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They all listen to me, sulkily, but they do it.

I go out on the porch, unsure of what to do or think.

Knight joins me. “You’ve got to do that and get us into a car,” he says to me. “I’ll take care of Acker.”

“You couldn’t take care of Acker before,” I say to him.

“It’s different now,” he says.

“It isn’t,” I say to him.

“It is,” he says. “I bit—”

“But no one bit you,” I point out.

He growls at me.

I growl back.

We face off on the porch, and the air feels charged. Are we going to fight, really fight, him and me?

I won’t let that happen. I will use every bit of my alpha power over him to shut down the aggression between us.

He feels that through our bond, feels my resolve and he rears against it, pushing at it through the bond, pushinghard.

I willnotgive way.

Finally, he pulls back.

I sag into a chair on the porch, panting, exhausted, spiritually depleted. If he pushes again, I don’t know if I can hold.

He sits down, too, similarly winded. “Shit, Striker,” he breathes.

“We’re no good to each other if we’re working at odds,” I gasp.

“But we have to protect her,” he says.

“I know,” I say, sighing.

“Where’s the line?” he says. “How do we know when to let her have her way and when to stop her?”

“I don’t know,” I say. “But sometimes, even if you don’t agree with something, if you’re part of a group, you have to go along with the group.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “That’s—”

“I know,” I say. “I didn’t say always go along with the group. I saidsometimes.”

He considers.

“To keep the peace.”

“When it’s not important, maybe,” he says. “But this is important. We need to leave.”

“Yeah, maybe,” I say. “But we have nowhere to go.”

He sighs heavily.

We’re both quiet.