Dawn ushered them all into an office. “The isolation of a loner lifestyle is hard for any shifter. Here, they’re around people who can understand them and who’ve had similar experiences to them. They get mighty comfortable and want to stay. Shifters in packs, prides, flocks, or whatever it may be all lean and rely on each other. That’s part of what makes it hard for loners to adjust to being on their own. I allow some to stay permanently, but in exchange they have to work for me—whether it’s to cook, clean, wash clothes, or something else.”

Dante and Ryan leaned against the wall while Taryn, Jaime, and Madisyn sat on an old, faded leather couch. Makenna perched herself on the edge of the desk that Dawn then sat behind.

“You do good work here,” said Taryn. “I have to admit, loners have such a bad rep that it never occurred to me how hard it must be for them.”

Dawn gave an understanding smile. “It’s easy to forget that they’re not all bad. Most just need help. I do my best to provide that. But I can’t help everyone.”

“Must be hard for you.” Dante folded his arms. “It has to cost a lot of money and energy to run this place. This is a nonprofit organization, right?”

“Yes. I have sponsors, grants, and private donations. The shifter council only gives a minimal amount of funding, but everything makes a difference. Some people—shifter and human alike—are kind enough to donate blankets, supplies, and food. But some, like Remy, just present us with problems.”

Taryn leaned forward. “Tell us about Remy. When did all this trouble with him start?”

Dawn’s expression turned somber. “He first came here four months ago. We were scrubbing off some graffiti outside when he came up to us, all charm and smiles. But it’s like Makenna says, his eyes are cold. He said he admired what I did but that he’d bet it was hard to run the shelter with no protection. He offered for me to join his pack—said Madisyn, Makenna, and any other volunteers would also have a place, if they wanted it. I declined, and he didn’t like it, but he told me to take some time to think about it.

“He came again the following month, made the same speech. Again, I told him no. That didn’t faze him. He was back within three weeks. At the time, things weren’t great. A human who owns several local businesses had begun a petition to get rid of the shelter; said he’s losing business and employees because a lot of humans don’t like being close to a shelter for loners. He got other business owners, humans, and the local schools to sign it.”

“Bigots,” Jaime bit out.

“Yes,” agreed Dawn. “Remy said he’d heard about the petition; said he could provide me with the protection I need from this sort of thing, if only I’d join his pack. He’s right. If this was officially classified as shifter territory, the humans would have no say. And they wouldn’t dare go up against me. But I think Makenna’s right.”

As Jaime shot a questioning look her way, Makenna explained as she swung her legs—legs that Ryan wanted hooked over his shoulders as he pounded in and out of her—“If you ask me, Remy was behind the petition. He wanted Dawn trapped in a corner so he could be her savior and, in desperation, we’d all fall in line. He somehow got the humans riled up; he may have even given them the idea of starting the petition.”

Dante nodded slowly. “I take it the petition came to nothing.”

Dawn waved a hand. “The human court dismissed it. I think it likes the idea that shelters help keep loners off the streets, since they often sleep in their animal form because they feel less vulnerable that way. Humans don’t want us roaming free like wild animals. And, you know, not all humans hate us. In fact, the majority don’t. But those that do hate us . . . well, they can make a lot of noise.” Dawn sighed. “Anyway, we hadn’t seen Remy again until today.”

Dante scraped his hand over his jaw. “I have to say, it’s damn odd that the guy wants to expand his territory in this direction. No offense, but this isn’t the kind of area that Alphas like to claim. It’s rough.”

“That’s why this makes no sense to us,” said Madisyn.

Taryn tapped her fingers on the arm of the sofa. “I’m surprised he hasn’t just tried to take the territory. You’re loners; you can’t fight him.”

“The land the shelter sits on belongs to me,” said Dawn. “It was granted to my mother by the council and she passed it on to me, which makes it my territory. No one can take it without my permission.”

“That’s probably why he went running to the council.” Makenna held out the letter to Dawn. “He presented me with this.”

Dawn took the paper from her hand and read it carefully. “Mediation. Says here that if we can’t solve this ourselves through mediation, the matter will then go before the council after eight weeks.”

“I thought the council typically gave people twelve weeks to sort out their shit,” said Madisyn.

“Only in cases where the parties want war,” Dante told her. “This situation is different.”

“Going before the council could be bad,” began Madisyn, “since it wants peace above all else. Right now, the humans who signed the petition are probably all stirred up because it got them nowhere. The council could see Remy taking over as a way to keep things cool here.”

“Remy seems too eager to get ahold of this place to wait for the council’s decision,” said Makenna. “I think he’ll try to put Dawn in a position where she feels she needs him.”