Page 179 of Knotting the Cowboys

"Someone left a dead rabbit on the fence post," River adds. "Tuesday morning. Could have been coyotes, but..."

"But it was positioned too deliberately," Mavi finishes. "Displayed, not dropped."

Each revelation feels like another stone added to the weight in my chest. All these threats I didn't know about, dangers they've been quietly handling while I played house and pretended we were safe.

"You should have told me," I whisper.

"We handled it," Cole says, but there's apology in his tone.

"Like you handled Celeste's situation?" The words escape harsh and accusing, and I immediately want to take them back. But they hang in the air like smoke, impossible to reclaim.

Cole flinches like I've slapped him. River's hands clench into fists. Even Austin stops his pacing, Luna whimpering at the sudden stillness. The comparison is cruel but accurate—they're making the same mistakes, thinking protection means keeping me in the dark.

"That's not fair," Austin says quietly, but there's no heat in it. Just hurt.

"Isn't it?" I stand, needing movement, needing distance from the suffocating weight of their good intentions. "You're doing exactly what you did before. Deciding what I need to know, when I need to know it. How did that work out?"

"Willa—" River starts, but I'm not done.

"I'm not a child. I'm not fragile. I survived years with Blake and his calculative pack, survived that fire, survived starting over with nothing." My voice cracks, betraying the strength I'm trying to project. "I deserve to know when I'm being threatened. I deserve to be part of protecting myself."

Heavy silence follows my outburst. Luna's soft whimpers are the only sound until Chief Reyes clears her throat.

"She's right," the chief says simply. "Protective isolation often enables predators. Information sharing is crucial for safety."

"We were trying—" Cole begins, then stops, running his bandaged hand through his hair. "Fuck. We were trying not to scare you."

"I'm already scared," I admit, the fight draining out of me as quickly as it came. "Have been since the day I married Blake. At least when I know what's happening, I can prepare. Can fight back."

Austin returns to the couch, settling Luna against his chest. She grabs for my hand with perfect baby timing, and I let her tiny fingers wrap around mine. The touch grounds me, reminds me what we're really fighting for.

"No more secrets," River says firmly. "No more protecting you from hard truths. You're pack, you deserve full disclosure."

"All of us together," Cole agrees, meeting my eyes with something like understanding. "No more split decisions."

Chief Reyes nods approvingly. "Good. Unity is your best defense. That and the law." She stands, radiating authority despite her smaller stature. "Deputy Martinez will finish the perimeter check, then maintain presence until the morning shift. Tomorrow, we'll have officers on rotation."

"Thank you," I manage, meaning it despite the fear still coursing through my veins.

She pauses at the door, looking back at our ragtag pack clustered in the living room. "We failed Celeste Torres. That's on us, on the system that should have protected her. But we learn. We adapt. And we don't fail twice."

Wendolyn hugs me goodbye, whispering fierce promises about the whole town having my back. Dr. Sylvie's card burns in my pocket, a lifeline I didn't know I needed. They leave together, Chief Reyes already on her radio coordinating increased patrols.

We watch through the window as their vehicles disappear down the drive, leaving us alone with the weight of everything we've learned. Deputy Martinez's flashlight continues its steady sweep, a small beacon against the pressing darkness.

"She never told us about the calls either," Austin says suddenly, Luna drowsing against his shoulder. "Celeste. Found out after she died that her ex had been calling for weeks. Escalating. Making specific threats she never shared."

"She was trying to protect us," River adds quietly. "Said we'd done enough, that she could handle it."

The parallel hits too close, and I sink back onto the couch. These strong, capable men who've already lost one omega to pride and secrets and misplaced protection. No wonder they hover. No wonder they track every threat with obsessive detail.

"We can't change what happened to her," I say finally. "But we can learn from it. All of us."

Cole settles beside me, careful not to crowd but close enough that I can feel his warmth. "Together," he agrees. "No more isolation. No more?—"

Headlights sweep across the window, cutting off his words. We all tense, tracking the slow approach of a dark sedan. It pauses at our gate—longer than curiosity would warrant, not long enough to be obviously surveilling. The engine idles, a predatory purr in the quiet night.

Mavi's already at his laptop, fingers flying. "Can't get a clear plate from this angle. But the make and model..."

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