Page 37

“Because those colors don’t belong to anyone in our pack.”

“They’re outsiders. Have to be.” The words slip out before I fully realize I’m speaking. I glance between the others. “You all thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Dexter,” Sam mutters.

I nod once. “He’s the only one ballsy enough. And stupid enough.”

“That’s a stretch, kid,” Raul says. “Dex knows he ain’t got the numbers. He’s not that dumb.”

“Maybe. But Mercer’s not far. And desperation makes people reckless.”

Raul shakes his head.

“Doesn’t make sense. Why go to New York? Why target Stacy and Erica?”

Sam rubs the back of his neck. “Doesn’t explain much. But nobody outside this valley knows you’re a witch.”

“Make no mistake, we were targeted. They didn’t pick a fight—they pickedus.Lucky for them they didn’t know who they were messing with,” Erica says, voice sharp as ice.

I glance at Stacy. She’s shaking. Barely, but I see it—because I’m always watching her. Always ready to catch her before she falls. I always am when it comes to her.

“Come inside,” I say gently, moving to her.

My hand finds her wrist, and that’s when I feel it—her pulse is hammering. Fast. Wild. She’s barely holding it together. She gives a small nod, pressing her lips tight. I open the door andlead her in. The others stay outside. The door clicks shut, and silence blankets us like snow.

I don’t speak, only hold her wrist, and feel the tremble in her bones. Her eyes glaze over, unfocused. She’s here in body—but her mind is still in that parking lot, trapped under headlights and claws. I run my thumb across her wrist, just once.

“You don’t need to talk,” I say softly. “You don’t even need to think right now. What you need is rest.”

Her gaze lifts to mine, and I see gratitude—but it’s buried under exhaustion.

“You, my dear red,” I murmur, trying to coax a smile, “need to lie down before your knees give out.” Her lips twitch, just barely, but it’s something.

“Thank you,” she murmurs.

“Don’t mention it.” I lean in and press a gentle kiss to her mouth, brushing her wrist with my thumb again. “You’re safe here. I swear it. No one’s going to lay a hand on you.”

She doesn’t say a word—and for once, the silence doesn’t feel like retreat. It feels like surrender. Like trust.

She turns and climbs the stairs without another word. I watch her go, that mess of red curls bouncing with each slow step, and my heart aches. This isn’t the firecracker I know. This isn’t the girl who laughs like thunder and fights like lightning. This is a version of her the world tried to break. And I hate it. I step back outside, closing the door behind me, and rejoin the others.

“She’s in shock,” I say, voice low.

“She should be,” Erica snaps, crossing her arms tighter. “I’m still trying to process it myself. But Stacy… “I didn’t see that coming. She ran one of them down like it was nothing. That’s not the Stacy I know.”

I glance at the Jeep again, at the damage. At the proof of how far Stacy went to survive. Maybe fear didn’t paralyze her. Maybe it turned her into something fierce. Something unstoppable.

It probably helps that she’s seen our kind before. That’s the only thing I can think of that kept her from bolting the second she laid eyes on the wolves. I chew on that thought for a second, then glance around, feeling the weight of everyone's eyes as they wait for my take.

“So,” I say, trying to sound more certain than I feel, “where do we go from here, people?”

Raul steps forward, the steady thud of his boots echoing like a countdown. He’s got that look—the one that says I’m about to hear something I won’t like.

“Here’s where we go, Ray,” he says, his voice calm, but firm. “That attempt on Erica and Stacy shook you. I get it. There’s nothing we can do about it right now.”

I cross my arms and shift my weight, resisting the urge to punch something. He’s not wrong—but that doesn’t make it easier.

“I will send scouts to Mercer. Keep an eye on things for a couple days,” Raul continues. “Dexter’s pack is the only other one operating in the tristate area.”