35. Annabella
Chapter thirty-five
Annabella
Ten minutes ago, I’d been watching a family put itself back together in a gravel driveway. Now I was walking into a building full of people who might want me dead.
What did Wally say? A typical Tuesday. Thursday. Whatever. I could do this.
Shaw Investigations smelled like old coffee and gun oil and the thick, layered musk of too many dominant wolves packed into a space designed for half this number.
My wolf took in every scent as we crossed the threshold—Alpha, Alpha, enforcer, enforcer, Alpha, witch, unknown, unknown—and filed them all under potential threat.
Sam held the door. I walked through without thanking him, because I was still furious, and because the second I stepped inside, seventeen heads turned toward me and silver-green light flickered around my fingers.
Because of course they did. My magic had discovered it could do this, and it seemed it had zero interest in my opinions about when and where.
I quickly snuffed out the glow, hyper aware that nothing says, “Don’t worry, I’m friendly” like walking into a room full of apex predators and lighting up like a hex grenade.
Not the entrance I’d planned.
Sam stepped in beside me. Closer than casual; his shoulder against mine, his body angled so he stood between me and the room.
One hand settled on the back of my neck—warm, firm, unhurried.
It was a statement. Every wolf in that room saw it.
Every wolf in that room understood exactly what it meant.
Something shifted in the room the second he touched me; a recalculation, quick and quiet, running through every predator in the space.
The half-breed witch they’d been sizing up was now a Shaw mate. Protected territory.
Sam dropped his hand and moved to the back wall like nothing had happened.
“Subtle,” I muttered when I reached the wall.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Hmmm.
I planted myself against the wall. It was close to the exit, had a clear sightline to the windows, and there was nobody behind me.
My wolf approved. Sam leaned against the wall beside me, all easy confidence, like he hadn’t just staked a claim on me in front of every dominant wolf in Three Rivers.
The bond hummed between us, warm and steady, and some of the tension I’d been carrying since we walked in loosened a fraction.
I let it. Just this once. Because I was surrounded by people who could smell weakness, and I’d already given them the glowing finger show. No need to add anxious to the list.
“It’s too crowded in here,” I muttered.
“You should’ve seen it when Mason brought his Pack for joint operations. Waylen set up his entire mobile command center on the conference table—six laptops, two servers, four monitors, and something he called his ‘portable drone station.’“
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. And then the table collapsed. Mid-presentation. He was showing both Packs his new security grid system when the whole thing just gave out. Equipment everywhere, Waylen diving to save his servers, Ryan and Mason covered in coffee.” Sam’s grin had an edge to it.
“Ryan made him pay for the replacement table out of his own paycheck. Took him months.”
The replacement table dominated the center of the room now.
A massive slab of reclaimed wood that could seat twelve comfortably.
Right now, too many bodies were crammed around it, some seated, others standing against the other walls like they were holding them up.
In the corner near the windows, someone had set up a play space—scuffed blue foam mats, a wooden stacking ring with the red piece missing, a basket overflowing with chunky board books and rubber animals.
A stuffed gray wolf with one ear chewed flat sat propped against the wall.
Ryan sat at the head of the table, perfectly still in that way that made everyone else seem restless by comparison, Mai to his right.
Derek walked into the room, holding Sofia’s hand, Jase on their heels.
Sofia’s eyes were red-rimmed, but her back was straight.
Derek steered her to the chair on Ryan’s left, settling in beside her.
Jase moved to the wall. One of the twins, Oakley, I guessed, immediately made a beeline for him, arms up.
Jase scooped the kid onto his hip and settled him there like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Victoria toddled straight up to Derek and held out a wooden block.
He took it, kissed Victoria on the cheek, without breaking his conversation with Sofia, and absently adding it to a small tower beside his chair.
No one remarked on any of it. No one seemed to think it was unusual that the Alpha’s children were present for what was clearly a war council.
Huh. So this was what it looked like when a Pack was also a family. When children grew up knowing they belonged.
“Some of you haven’t met,” Ryan said, his voice cutting through the low murmur of conversation. “So let’s make this quick. Mason Shaw and Shya Little, Bridgetown Pack Alphas.”
Mason was unmistakably a Shaw: dark hair, broad shoulders, the kind of frame that could do damage.
But while every other wolf in the room was leaking tension, with micro-movements, shifting weight, jaws held too tight, Mason sat with his hands flat on the table and gave away absolutely nothing.
No tells. No tension. No wasted movement.
The only people I’d ever seen sit like that were either completely at peace or extremely dangerous. My money wasn’t on peace.
Beside him sat Shya, petite and polished, her blazer perfectly tailored, her curly auburn hair pulled back in a way that probably took effort to look effortless.
She could’ve been heading to a boardroom or a runway.
But her green eyes moved constantly, clocking threats and exits with a speed that made my wolf sit up and pay attention.
Small frame, fierce energy. Something about her made it clear: underestimate her at your own risk.
Mason and Shya both nodded.
“Henry Little,” Ryan continued.
A young wolf—eighteen, nineteen maybe—sat on Shya’s other side in a plain black Henley that fit like he’d bought it for function, not fashion.
His chair was angled so he could see both the door and the windows without turning his head.
Tactical positioning. Someone had trained this kid and trained him well.
When Ryan said his name, his eyes didn’t dart away like most wolves his age would when addressed by an Alpha.
He just nodded once, calm. No bluster, no nerves, no performance.
Just quiet acknowledgment from someone who already knew exactly where he fit in this room.
My wolf liked him immediately.
“Next, Talia Johnson of the Wolf Council. Bethany Rose, Council enforcer.”
Talia sat straight-backed in her chair, dark suit fresh.
She must have changed since the road. She didn’t look at me.
I didn’t take it personally. Bethany Rose stood behind Talia’s chair in a dove-gray suit that was cut close and expensive, her blonde hair swept back, body relaxed, hands clasped in front of her.
Her body language screamed, “I’m no threat.
” My wolf disagreed. Something about the way she smelled put every hair on the back of my neck up.
I’d briefed my crew on Council enforcers.
Bethany Rose’s file had one note circled three times: can detect witch magic by scent.
She was the Council’s hunting dog in designer clothing.
“Gideon Calloway, also Council enforcer,” Ryan continued.
Gideon lounged against the wall near the door, looking bored. He caught me looking and winked. I scowled back.
“Carlito Mendez runs Shaw Investigations now,” Ryan said, nodding to a Shifter near the windows who had a tablet in hand, making notes with quick, efficient movements. “Jase Miller, enforcer and employee of Shaw Investigations.”
My cousin straightened at the acknowledgment.
“Jem Parker, former Alpha, and Esme Parker, adopted sister and witch of the Three Rivers Pack.”
Jem stood near the wall—not at the table, I noticed, though a former Alpha had every right to a seat. One hand rested on Esme’s shoulder. She stood beside him, bare feet on the office floor. She gave me a big smile when Ryan said her name.
Waylen sat in front of three laptops at a smaller desk in the corner, one leg bouncing under the table. A half-eaten granola bar sat forgotten beside his elbow.
A Shifter I didn’t recognize stood with the other enforcers near the door; sharp-eyed, athletic build, probably mid-thirties. Two more enforcers I didn’t know flanked the windows.
Mina and Zeke had positioned themselves against the wall near where Sam and I stood. Mina caught my eye and gave me a small smile. Zeke’s shoulders dropped slightly when he spotted me; he’d been wound tight, and something about me being here loosened it. At least someone was glad I’d shown up.
“Derek and Waylen gave them the same briefing we gave you. They’re on board,” Sam whispered to me.
My eyes shot to Mina’s. She nodded to me.
Damn it, I had wanted the news about what Simon had really been up to to come from me.
Sam must have known what I was thinking. “We had to get your family, and they had to know. We needed to make sure they didn’t try to contact Webster to tell him that you were out and where you are.”
I nodded. I knew he was right, but I still felt like I’d failed my crew.