. A wolf’s tie to his pack depended on how close he was to its other members—especially the alpha. The same principle that made the Wayfarer unbearably loud for Chase would have shielded Lucas more and more from Shay’s influence the farther away from Snake Bend territory he got.

“Your alpha emailed looking for you.” I wanted to soften my words but instead found myself saying them in a completely neutral tone and observing Lucas’s reaction. I’d spent too many years watching Callum do the same thing, and the experience had left its mark. “Shay wants you returned. I stalled, but unless we figure out a way around it, I’m going to have to send you back.”

“No.”

Lucas had opened his mouth to say the word, but the sound came from behind me. I turned.

Standing in the doorway, Maddy didn’t elaborate on her no. She didn’t challenge me. She just came to sit on a chair next to Lucas’s bed, her legs tucked under her body, her head tilted slightly toward his. She didn’t say another word. She didn’t introduce herself. She just sat there, watching over him, and his body curled toward hers, like they were pups in the same litter.

Like he could feel her presence the way I’d always felt Chase’s.

“Maddy.” It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her to be careful, but then I realized the irony of the situation: of the two of us, she was the one more capable of fighting back if Lucas made a move. Still, I didn’t like it. Didn’t like the idea that someone—anyone—might hurt her, after everything she’d been through already.

I’ll be careful, Bryn, Maddy promised silently, but someone has to keep an eye on him. It might as well be me.

I brought my gaze to meet Lucas’s. “I’m going to try to find a way to help you, but you need to know up front that I won’t trade my pack’s safety for yours. If I have to send you back to Shay to keep them safe, I’ll do it.”

I hated myself for saying those words and hated Callum for raising me to be the kind of person who could say them—but they just kept coming.

“If you lay a hand on Maddy, if you hurt her or any of mine in any way, I’ll kill you myself.”

As an alpha, I was bound by those words, and in that moment, I didn’t have a single doubt about my ability to follow through on the threat. Maddy could probably take care of herself, but if Lucas wasn’t what he appeared to be, if he attacked her or tried to force his will on hers in any way, Shay would be taking home a body instead of a live wolf.

On the bed, Lucas lowered his head in a sign of submission, and even from a distance, I could see an angry red scar on the back of his neck. Its edges were jagged, like it had been carved into his flesh with a knife, and the shape—a four-pointed star laid over a half circle—looked too deliberate to have been the product of anything but a steady hand.

How could Shay have done something like that? How could anyone?

Seeing Lucas sitting so close to Maddy made me imagine her in his shoes, and I knew without probing the edges of her mind that she was thinking the same thing, seeing herself—and the things she’d survived at the hands of the Rabid—in this boy.

“Unless you force me to act, I won’t turn you over until I have to.” I addressed Lucas, though he seemed to know that I was saying the words for Maddy’s benefit as much as his. “But right now, I don’t really have a plan, Lucas, so if you’ve got any ideas here, I’m all ears.”

Lucas retreated, pressing himself back and down into the mattress, and I cringed at the motion and the knowledge that I’d just established dominance over a person who had experience with only one kind of alpha.

“He doesn’t know anything.” Maddy lifted her chin and looked just over my left shoulder, a guarded, faraway gaze in her eyes. “They don’t want you to think. They don’t want you to believe it could be different.” She turned her face away from mine, but she didn’t look directly at Lucas, either. “It takes a while.”

I know, Maddy, I told her silently. I know.

Out loud, I directed my words to the boy on the bed. “I’ll give you as much time as I can, Lucas, but you need to know that I’m not magic. I’m not fearless. I can’t just pull a miracle out of my hat.”

“You’re Bryn.” Lucas lifted his head slightly. “That’s going to be enough.”

After a long moment’s consideration, I left Lucas under Maddy’s watchful eye, confident that, if nothing else, she wouldn’t let him slip off into the night unnoticed, leaving the rest of us to explain to the Senate exactly how I’d gone about losing a wolf that I’d already admitted to having, one who another alpha was within his rights to want back, once I’d dealt with the matter of trespassing in the first place.

Call me if you need me, Maddy, I told her silently, not even realizing until after I gave the order that to her ears, my mind-voice vibrated with the kind of power most werewolves couldn’t deny.

I’ll call you if I need you, Bryn, Maddy replied. I always do.

She trusted me, relied on me the way I’d once counted on Callum, before he’d taught me that sometimes things—and people—got caught in the crossfire of the greater good.

“Hey, you.” Chase had been expecting me, which was ironic, because even after I’d left Cabin 13 and started walking toward the woods, I hadn’t realized I was looking for him.

“Hey,” I replied, all too aware of the difference between the last time we’d had this conversation and now. There were times when it felt like Chase and I were the only two people in the world, when I was a girl and he was a boy and everything else just faded away.

This was not one of those times.

“I’m not sure there’s a way out of this.” I wouldn’t have been able to admit that to anyone but Chase, the same way he wouldn’t have wanted Devon to know that this year had been his first real Thanksgiving. “I can stall Shay, but eventually, unless I think of something else …”

The rest of that sentence, the very idea of sending Lucas back to Shay, was unthinkable.

What kind of person could do something like that?

What kind of alpha would I be if I refused and my pack got hurt as a result?

“You do what you have to do,” Chase said in a way that told me he’d crossed lines and seen the point of no return firsthand himself. “You can’t save everyone, Bryn. You do what you can, when you can. You try. But sometimes, at the end of the day, you just have to take care of yourself.”

I couldn’t help giving Chase an incredulous look. “Who said anything about taking care of myself?”

I was worried about Maddy, about Lucas, about the precedent I might set if I stepped on the wrong side of certain political lines. I was worried about the pack, about being the kind of alpha that Callum was, and about not being that kind of alpha. The last thing on my mind was me.