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“I think it worked,” he informs Petra with a weak smile.

Petra’s responding smile is equally anemic. “That’s good. I have bad news.”

Sascha swallows hard, trying not to immediately fear the worst. “What’s up?”

“Celeste is here. And something’s got her real, real heated.”

“Fuck. Well, I don’t need to go to the pack house, I can just?—”

“You misunderstand me,” Petra interrupts. “She’shere.”

“In the clinic?!”

“Yeah. Waiting for you to wake up. Your dad is on his way to… address it. She wants me to heal one of her enforcers, but I said I wouldn’t so much as touch a member of another pack without my alpha’s word.” Petra bites her lip. “There’s another problem. The enforcer Celeste wants me to heal is one of her werecreatures.”

Spine going ramrod straight, Sascha thinks immediately of Beryl. “Not the were-tiger, right?”

Petra shrugs. “I don’t know what their animal affinity is. Just that Celeste is claiming this enforcer was maimed by that… by Avery.”

If Beryl is here in rough condition, that means Avery won. Right?

Inhaling deeply, Sascha goes to get dressed. Petra gives him privacy, which she doesn’t always, but he appreciates her trusting his ability to stand and put on pants without help.

“What should I prepare myself for?” he asks when he leaves the medical room.

Petra shrugs. “I really don’t know, but we aren’t going down until your dad gets here.”

For once, Sascha has no desire to argue. “Are you sure I can’t just jump out the window and escape this confrontation entirely?”

That wins him a single short laugh before Petra shakes her head. “Unfortunately not. I wouldn’t want to risk you havingan episode on impact after such a risky procedure, but also, you wouldn’t make it ten paces without either Celeste’s enforcers or ours noticing you. We have to handle this the mature way.”

“Damn.”

They aren’t left waiting very long. When he arrives, Samuel’s barked orders resonate from outside, and Sascha hears the front door slam when his father enters the clinic to engage Celeste. Both Petra and Sascha sigh, then make their way down the stairs, Petra insisting on going first.

“—the disrespect of you showing up on my territory making demands of me and my son, who is ill?—”

Sascha grimaces. His father always talks about him like he’s helpless. He’d open the door to protest, but Petra waves him back, holding a finger to her lips so they can listen to Celeste’s reply.

“I demand information, Samuel. The alpha werecreature maimed my enforcer, and I’m seeking accountability.”

“Seek it from him, then. I won’t argue.”

“That’s my intention once I know his whereabouts. I’m certain thatyour son”—her tone is dangerously sarcastic—“will be able to give me what I need.”

“Over my dead fucking body,” Sascha hisses through gritted teeth.

It’s the wrong move, and he knows it even before Petra shoots him an annoyed look. The shifters in the waiting room go still, having heard Sascha’s voice, giving Petra no choice but to open the door to let them out. Even though Sascha couldn’t be safer with his father in the room, Petra keeps him behind her.

“Alexander,” Samuel says tightly. “How are you feeling?”

Just as tense, Sascha responds, “Better. I heard I was needed.”

Celeste spreads her stance so she looks larger than Samuel, but the attempted wave of her alpha magic is nothingcompared to Sascha’s dad, standing calmly with his hands clasped in front of him. She takes Beryl by the shoulder and pushes them forward, the rough gesture in no way resembling genuine care for Beryl’s injuries. When Sascha squints and tilts his head, the splotches of blood on Beryl’s clothes don’t even look that bad. Celeste’s rabid indignation suggested much worse.

“The werecreature you’ve been fraternizing with did this to my enforcer.”

Without caring to consider his words, Sascha replies, “Your enforcer has been tormenting Avery, so I’m not surprised he fought back. Did you expect him to just, like, take it?”