Chapter 27

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

W ith Moya and Fell talking quietly at the table, Patrin settled into his chair, sipped his coffee, and soaked up the warmth of the coffee shop. Behind the counter, Talitha and Renee were discussing various kinds of sleds with a couple of humans waiting for their drinks.

Quiet Celtic music came through the speakers. Hanging foliage plants and small corner bushes provided a reminder of summer in contrast to the snow-covered world outside. Moya had told him they'd been trying for the feel of a cozy wolf den.

Yesterday, a blizzard had dumped a scat-load of snow on the area…on dark of the moon, no less. Even hellhounds stayed home in this kind of weather.

This morning, the coffee shop bustled with people seeking contact. And caffeine, one of nature's best gifts.

Biting laughter drew his attention to a nearby table where Sarah was making fun of the bruise on Gretchen's fair-skinned face. They certainly didn't look alike, one tall and blonde, the other short and curvy.

Neither could compare to Moya.

Smiling, Patrin rested his arm on the back of her chair so he could play with the little wolf's hair. Damned if it wasn't difficult not to touch her. Everything inside him wanted to stay close enough to breathe her in.

And when they were apart, his chest felt as if he had a hole in it.

As if she could hear him, Moya leaned closer and rubbed her cheek on his biceps. "Okay, I sent out your request. Jens, Riona, and Lucius agreed to check on our senior pack members who live on the north half of town."

"No problem with them getting off work?"

"With the snow everywhere, neither the diner nor the ranch store will be busy today." The way her pretty lips tilted up couldn't be ignored.

He indulged himself with a quick kiss. "And the south?"

"The construction crew has the day off. Jalen and Alana will go. And even though he's a cat, Jarlath wanted to go with his mates."

All three were sturdy shifters and could handle anything the snowbound seniors might need. "Perfect. What did you plan for the three of us?" Patrin asked.

Fell answered, "The ones farther out of town."

"We're visiting two seniors down Argonaut to the south. They're just too stubborn to come in for storms." Moya half-grinned. "I'll probably be just like that when I'm nearing a hundred."

Patrin exchanged smiles with his brother. "Yeah, you will be." The vision of Moya at a hundred, tiny and wizened, filled his heart with tenderness and love.

"You're not supposed to agree, rude alpha." She jabbed an elbow into his thankfully healed-up side, making him grin. " Anyway… In case they didn't stock up, we'll take food and a couple of cans of gasoline. We can cut up and bring in firewood. Clear snow if needed. Ethel will need to reach her hen house."

Patrin grinned. "Sounds like fun." And fucking rewarding. Caring for the pack— their pack—satisfied something deep inside him. "How long will it take?"

"A while, I'm afraid. Although Argonaut's been plowed, they're on private roads and drives." Moya bit her lip as she calculated. "If we leave soon, we should get to the first place around ten, the second around noon, and be headed back to town around one-thirty."

"And be back around two-thirty? Sounds great. Leaves us time to join the older cubs on the sledding hill." Anticipation rose inside Patrin. Cubs shrieking with laughter and excitement—could anything be more fun? "I promised Mateo and Alvaro we'd be there."

A corner of Fell's mouth tipped upward, showing he was looking forward to the sledding day. They both missed being with young shifters.

Even better, the Rainier Territory younglings hadn't been tormented or groomed to be soldiers. They laughed freely and often—as cublings should.

With the bullying stopped, the wolfpack pups were happier too.

He picked up Moya's hand and kissed it. Life was good—and she made it better.

Smiling back, she ran her hand through his hair.

"Ugh, how nauseating. I'm not going to visit the sledding street if those smelly mongrels are there." Sarah rose. Ignoring Gretchen's hissed "Sarah, that's the alpha ," she stalked out of the coffee shop.

Gretchen followed.

A growl sounded in the room, and Patrin realized it came from Terence, one of the wolves sitting with Ramón, Zorion, and a few others from their construction crew. The young wolf looked furious.

Rather than angry, Zorion was grinning. He clutched Ramón's arm and said in a high falsetto, "Mongrels? Ewww , I can't stand stinky, howling mongrels."

"Bro, I hate to share this with you but"—Ramón patted Zorion's hand—"if our sister is a mongrel, what does that make us?"

Zorion's eyes widened. " Nooo ." He sniffed his armpits and wailed, "I, too, am a stinky mongrel. Just let me die." He pressed the back of his hand to his forehead and swooned.

The customers in the coffee shop all roared with laughter, even young Terence. The humans had no clue as to the underlying meaning of the banter—but were laughing too.

"Fuck." Fell actually grinned as he eyed Zorion and Ramón. "You grew up with those two?"

"Uh-huh. You should pity me."

"No wonder you can deal with just about anything," Patrin said and set her to giggling.

He could listen to her laugh all day long.

As he finished off his coffee, his phone dinged. The display showed it was his boss at the Bullwhacker. "Hey, Nik, what's up?"

"I could use your help in the back room today. A delivery came in before the snowstorm. The drivers were in a hurry and piled everything just inside the door. With my back acting up, I can't get the boxes moved."

Ah, the ugly part of being human. Daonain not only lived longer, but usually stayed healthier until the final year's rapid deterioration. Patrin glanced at Moya and Fell, who would have heard Nik's loud voice.

Fell shrugged. "We can check on the seniors without you. Go help him."

Moya nodded her agreement.

Okay then. "Sure, Nik. I'll be over in a little while." Extra money wouldn't hurt, even if he, Fell, and the other shifter-soldiers had a decent cushion from raiding Scythe accounts.

As he pocketed his phone, a frisson of worry ran up his spine. Forests and mountains after a fresh snowfall could be risky. Two people seemed inadequate.

He eyed Fell. "Considering the amount of work Moya has planned, you should take someone to replace me."

Before Fell could answer, Ramón called, "Yo, sis. We gave the crew the day off. Zorion and I can go with you."

Patrin nodded. "That'll work. I want you safe."

"You, Top Dog, are as bad as my brothers." She thumped her head on his shoulder in pretend annoyance…and he could hear the love in her voice.

"Thanks for stopping, guys." In the back seat, Moya leaned over to give Fell a quick kiss, jumped out of Ramon's big SUV and headed for the nearest bush.

Climbing out to stretch his legs as he waited, Fell could still feel the light, soft press of her lips on his. She loved him—and had no trouble showing it.

Would he ever accept the glory of that?

Smiling, he looked around. The green and black branches of the surrounding forest had bowed beneath the new snow. Pristine white covered the steep slopes of the mountains on each side of the valley they were driving through, and the air was so crisp and clear, it almost snapped.

This territory was fucking beautiful.

"Hey, Fell." Ramón got out and leaned against the SUV. "Be warned. Our sister has a bladder the size of a pin cushion."

"Or smaller." Zorion joined them. "We shouldn't have let her drink any of the coffee we brought."

Fell huffed a laugh. Moya's littermates probably drove her crazy. Living with Patrin, he knew the feeling. "If we need to stop every five minutes, then that's what we'll do." His tone was light, but he meant every word. Having her along was worth any inconvenience.

"I…see." Laughter gone, Ramón narrowed his eyes. "As long as we have you here, what exactly are your intentions toward our littermate?"

Beside Ramón, Zorion had an unreadable expression.

Interesting. The Moreno brothers sounded like Fell and Patrin had when Darcy was falling in love. Now he knew how annoyed Gawain and Owen must have felt.

It was good the little wolf had littermates to guard her.

"Our intentions are…" Anxiety traced a cold path up his spine. "We went to a blademage."

Zorion drew in an audible breath. "For lifemating bracelets?"

Fell nodded, unable to speak. All their hopes were bound up in those thin bands that held the very essence of the Mother.

What if Moya says no?

What if her brothers say no?

Fell tensed, preparing for a battle he couldn't win.

"Well…" After a second of looking as if he'd been clubbed in the head, Ramón straightened. "Okay then."

Fell stared at him. What?

"Yeah." Zorion's mouth curved into a wide smile. "Welcome to the family."

And now, Fell felt as if he was the one who'd been clubbed.

Standing near the sledding hill, Gretchen watched the younglings climb on bright-colored sleds and tubes and fly down the snowy slope, screaming and laughing.

Since the closed off street was just outside the parking lot on the other side of the square, she'd been able to hear all the shrieking and laughter. How could she resist taking a look for herself?

She wasn't the only one. It seemed as if a lot of the town shifters were here.

The Cosantir had just arrived with Sky and Talam, the two cubs he and his mates had taken in. His lifemates .

Her mood soured. At one time, she'd taken it for granted she would be the lifemate of one of the Gods-called. Mother had said it was the destiny of her daughters.

But none of the Cosantirs, cahirs, or even the healers had pursued Gretchen.

She was beautiful and behaved just as her mother ordered, yet nothing had worked. Even here, in Gretchen's own town, when André, Niall, and Madoc arrived, they'd chosen Heather.

Not me. Why didn't they choose me?

Thankfully, Heather hadn't come to the sledding hill. There was no fondness between them.

No, be honest—she hates me.

Gretchen shook her head. She'd never cared before what anyone thought of her. Especially other females. They were just…competition.

But more and more, she noticed how no one…liked her.

She watched Eileen arrive and get cheerfully greeted and hugged. And then Noreen, who ran the wilderness tour store, got the same kind of welcome. They were all chatting together near the big bonfire.

No one even spoke to Gretchen.

Turning her back on the adults, she watched the cubs sled down the hill. An aching tightness closed around her ribs.

Years ago, she'd been the cub laughing in joy at new-fallen snow. Squished in a laundry basket, she flown down the hill behind their house, screaming at the thrill. The cold wind had stung her face and blown her hair around, and at the bottom of the slope, she'd rolled out of the basket, giggling her head off. She'd been free and happy and alive.

But Sarah had seen. Sarah had told their mother.

Remembering what came after…Gretch shivered, not from the cold but from a place deep in her bones. " My girls are the prettiest of all the female cubs. They don't get dirty or wet or act like…like disgusting males ." The white of the snow had turned to blackest darkness—as the basement root cellar door closed. Sobbing, Gretchen had fallen onto the cold concrete, begging to get out. But the root cellar was fully insulated and at the back of the house, so no one could hear her screams and pleas. Or her whimpering as the hours passed.

A whooping laugh snapped her back into the present, and she shuddered. Arms around her waist, she headed back to the B he'd already tried once. But her sister was helping?

"You set Patrin and Fell up to die? Why ?"

Sarah face twisted into a malicious expression. "I offered the alpha and beta my favor at the Gathering, and they turned me down. Me ."

Her words were so familiar. Gretchen had felt that way, said such things when she'd been turned down. After all, Mother said, over and over, they were entitled to anything they wanted. Because they were special. Beautiful.

Is a person beautiful or special when she helps in a murder?

This…this isn't right.

Gretchen stood for a moment. What could she do? Turning, she almost ran out of the B&B. On the porch, she pulled out her phone and…

I don't have anyone's numbers.

What could she do?

Looking around frantically, she saw the Cosantir strolling toward the Shamrock Restaurant.

"André!"

By Herne's hide and hooves, this day sucks.

In the back of the SUV beside Moya, Fell stared out at the surrounding forest until his eyes burned. His shoulders were taut with anticipation as he held the rifle across his lap. Streaming through the open window, the air chilled his fingers on the cold metal.

The others in the vehicle were silent.

At least they'd had a warning about the potential ambush.

They'd been leaving Ethel's house when the Cosantir called to say Brett and Caleb planned to attack—and, once again, from a distance.

The cowardly spawn of cockroaches. No Daonain worthy of the name would shoot at another shifter. Even ferals were killed face to face.

But apparently, an ambush it was.

There were several options, even staying with Ethel for another day. But today, they knew approximately where Brett and Caleb would be. Personally, Fell would rather deal with them now rather than have the boggarts attack when no one was ready.

Supposedly, the targets were him and Patrin. What if the pond scum went after Moya? What if she was alone then? Fell growled under his breath at the thought. Yes, they needed to eliminate the mongrels now.

Fell had told André not to send anyone. Why risk Brett and Caleb shooting at someone else? Despite being furious, the Cosantir had eventually agreed to let them handle this without putting others at risk.

Up ahead, the light brightened as the road left the forest for an open valley. "Stop."

He wished the little wolf had agreed to remain at Ethel's.

So fucking stubborn.

Ramón braked the SUV to a halt. "See something?"

"No." Fell's voice came out a harsh rasp. "But out there is where I'd set up an ambush."

They were about halfway back to town. On the left rose a steep treeless mountainside, scattered rock outcroppings breaking the expanse of white. On the right was probably a creek bed since there were clusters of firs alongside the road.

"You think they'll set up behind one of the trees?" Zorion asked. "Or in the rocks?"

Ramón narrowed his eyes at the fir trees. "The rocks."

"Bro, neither Brett nor Caleb can shoot worth shit. It's a joke in the pack." Zorion waved at the fir trees. "With poor aim, they'll want to be close."

"You'd think, but Brett's a chicken-livered soul." Ramón tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. "He'd worry about not being able to shoot us all before one of us reaches him."

"Good point," Moya said. "Patrin and Fell terrify him."

Zorion made a disparaging sound in his throat. "So to stay safe, they'll shoot a whole lot of bullets from a long way off. Yeah, bet you're right."

Fell glanced at the two in front with respect. Ramón had almost as good a talent at reading people as Moya did. Zorion looked as steady as an old oak tree.

He studied the open area and the trees. No sign of anyone in the vast whiteness. If it'd been him and he intended to use the mountainside, he'd flatten out behind one of the stone outcroppings—and not be visible until he took a shot. "No help for it. Go on."

As the SUV moved forward, Fell took Moya's mittened hand and felt the fine tremble of her fingers.

She squeezed his hand and—like a trooper—continued to scan her half of the landscape.

Ramón kept the car at a speed slow enough they could dive out if needed. "You know what? They won't expect return fire. This might be fun."

Actually, Fell almost agreed…if Moya hadn't been there. Risking her…not acceptable.

From the tightness of Ramón's jaw, he knew fun wasn't the right word. The chances were high one or all of them would die. But much like Patrin, the male made jokes before battle to dispel tension and keep muscles loose enough to move.

Good male.

And he had a point. Fell had a rifle.

Shifters rarely owned weapons. However, Ethel had grown old enough she couldn't chase after the predators eating her chickens as most shifters would. When André warned them of the ambush, she had this old Winchester 1873 to loan them.

The SUV traveled on.

They were exposed on the left now.

The hair rose on the nape of Fell's neck. They were being watched.

Something struck the side of the car even as the crack of a rifle sounded.

"Out!" Fell yelled. Aiming at a puff of smoke upslope, he snapped off a shot to force the shooter to duck. To give the Morenos time to escape.

With her brothers, Moya bailed out and sprinted for the trees.

Lunging across the back seat, Fell followed out the same door.

The shooting started again. Crack, crack. Out in the open, he could only run. He zigzagged one way, another. Almost there. Crack, crack, crack.

His right leg buckled, and he staggered and dropped to one knee. His thigh burned with pain.

"Fell!" Moya dashed back out from the trees.

No. She mustn't. "Stay under cover."

Ramón was right behind her. They grabbed him and ran for cover, dodging behind two giant fir trees.

A bullet thunked into the tree, spraying bark everywhere.

By the God, I'm still alive. That was unexpected. Because of Moya. And Ramón.

Half in shock, he rolled onto his belly and checked the others. All safe and hunkered down behind the trees.

Despite being shot, the pain, the run, he still held the rifle—that'd been a painful, hard-won lesson of the Scythe. Never drop your weapon, no matter what.

Working the action, he ejected the used round and chambered a fresh cartridge. Ready.

"Fell." Zorion's gaze was on the mountain. "They ran to the rocks on the right."

Gritting his teeth against the searing pain, Fell went up onto a knee, easing out to look toward the right. More bullets peppered the trees.

And there… Grayish-white smoke, almost invisible against the snow, drifted upward over a stand of rocks.

Fell glanced at Zorion and nodded. Well-played, Moreno brothers. Ramón had come for him while Zorion had served as spotter. "Got them."

Easing out just far enough, Fell shot, worked the lever, shot. Over and over. His bullets sparked against the exposed rock formation.

"I don't see them," Moya said in a low voice. "How can you hit them?"

"Don't have to," Fell answered and started reloading the rifle.

Ramón's laugh held a dark satisfaction. "He's peppering them with rock splinters. They're not brave enough to hold up under that kind of barrage."

No, they weren't.

Far up the steep mountainside, two figures darted out from behind the outcropping. Running as hard as they could, Brett and Caleb moved horizontally across the long expanse of white.

Zorion had a vicious grin as he commented, "No cover. Think you can hit them, Fell?"

"Oh yeah." Fell straightened, lifting the rifle to his shoulder.

Before he could fire, the air filled with a cracking sound. One different from the ear-splitting noise of rifles—the whoomph made every cell in his body tense.

A few times in their lives, he and Patrin had heard the sound of a snowpack collapsing, marking the start of an avalanche.

"Oh fuck." There was a heavy load of fresh snow on the mountain. The two big males were running on top of it, impacting it hard with each step.

"Herne help them, they triggered an avalanche," Zorion whispered.

Using the tree for balance, Fell could only stare at the surreal picture. Everything was white—and was moving. With an ear-splitting rumble, the mountainside poured downward—and swallowed the two dark figures like quicksand.

With a choked sound, Moya wrapped her arms around him and buried her head against his shoulder.

Holding her, knowing she was safe, his own world felt as if it steadied.

Still hugging him, she called, "Ramón, get the first aid kit, please."

"Will do." Footfalls crunched in the snow.

"Hey, Ramón." Zorion came from near the SUV. "Do you think your SUV will even start again?"

"Bro, it better start. It's a long way back."

Fell considered the pain in his thigh. The miles back to town. About the same distance to Ethel's.

Oh. Fuck.

Patrin had always loved the day after a blizzard when the entire world turned white. When snow covered tree branches and roofs. When every sound seemed clearer.

Like the yelling of the cubs on the sledding hill past the west parking lot.

Reaching the top of Paydirt Avenue, he paused to appreciate how the townsfolk had set up the area for their younglings. A bonfire blazed in an empty lot next to the sawhorses blocking the street. A couple of older men fed the fire from a tall stack of firewood.

In the hottest flames, three salamanders spiraled upward in an exuberant dance. He grinned. A huge fire outside in freezing weather—of course, the elementals were pleased.

A few cubs and adults sat on wooden benches and warmed their hands. A big metal kettle near the coals was probably heating water for hot chocolate.

Spotting a table with food, Patrin made an immediate detour and snagged a cookie covered in red frosting. It was gone in three bites. So damn tasty. Could life get any better?

And then he found out it could.

"Patrin, you came!" Mateo halted a few feet away, obviously striving to look grown-up. Probably influenced by human idiocy of looking cool. "It's, ah, good to see you."

Alvaro, though, ran right up and thumped into Patrin.

Grinning, Patrin gave him a hearty hug.

When he stepped away, Patrin moved closer to Mateo and kept his voice low. "Shifters, especially wolves, enjoy affection. We're not human and don't want to be. So…want a hug?" He opened his arms.

Mateo lunged forward, wrapped his arms tightly around Patrin's waist—and clung.

Oh yeah, the cub had wanted a cuddle. Patrin gave the youngling a good hug.

The world was changing, and the Daonain were no longer isolated. Cubs were attending human schools to learn to fit in and master technology. But learning the human ways didn't mean shifters had to embrace them.

"So, lads, let's see you fly down a hill. Have you got sleds?" Patrin eyed the two…things…the cubs had abandoned nearby.

The ski shop's owner, Tyrone, was delighted when the town wanted to rent sledding equipment for the day and had apparently provided a huge variety.

"Mine's a snow tube." Mateo picked up the tow line of an inflatable PVC tube the size and shape of a tractor tire. Handles were embedded in the sides.

"I got a sled." Alvaro grabbed the pull rope for a bright yellow, plastic sled reminiscent of an old-fashioned wooden toboggan.

He followed them to the top and studied the various runs. The middle tracks went straight down. But on each outside edge, the compacted snow showed the course had twists and turns.

Several cubs, from ten years old to mid-teens, waited their turn.

"Patrin, good to see you here," Niall called. On one side, the cahir and his mate Heather were helping younglings as needed.

On the other side, Eileen worked with Noreen from the wilderness tour store. More adults, including a few humans, were scattered here and there. The cubs were adequately supervised.

With a frown, Patrin realized some of the cubs hadn't joined in but were clustered off to one side. Too nervous to try sledding?

"Our turn, brawd. Let's go!" Mateo jumped on his tube, Alvaro on his sled, and the two pushed off together, screaming their way down the slope.

To Patrin's surprise, Niall sat down on an unused toboggan and then frowned. "I think I need an extra rider. C'mere, you." He beckoned over one of the timid cubs and settled the lad between his long legs. "Give us a shove, Patrin."

Patrin pushed—and by the Gods, the cahir was heavy. "You need to get on a diet, Niall."

The cahir's hearty laughter broke out and turned to a whoop as they picked up speed. The cub with him was giggling in between shrill shrieks.

Laughing, Patrin joined Heather. "Your mate has a hefty dose of craziness."

"He does." She grinned, then tilted her head at another stray cub who looked longingly at a bright yellow tube. Her voice dropped to a murmur. "Go help, Alpha. She's one of yours."

He still hadn't met all the pups in his pack.

Whether this girl was his or not, he'd never refuse the plea in the youngling's blue eyes. He walked over to the tube and smiled at her. "Hey, lass. I haven't been on a sled since I was younger than you. Want to ride one down with me so I'm not alone?"

Her eyes widened. "Alph—um, me?" When he pointed his finger at her in confirmation, her face lit up. "Yes!"

Patrin pushed the tube to the edge of the downward slope and sat at the back, his boots hanging over the rim.

With no hesitation, she plopped down in front of him.

A burly, grizzled male bent over to give them a push and murmured, "Gotta say, us cats are happy with the new pack leadership. Welcome, Alpha."

Before Patrin could respond, the old guy shoved hard.

They went shooting down the slope. The little mite in front of him screamed happily as they shot past a couple of slower sleds. The tube was incredibly fast—and bounced with every divot in the snow.

Thank fuck there was a long flat area at the bottom that allowed them to stop before reaching the parking lot.

The cub jumped off, grinning so wide every tooth showed. "That was so cool! Thank you, al—um."

"Call me Patrin, and what's your name?"

"Grainne."

"Ah, a good Celtic name." He grabbed the pull rope and started the long haul up the slope, listening as she chattered away beside him, all shyness wiped out by adrenaline. At the top, he smiled at her, then pointed to Mateo and Alvaro. "You two—put her between you on a toboggan. With the weight of three, you'll be the fastest out there."

"Ooooh, we will!" Mateo grinned and grabbed her hand. "C'mon, Grainne, Alvaro. Let's fly!"

There, one shy pup launched.

Before he could find another, Jens walked over with Riona, an energetic wolf in her twenties. They both bowed their heads slightly. Jens kept his voice low. "Alpha, our three finished checking on our older pack members. We handed out food to a couple of them and shoveled sidewalks and drives."

"No problems?" Patrin asked, with a touch of guilt. He'd essentially ordered the pack members to work.

"None." Riona shook her head. "I'm so glad you sent us. Clarence didn't have nearly enough food. And Ruby would've been stuck inside. The snow had drifted halfway up her front door."

Jen's expression was rueful. "They were so damned grateful, and we should've been looking out for all of them, before this. They're pack and part of us."

Warmth filled Patrin's chest. They got it. "Yes. We're all needed if we're to be strong."

Their faces grew more serious as they took in his words, but…the light in their eyes didn't dim. "Yes, Alpha," Jens murmured, and they took themselves off.

Leaving space for Jalen and Alana, who were also waiting to give their report.

After they finished, Patrin was free—and feeling incredible. He'd missed leading, looking after everyone, protecting them all. There was nothing as fulfilling.

His pack was coming together, faster and better than he'd expected. They were good wolves.

And this town… He smiled at the humans and shifters who were watching to ensure the younglings had a safe, fun time.

This is a good town. A good territory.

Still smiling, he walked back to Heather. "Any more cubs who need a paw held?"

Moya shook her head as she crouched to help Fell remove his pants.

As Zorion had feared, after being shot full of holes, the SUV refused to start. Ramón had filled the air with impressively inventive swearing. They'd be running back to town.

But how could Fell run?

"Oh, your leg doesn't look good." At the sight of the blood, she felt her stomach clench. Regaining her feet, she rested her hand on his shoulder, just needing to…touch him. To feel the warmth of his skin, to know he was alive. Gods, she'd been scared for him.

The bullet had struck mid-thigh, along the side. Nothing essential, except he had no fat on his body, which meant the gouge went through muscle. It must hurt every time he put weight on that leg. "Why don't you stay here, and we'll send a?—"

"No, little wolf." His jaw turned so hard she could see the line of muscle. "Where you go, I go." He tossed his pants into the SUV. Pulling her against his powerful frame, he kissed her long and slow. "You scared the scat out of me when you left the trees and came back for me."

"Sounds fair. I had a heart attack when you got shot." And now her heart was so full of love and worry, it might burst all on its own. She rose on tiptoes to kiss him again. "I love you, you impossible wolf."

His eyes blazed, and his arms tightened around her to the point of pain.

"Yo, you two, trawsfur and let's move," Ramón called. "If we don't hurry, we'll be running in the dark."

Her brother had a point. "Aye. I wish we could call Patrin." Unfortunately, they were outside cell phone service area.

"Time to run." Fell eyed his leg and then trawsfurred. The sight of blood on his pale fur made her want to cry.

No. Focus, girl.

Moya stripped fast— oh, so cold! —and put her shirt and pants in the SUV.

After locking the doors, Ramón buried the keys behind the front wheel.

Moya shifted and joined Fell. He was gorgeous, all silvery wolf. Unable to help herself, she gave his muzzle a little lick.

With a rumbling, sexy whine, he nibbled her cheek ruff, then mouthed her muzzle.

"Please, no wolfy smooching in front of your brothers." Ramón pointed toward town. "Let's get moving."

Her brothers shifted and headed down the road.

She glanced up the mountain and shook her head. After this long, there was no chance of survival for Brett and Caleb. Perhaps they would learn and do better in their next life.

Turning, she joined Fell, and they followed her brothers.

Worry niggled inside her. Patrin was going to worry when they didn't show up on time. Fell wasn't limping—quite—but was being careful with his injured leg. She'd damned well make sure he didn't push so hard he'd make the injury worse.

Farther down the road, they could cut the distance by taking some trails. But it was still going to be a long run.

Sorry, Patrin. We're gonna be late.

The Colonel sat at the dining room table in the house Baton had chosen for this operation. Not a bad location. On Sunday, the two residents had been easily eliminated prior to the blizzard, and everyone had settled in to wait the storm out.

Finally, Monday came. He glanced at his watch. 15:45. The operation was starting right on time.

The snipers were getting their weapons loaded with tranquilizers, then would get set up on the ground and second floors.

His phone vibrated. The display showed it was the operative leading the diversion team. "Go."

"We're in place. As planned, the vehicles are behind the B&B near the riverside park and the diner on the south alley."

"Very good. Wait for my signal." Disconnecting, the Colonel considered again the downtown part of the multi-stage operation.

He'd originally planned to blow up the square itself. But, as far as he could tell, the abominations made up only about half of the Ailill Ridge population. Killing a large number of humans to acquire mutants would be frowned upon by the Committee.

A small amount of…breakage…was acceptable.

The next call came from Baton. "We're set up around the sledding area. I'll notify you if they start to leave early."

"Good. Remember, along with our three targets, I want only mothers and children." He could almost hear the question in her silence. And being an excellent leader, if he said so himself, he indulged her curiosity.

"Being heavy, the men would take too much time to load. And once here, we'll need to separate the mutants from the human women and children. No need to add more work by having to secure the men too."

"But…" There was a moment as she obviously thought about what he'd said. "Ohhh, only shapeshifters will attack the house. That's how you'll get the men."

Yes, Baton showed some potential. "Exactly." He disconnected.

Now, to wait for darkness.

At the hill, Patrin had sledded more with various timid cubs. Since Riona had stayed after her time checking the seniors, he recruited her to help with the shyer girls. Before First Shift, a cub wouldn't carry the scent of a shifter, and oftentimes today, neither of them knew if the younglings were human or not. It didn't matter.

He'd taken time to indulge in cookies and hot chocolate while talking with the adults, especially the mother wolves in his pack.

He had a fine pack.

The adults were starting to talk about ending the activities. Niall had herded pregnant Heather home a while back, leaving Eileen to keep an eye on her cubs along with Sky and Talam.

After hauling another sled—and an exhausted cub—uphill, he handed the youngling over to his mother and waved away her thanks.

If nothing else, the exercise had warmed him up again, and he unzipped his coat. Tipping his head back, he frowned at the darkening sky. Where were Moya and Fell? They should have been back by now.

They didn't answer their cell phones. Could they have had a breakdown? Slid off the road?

He checked his phone and frowned, seeing he had a text from the Cosantir. The noise here must have drowned out the notification sound. What did André need from him? He displayed the text. " Call me, please ."

All right. He started to hit the call icon—then a piercing shriek changed his mind. There was no way he'd be able to hear the soft-spoken Cosantir. He pocketed his phone.

Meantime, the cubs shouldn't be sledding in the dark. "Time to put the fire out," he called to the adults tending the bonfire.

"Yes sir," one of the humans said.

Patrin winced. He hadn't intended to sound like he was giving orders.

Seeing him wince, Kane, the wolf next to him, clapped him on the back. "Relax. You can't help being alpha any more than I can help being tall."

Patrin made a rueful face, got a laugh, and they both walked down the hill to begin the clean-up.

In the parking lot, several adults worked on deflating the snow tubes. Regaling each other with their exploits, younglings lined up with toboggans and sleds to get checked off a list before returning them to the shop.

Several mothers had shown up to collect their offspring.

Naturally, a half-dozen cubs were trying to get in one more run.

Patrin raised his voice. "The slope is closed. Equipment gets returned…now."

The miscreants jumped and trudged down to join the line.

Patrin nodded in satisfaction and pulled his cell out. Now to call André

Boom . The sound almost shattered his ears, and Patrin instinctively dove to the ground, then looked for cover.

Boom .

What the fuck. Had something exploded?

The blasts came from the square—and there was shouting. As flames flickered into existence, smoke rose into the gray sky.

Mother of All, my head! Gretchen groaned and realized she was on the ground. There were cold bricks beneath her hand. Bricks?

Oh, she was in the town square. Memories drifted into her mind as if through a heavy fog.

Sarah had planned the alpha's murder.

Gretchen told the Cosantir. He'd been so angry. His eyes had turned dark, almost black.

She'd fled. Had gone to the pack house, used the portal into the forest, and shifted to wolf. And just run.

Hating her sister. Hating her life. Hating herself.

When it started getting darker, she'd returned to town. André had been working in his gift shop. He said he hadn't heard back from Fell and the others, but they were alive, and the ambush had failed.

She'd forgotten a Cosantir could find anyone in the territory. Of course, he knew. From the darkness in his gaze and the lack of worry in his expression, she'd realized Brett and Caleb were no longer alive.

Gods.

And then…then…what happened then? And why does my head hurt so badly? Oh, he had wanted to speak to Sarah. She'd been walking with him across the square to the B&B.

Then those deafening booms.

Her ears were still ringing, she realized. Groaning, she rolled onto her side and saw André. Shaking his head, he was propped up on one arm. The Cosantir was all right, thank the Mother.

Oh, Gods, I hurt. She rubbed at her ears, at her head. Her fingers came away covered in blood. Blinking, she realized acrid smoke filled the air.

Nearby, something flickered with a bright light against the dimness. A fire? Coat hampering her efforts, she struggled to sit up. The square looked different, wrong.

Off to her right, the diner was burning.

She turned her head and winced at the stabbing pain. Espresso Books was fine, so was the bank, and the realty office. Her B&B was at the end…

Horror stabbed into her heart like an icy blade. " Noooo ." Part of the front had been blown out, leaving rubble strewn into the square. The roof sagged. Flames showed in the wide-open building.

No one was there. She had no guests, thank the Gods.

But…she did.

" Sarah. " She struggled to her feet. Stumbling, running, falling. Tripping over wreckage. She clambered up over the shattered porch. There was no longer a door, no wall. "Sarah!"

Smoke blinded her, burning her lungs, choking her. Flames snapped at her, scorched her face as she tried to get past the burning walls. In her ringing ears, she heard the building groan as it died. Felt the rush of air as the timbers above collapsed.

"Sarah!"

Something struck her shoulder, her head. The ceiling was falling. She raised her arms to protect her head.

"Sarah!" Everything went black.

Something had blown up in downtown? Patrin would've thought maybe an explosion in a restaurant kitchen, only the smoke came from two different places.

Along with the rest of the adults, Patrin ran across the parking lot toward the square.

Unlike everyone else, a man jogged away from the square. Clad all in black, he ran directly toward Patrin—as if to attack for fuck's sake.

Catching the stink of human and gunpowder, Patrin knew—he knew .

Scythe .

Dodging to the right, Patrin punched the human in the temple hard enough to feel bone break. Using every ounce of alpha command, he shouted at his fellow shifters, "It's the Scythe . Scatter and run."

After a stunned second, the Daonain fled, dodging through the parking lot, in and out of the vehicles, trying to reach the shelter of the buildings on each side.

Patrin sprinted to guard the cubs.

Something bit into his neck. His leg. Darts. Tranquilizers. Fuck. "Run!" he yelled at the pups.

But even as his thoughts slowed, as numbness crept up his limbs, younglings fell. Mateo, Alvaro, Sky. Trying to reach them, Riona, one of his wolves, went down.

Patrin's knees buckled.

Two black trucks entered the parking lot, and a wave of human monsters stepped out from among the cars.

No.