The drive from the council meeting took eleven hours. I took the trip alone, because that’s how I always do things. But now I’m regretting it. My hands hurt from the wheel, and my back hurts from the seat, and under it all, there’s a low, steady warmth in my belly that hasn’t ebbed since the storage room.
I park behind the equipment shed, step out of the truck, and stare up at the sky for a minute. My wolf is restless. Anxious.
Something’s wrong. Not wrong with him, not physically. Wrong around him. His presence has a quality I’ve felt before. The alertness of a man preparing for something.
I go inside.
The lodge kitchen is occupied. Brenna at the head of the table with papers spread in front of her. Conner beside her with his arm around the back of Willow’s chair. Merric across from them. A cup of coffee in every hand, the weight of post-hearing debriefing in the air.
They look up when I come in. Conner’s nostrils flare.
He knows.
I see the moment he places the scent. His eyes widen slightly — recognition, disbelief, and then something harder to read. He doesn’t say anything. Willow touches his arm.
“Briar,” Brenna says. “Sit down.”
I sit. I don’t drink coffee. My stomach has been doing strange things since the clearing, and I’m not adding caffeine to the list.
“Drive okay?”
“Good enough.”
“We were just going over the hearing. Conner’s testimony held up. Arden’s did too. The council has issued a formal notice of inquiry against the Forresters. All of them, not just Garrett. The southern alliance is fracturing. Bern’s people are realizing they played the wrong game.”
“Good.”
“And Garrett.” She watches me. “Standing up and confirming everything wasn’t what anyone expected.”
“No.”
“Do you know why he did it?”
“No.”
She doesn’t push. She turns to Conner. “Your read on your brother right now?”
Conner’s jaw works. He’s still processing whatever he scented on me, and I can feel him looking at me sideways, trying to reconcile the intelligence with the woman sitting across from him.
“He’s unraveling,” Conner says. “But not the way I expected. He’s not falling apart. He’s letting go. It’s different.”
Merric nods slowly. “I noticed. He held himself like a man who’d already made a decision.”
The phone in the kitchen rings.
Not the mobile. The old landline, the one Brenna keeps because some of the older packs still use it. It rings loud in the quiet room, and Brenna stands and answers on the second ring.
“Hello.”
She listens. Her face goes still. “Yes.”
A pause.
“I know. Why are you calling?”
My wolf comes up fast behind my ribs. I grip the edge of the table. Conner’s watching me, eyes narrowed now.
Brenna’s face doesn’t move. “How old are the children?”