Page 11

“Thank you all for coming together so quickly,” Dorian says, barely managing to rub the exhaustion from his eyes.

He’s not the only one. Last night, Dorian and Kira’s babies took turns crying every thirty minutes.

On my bed, in the room across the hall, I’d stared at the ceiling, listening as Dorian and Kira took turns getting out of bed, tending to them.

Hearing Kira whisper to them, shush them, beg them to latch.

It reminded me of when Sarina was a baby. More than likely, I wouldn’t have fallen asleep anyway, not after the attack, but the constant crying was the nail in the coffin.

Beside me, Sarina is slumped in her chair, snoring lightly. Seems the babies kept her up, too.

This morning, after Kira put a cup of coffee in my hand, Dorian said he’d be calling an emergency council meeting to figure out what to do. Though I didn’t ask, he told me that Emin was okay, he’d just blacked out from the blow to his head, too much exertion.

“Maybe,” I’d said, eyes on the ground, “Sarina and I should just be on our way. I don’t want to draw any attention to your pack.”

Dorian had looked at me for a long time, then said, “ Our pack, Veva. Don’t forget that you’re Ambersky, too. If you want to be. And we protect our own. Which means I’d like to have a meeting to make sure we can come together and plan to do just that.”

This is that meeting. And, unfortunately, it includes both Argent men, whom I’d rather not see again. Kellen, Emin’s father, looks far older than the last time I saw him, more wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. There’s a sense of dejection to him that I can’t deny, feels somewhat good to see.

Emin—sitting in a soft gray, long-sleeve shirt and a pair of jeans—looks even more exhausted than I feel, with a slight bruise under one eye and a subtle cough that must be from inhaling so much smoke yesterday.

He must feel me looking, because he raises his gaze to mine and I quickly look away, fixing my gaze out the window, where I see a colorful bird perching on one of the sparse branches outside.

We’re in the pack hall, a place I’d only been occasionally as a teenager. Usually, to pick my mother up from an overnight jail stay when she’d had too much to drink. The people around the table look competent, and that, at least, puts me at ease.

“Emin,” Dorian says, “why don’t you recap your trip to the market for us?”

Emin clears his throat and sits forward, his eyes flicking to mine. It sends a shock through me, and I swallow, eyes trailing down over his chest and arms braced against the table. Mentally shaking myself, I force my gaze away.

“I arrived at the market around an hour after its start.” His voice has the same effect on me, rougher from the smoke, so much deeper than when we knew each other as teenagers.

I have a sudden sense of grief—the fact that I’ve missed these past ten years with him, didn’t get to watch him grow up, watch his body fill out, his facial hair thicken, all the tiny changes I didn’t get to be privy to.

Then I remind myself that was never going to happen. I remind myself of how it felt for him to turn me away that night, knowing I was pregnant.

Emin goes on, “I delivered the package for the first objective, but sensed something was…off. With the Grayhides I delivered it to. I tailed them through the market, until they came across Ms. Marone here.”

Dorian crosses his arms. “So, you didn’t seek out the Llewelyn contact immediately after delivering the package?”

I’m burning with curiosity—to ask about “the package.” Was it what I saw that Grayhide shifter holding? The thing that looked suspiciously head-like?

“No,” Emin admits, his gaze lowering to the table. “I followed my gut. Watched the exchange, then she,” he nods toward Sarina, “had what I believe to be a premonition.”

The gazes in the room shift over to my daughter, and I pull her against my side. She stirs, but doesn’t wake.

“And that’s when the Grayhides went after her?”

Emin nods. “Veva was defending herself and her daughter, and that’s when I intervened.”

Without meaning to, I say, “He saved our lives.”

Emin meets my eyes, and for the first time since seeing him again, my hatred toward him is dulled. It’s the truth—if Emin hadn’t been there, I would have died protecting Sarina, and they would have taken her anyway.

“So, what this tells us is that the Grayhides are on the hunt for psychics.” Dorian paces, his hand coming to his chin. “We all know Jerrod was furious about Kira leaving, and when he learned of her abilities, that’s when he attempted to retrieve her.”

Dorian’s hands are clenched, his shoulders tight. I almost ask what he’s talking about, but I know it’s not my place. Maybe I could ask Kira about it, what he means by retrieve.

“But they’re not going after Kira anymore,” Kellen says, his eyes swinging to me, and a shudder runs down my back.

I’ve never spoken to the man before, but I know all about him. Saw the worst parts of him in his son, and it makes me bristle now. I glare back at him, watch as surprise flits over his features, tinged with confusion.

Of course, he doesn’t understand why I would hate him.

“That’s right,” a woman to my left says, running a hand through her short hair.

I think someone called her Leta earlier.

“So either they know that, with Kira’s position as Luna and Dorian’s mate, it would be too hard to get her”—her gaze swings to me and Sarina—“or there’s something about your daughter specifically that they want. ”

“Veva is a powerful caster,” Emin says, and I hate the way my skin prickles with pleasure at the sound of those words—him admitting that. I remind my body that I want no further reactions to him, like I could possibly train it to behave better. “Maybe that could make Sarina’s gift stronger?”

“Potentially,” Leta says, brow furrowed. “Claire?”

A woman with red hair shakes her head. “I’m not sure.”

“We should talk to Beth,” Leta offers. “See if she knows anything about a potential correlation there.”

“Okay,” Dorian says. “So what we do know is that the Grayhides were willing to come into our territory to try and get these two. Granted, it was the very edge, but they still crossed through. As of right now, we’ve had some border patrol shifters dump the bodies in the desert, Grayhide area, to try and make it look like an accident, but Emin made that pretty difficult. ”

Dorian glances at his friend, reproachful, and I try not to think about the wet smack of Emin hitting that man with the fire extinguisher. I try not to think about the satisfaction I felt when he tossed the man’s body over the railing, like he was taking out the trash.

“That means,” Dorian goes on, “that we’re looking at more Grayhide attacks.

That’s the last thing we need right now, especially since Aidan isn’t ready to take on Jerrod yet.

So we’re going to play defense, put more effort into keeping them out, but otherwise, we’re stopping all other activities in their territory.

Right now, we’re waiting until the right time to strike. ”

“I’ll communicate that to our border people,” Leta says. “And maybe we should add more?”

“Do it,” Dorian says, then, turning to me, “Veva, we would still like for you to stay and help with our project. Given what happened with you at the motel, we think it might be a good idea for you to stay with someone. It will be safer for you and Sarina, instead of being alone and near the edge of town like that.”

I bite my lip, shift in my chair. The last thing I want is to sound ungrateful, but if we continue staying with Dorian and Kira, neither Sarina or I will get any sleep.

But I don’t have to say a thing. Dorian gives me a knowing grin. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to ask that you stay with Kira and me. The boys are a lot.”

I hold his gaze, hearing what he’s not saying—those are his children. One night is one thing, but having Sarina and I in that house, when it could draw a threat to his boys? Not something he wants to do.

And I respect it.

“They can stay with me.”

All the eyes around the table swing to Emin, who’s sitting with his arms crossed, looking relaxed. But his eyes are on me, focused. Determined.

I square my jaw. My first instinct is to say, no way in hell , but then I’m reminded of the way he leapt across the balconies at the motel. How he took that risk to protect us.

Sarina shifts against my side, and I look up to the ceiling for a moment. Logically, staying with Emin makes the most sense. I know him, and I know he’ll protect us. I’ve already seen it.

“Fine,” I say, and watch as surprise moves over Dorian’s face. It probably doesn’t make sense to him, the way I reacted in the hospital room, only to give in instantly to this. But I have to do what’s best for my daughter, even if it makes me uncomfortable.

No matter how grateful I am to Emin for protecting us at the motel, I promise myself I won’t forget.

I won’t forget leaving my home, going through my pregnancy alone.

I won’t forget raising my girl in that camp, and I won’t take my eyes off the goal here—to help Sarina grow up into an amazing woman, and get her far, far away from here.

I level a stare at Emin, hoping he can read exactly what the expression on my face is saying.

We’ll stay with you, but you are not forgiven.