Chapter 23
Briar
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?”
A pause.
“And you’re asking me to take them.”
Another pause, longer.
“You’re serious about refusing them.”
She walks to the window with her back to us, the phone cord stretched. I can feel Garrett — his voice on the other end, the importance of what he’s saying, the absence of fear or hesitation. A man doing a thing he’s committed to.
“You understand what that means.” Brenna shifts her weight, listening. “All right. We’ll take the family. I’ll have a team at a rendezvous point tomorrow. I’ll text you the location.”
Conner is half out of his chair. Willow has her hand on his arm.
“Garrett.” Brenna’s voice softens by a fraction. “If you’re serious about this, you’re going to need help you don’t have.”
A long pause.
“We can talk about that when the family is safe.”
She’s quiet for several seconds. Then: “One more thing. Briar was there today. She came back quiet. Quieter than usual. I’m not asking for details. But whatever is between the two of you is likely to affect what we’re about to do. So I need to know where it stands.”
I don’t breathe. The tension in me vibrates. Brenna listens. Her expression shifts, not quite a frown. He’s answered something without answering it.
“That’ll have to do for now. But there are questions that will eventually need answers.”
Pause.
“All right. I’ll handle my end. You handle yours. Stay alive long enough for the rest of it to matter.”
She hangs up.
The kitchen is silent. Brenna turns. Her eyes find mine first, then move to the others.
“The Syndicate delivered a family to the Forrester gate this afternoon. Two adults, two children. Magic-blood. Beaten but alive. A note demanding Garrett resume the corridor.”
Conner closes his eyes.
Brenna continues. “Garrett opened the cage. He’s sending them to us. He’s also drawing the Syndicate off the compound. We’re not clear on how, but he knows they’ll come for him when they come, and he’s going to make sure they find him somewhere other than home.”
Merric stands. “Rendezvous?”
“Tomorrow morning. I’ll send him the location once we pin it down.”
“I’ll take a team.”
“I’ll go,” I say.
Everyone looks at me. Conner’s expression is now openly strange.
“You just drove eleven hours,” Brenna says.
“I know the area. I know the approaches to the Forrester territory better than anyone here. If the Syndicate has eyes on the roads — and they will — I can read a tail better than Merric’s fighters can. I’m going.”
Brenna studies me. I watch her decide not to argue.
“Fine. You, Merric, Conner, Sienna. Leave at midnight. That should put you at the rendezvous by dawn.”
“I want Willow,” Conner says.
Brenna turns to him. “Con—”
“If there are children, she needs to be there. Her thread-sense will tell us if they’re being tracked. And the kids will respond better to a woman than to a man with our reputations.”
Brenna nods. “Willow too. Five of you. Any more than that and we’ll look like an invasion force.”
Merric stands, already planning. He steps out to assemble gear. Sienna is already in the doorway — she came in at some point during the call, I didn’t notice. Willow stays, her hand on Conner’s arm, her eyes on me.
Brenna walks around the table and stops beside my chair. Her hand settles briefly on my shoulder — a rare gesture from her. Her eyes hold mine.
“Whatever’s going on with you,” she says quietly, “I trust you to manage it. But if there comes a point where you can’t… you tell me. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
She squeezes once, then walks out.
Conner is still looking at me. He hasn’t moved. Willow nudges him, and he finally pushes his chair back and stands.
“I need air,” he says, and walks out the back door.
Willow watches him go. Then she turns to me.
“He scented Garrett on you.”
“I know.”
“He’s trying to figure out what it means.”
“So am I.”
She tilts her head. The thread-sense assessment. “The connection between you is different than it was last week. Stronger. Rooted.”
“Willow, I can’t—”
“I’m not asking.” She leans forward. “I’m telling you what I can see. The thread goes both ways, and it’s thick. And it has other threads attached to it that weren’t there before. That’s all I’ll say.”
My hand goes to my belly before I can stop it.
Willow’s eyes follow the movement. She doesn’t comment. She doesn’t have to.
“When you’re ready,” she says, “I’m here. Until then, I’ll keep Conner off you. He’s confused, and he’s hurt because he doesn’t understand, and he’s my mate, so he’ll listen to me. You don’t need to explain anything tonight.”
“Thank you.”
“Go pack. You’ve got two hours.”
I leave the kitchen.