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Sam nods, voice hard. “We already spared them once. We give them another shot, they’ll take it as weakness. And that’s on us.”

Raul’s quiet for a beat, then turns to Gibbs. “Gather everyone at Joe’s. Two hours.”

“You’ve got to be kidding. A vote? You’re letting them decide what happens to traitors?” I ask, staring at him in disbelief.

“No,” Raul bites out. “Idowant our pack to have a say. You think war’s the hard part? It’s not. You let the animal out, and it does the job. The real battle comes after—when the blood’s dried and you’re left with the choices you made. The ones that never stop echoing.”

His words strike a place I keep buried—a place full of ghosts I never asked for. And he’s right. That’s what kills me. Every fight we’ve survived leaves a mark. Some nights, I see the faces. Some deserved what they got. Some… I’m not so sure.

But Mercer’s pack? Iwassure. Until now.

We’ll put it to the pack. Let them decide if mercy still has a place in us.

30

RAY

Joe’s Bar is packed, tension crackling through the air like static. It coats my tongue with the bitter sting of ash and adrenaline.

Every pack member is here—near, far, it doesn’t matter. Not one of them is sitting. They’re clustering in small groups, whispering and waiting. Sam leans next to me at the counter, arms crossed, scanning the room like he’s planning an assault. Raul paces in front of the bar, nervous energy coming off him in waves. His mouth’s calm, but his body’s loud.

“Fifty-nine,” Gibbs reports from the doorway. “That’s all of us.”

Raul stops his pacing, facing the assembled pack. The soft chatter continues.

“Quiet!” he says, too loud, but silence falls instantly. “You know why we’re here. Mercer’s pack is camped outside Dawson.”

A groan ripples through the room. Raul lets it pass before speaking again.

“We offered them trust. Gave them peace and they betrayed us,” Raul says. “They sacrificed one of their own just to make it look like Sammy was dead. In truth, they teamed up with humans who locked him in a goddamn cage. We took care of the humans, but the Mercers are still out there. So the question is—what do we do now?”

“Fight!” someone shouts before he even finishes.

“With all due respect,” Locksmith growls, stepping forward, “this isn’t peace—they’ve earned our hate.”

“They went after your family, Raul,” Kyle snaps, his voice raw. “How can you even hesitate?”

Raul lifts his chin. “This isn’t softness. It’s choice. So let’s make it official—war or peace?”

“WAR!” The word erupts like a thunderclap. Arms shoot into the air, voices layered with rage and righteousness.

Raul’s jaw tightens. He hates the answer—I can see it—but he nods. He asked. Now he has to follow through.

“Alright. Tonight, no warnings. We hit hard, hit fast, and we don’t leave loose ends. Midnight. When it’s done, come back here.”

The cheers swell so loud that they rattle the walls. Packmates slap each other’s backs. Some even hug. From the outside, it might look insane. Who celebrates a coming war? But I get it.

We’re not fighting strangers—we’re fighting those who once called us family. Who tricked us. Betrayed us. Hurt us—twice. This isn’t vengeance. It’s protection.

There’s no room for doubt. No forgiveness left to bleed.

31

STACY

“What’s going on out there?” Erica asks. Her voice cuts through the quiet of the kitchen, sharp with worry.

She doesn’t need to ask—we’re both standing by the window, trying to make sense of the chaos unfolding. Hearing her say it, though, makes it real.