24
Monday,dawn arrived at the ranch in a whisper of lavender and rose streaking the leaden sky. Restless, I had managed to sleep only when Dante insisted on giving me a long massage, complete with two glasses ofwine.
I’d fallen asleep in the arms of my boys, who wrapped themselves around me, fierce andprotective.
Me, Peyton, who could apparently controlwerewolves.
But now with the break of dawn, I awakened to find myself alone. The chill in the air had wakened me, along with the first shafts of sunrise streaming into thebedroom.
Dawn, and I was still at the ranch, not Earl Brown’sprisoner.
Dawn, and the pack would pay for my boys refusing to surrenderme.
Unsure how the pack would react to my presence, I showered quickly, dressed in pragmatic jeans, a comfortable T-shirt and boots, and went downstairs. In the living room, two shifters with long guns stood next to the door. I nodded at them and they touched their foreheads in the same measure of respect shown to thealpha.
The gesture gave me no comfort, for their weapons were a grim reminder that peace would soon beshattered.
All because ofme.
Anxiety churned in my stomach as I headed for the kitchen. I didn’t see anyone, but Dante was in the dining hall, talking quietly to Alex and a few other men. No sign ofGabriel.
Everyone glanced up at seeingme.
Dante strode over to me, kissed my right cheek while Alex kissed myleft.
“Do you want breakfast?” Danteasked.
“I can make eggs and toast,” Alex offered. “There’s fresh coffee on thesideboard.”
I shook my head. Eating was the last thing on mymind.
“Where is everyone?” I rubbed my arms as I walked over to the papers strewn all over the table. They looked like legalpapers.
“Gabe’s out front with a contingency of our best fighters, guarding the frontgate.”
I knew Gabriel headed Dante’s security forces and was the pack enforcer. But knowing he remained outside, on the front lines of trouble while I was inside, being offered food and coffee, made my chesthurt.
What if something happened to him? Or one of theothers?
I thought of Felicia, sleeping in the underground bunker, for all the children spent last night there, along with two of Dante’s bestmen.
No one should have to fight for me, die for me, Peyton, the psi human woman who belonged at a desk cubicle, not a shifter ranch. Peyton, the human who only immersed herself in the shifter world because she’d needed tomoonlight.
I didn’t belonghere.
But now, I could notleave.
The gaping canyon between our worlds seemed too large tobridge.
I pointed to the table. “What’s that? Looks like you’re fighting a legal battle, not an actualone.”
“We are,” Alexanswered.
Well, this was welcome news. Maybe the attorneys could battle it out and no one had to use fangs andclaws.
“Steel cage death match withlawyers?”
But no one smiled. Alex sighed. “These are the wills of all the shifters fighting today, and the rules laid out by the Council of Shifters for a pack war. We have to make absolutely certain that protocol isfollowed.”