Lucas took one look at my face, and he knew. I couldn’t smell fear, not the way the Weres could, but I knew what it looked like, etched into features that were trying desperately not to show it, and when I took a step forward, Lucas went as still as a corpse. I could see his pulse jumping in his throat, but he closed his eyes and stood there, waiting.

Just like that, I was back in the woods behind Callum’s house, my lips bleeding, my ribs cracked. It had taken everything I had not to fight Sora as she came at me again and again. I’d swallowed every instinct, and with each blow, I’d lost a tiny bit of myself, of the life I’d always thought that I’d lead.

I’d broken the rules, Callum had ordered me beaten, and I’d stood there, just like Lucas was standing now.

Pissed or not, betrayed or not, I wasn’t going to be the kind of alpha who inspired that kind of fear.

“Maybe we should sit down,” I said. On all sides of me, I felt my backup fighting their own internal battles, their wolves crying out for retribution, and their human halves seeing what I saw and thinking that there had to be a way, some way, for it to be different.

Sitting down at a table felt like fitting a noose around my own neck, but I forced myself to do it anyway and waited for the others to do the same. One by one, the Weres came to join me: Devon first and Lucas last, with Mitch, Maddy, and Lake spread out in between.

For a long time, none of us said anything. I didn’t press Lucas. I didn’t force him to hold my stare. I just waited, and finally, he spoke.

“You know,” he said.

“And you didn’t tell us,” I replied, keeping my voice soft and even and wondering how it was that three minutes after swearing I would be a different kind of alpha than Callum, I could hear the man who’d trained me in every single one of my words.

“Who did they send?” Lucas asked dully. “To tell you?”

“Hey there, boy-o,” Devon said, leaning forward slightly. “I think we’ll be the ones asking the questions here.”

Lucas glanced sideways and slumped lower into his seat. Maddy said his name softly, and after a moment, he nodded.

“Ask your questions,” he said, wiping the palms of his hands on denim jeans.

I didn’t have to be told twice.

“What are they?”

“Human.”

“What else are they?”

Lucas took a breath and then he shrugged. “I don’t know if there’s a word for it,” he said. “If there is, I’ve never heard it. They’re just humans who can … do things.”

“Things like what?” Lake asked, and I could tell it was taking everything she had not to make the question any more leading than that.

“All of them are different,” Lucas said slowly. “They each have an … ability. One of them gets inside your head. He can make you see things that aren’t there, make you feel them. They feed you silver, make you think it’s chocolate.”

I thought of my dreams: the throbbing in my temples, the tone in Archer’s voice—pleasant, but deadly underneath.

“There’s a woman, an old woman. She’s got a way with animals, a way of making them do things. She likes snakes, and if you’re a werewolf, she can force your Shift.”

I really, really did not like the sound of that—not that being mentally set on fire was a walk in the park.

“What else?” I asked. Since he hadn’t yet referenced someone with Caroline’s power, I knew he hadn’t told us everything, and I wanted to save my ace in the hole for after I’d squeezed everything out of him that I could myself.

“There’s another woman, her name is Bridget, and she does this … whistling thing. It makes you forget. It’s like one second you’re there and you’re fighting, and the next, you can’t fight. You just listen. Even if they’re cutting you open, even if you can feel it hurting, you can’t do anything but listen.”

I waited to see if Lucas would say anything else, trying not to fully digest the horror of what he’d already said.

“They told me that they had someone who’s really good at finding things when they go missing.” Lucas laughed, and it was a miserable, hair-raising sound. “I guess they were telling the truth.”

“You came here knowing they could track you?” I couldn’t help the exasperation in my voice. “And you didn’t think it was a good idea to give us any warning that someone might come after you? Even after we specifically asked you who that someone was, you didn’t think it might be pertinent to mention that they have about a thousand ways of killing people that normal humans don’t?”

You’re getting off track, I told myself. Yelling at him doesn’t get you answers. He’ll either shut down or expect you to beat them out of him.

That was what any other alpha would do—except for maybe Callum, who was all the more lethal for how seldom he resorted to using brute force.

Think, I told myself. What would Callum do?

My brain wasn’t forthcoming with answers, so I decided to focus on my pack’s own particular strengths. It was time to bring in the big guns.

“Lucas, would you like something to drink?” The change in tactic took the Were completely off guard. Unbeknownst to him, however, that was more of a by-product than the point.

“Drink?” Lucas repeated dumbly.

“Like a milkshake or a soda or something?”

Mitch caught my eyes from across the table, and it was clear that he knew exactly what I was doing.

Careful, Bryn, he warned. The other alphas don’t know about Keely. If you send this boy back and he ends up tipping Shay off, we could all be in for a world of hurt.

I knew as well as Mitch did that most alphas wouldn’t take kindly to the idea of a human who could loosen lips just by brushing up against someone or looking them in the eye.

She does it all the time, I responded, sending the words from my mind to Mitch’s. And nobody’s figured it out yet.

People—even the kind who turned into wolves on occasion—expected bartenders to be good listeners. Keely just lived up to that expectation—and then some.

“Maybe some lemonade?” Lucas asked tentatively, and I tried to digest that the source of all of this trouble was the type of person who, when asked if he wanted something to drink, requested lemonade.

In Shay’s pack, Lucas had never stood a chance.

“Keely?” I called. She’d done a good job making herself scarce, but Keely was a smart woman, and I doubted she’d gone far. She probably knew as much about werewolf politics as I did, and she’d been the human equivalent of truth serum all her life—the moment Chase had taken the little ones out, Keely had to have known that her services might come in handy.

Sure enough, a few seconds after I’d bellowed, Keely sauntered out from the kitchen and leaned across the bar. “You rang?”

“Can we get some lemonades?”

“Sure thing, kiddo.” Keely spun glasses out from underneath the counter like a pro, and Devon cleared his throat.

“Don’t be stingy with the cherries, Keel,” he called back to her.

Obligingly, Keely put a cherry in each of the glasses. I knew for a fact that she could carry four at a time without breaking a sweat, but she opted for carrying one in each hand, a strategy that would allow her to make several trips past Lucas and back to the bar.

Anything happens to her, and we’ll be having words, Bryn. Mitch eyed me across the table, his expression deceptively mild. Lake’s dad might have been a part of my pack, but Keely and the rest of the folks at the Wayfarer were Mitch’s to take care of, the same way the rest of Cedar Ridge was mine.

I did not want to consider the possibility of “having words” with Mitch any more than I wanted to think about something happening to Keely—which meant that I had to play this just right.

“Here ya go,” Keely said, bending over to set one of the drinks in front of Lucas, brushing his arm as she did.

“Now that you’re all beveraged up, mind telling me how many of these humans are after you?” I timed my question perfectly and managed to keep my voice casual and wry.