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I look at him. “That’s non-negotiable. I spent the better part of four hours aimlessly driving around with my window down, sniffing and looking. And I found nothing.”

“But we have to dosomething,” he bites out, frustration in every line of his body.

“And we will.” Swallowing my mounting frustration, I soften my tone so there’s a little less of a growl in it than before. “I get that you want to go now. I do too. But we need a plan, and we have nothing. I need to check on my pack.”

“I’ll take a walk outside,” Bennett says.

“No one will attack now,” I say on my way out of the kitchen.

It’s morning. Whoever is behind this, presumably the new Alpha of the reformed Raleigh Pack, already has what they came here for.

Aerin.

“Probably not,” he concedes as he heads out of the front door. “But it won’t hurt to have a quick walk around anyway.”

The sound of soft snores drift from behind my spare bedroom as I jog up the stairs. The nursery door is closed, and it’s too painful looking at it and imagining that it might never be used as a nursery. That Aerin might never see the surprise I prepared for her and Thumper.

I focus on the murmurs coming from mine and Aerin’s bedroom.

It’s the biggest room in the house, so this is where we got Chris and Zoe set up before I went after Aerin.

When I push the door open, the smell of coppery blood and pain hits me in the face.

Chris is in bed, sheets covering him up to his chest, and his neck is heavily bandaged. In a basket I pass on the way to the bed, are the bloodied towels we used to save his life last night. Even with the window open, the smell of pain and blood is heavy.

“How is he?” I ask Adela, dropping into a crouch beside the bed.

“Stronger than he was last night,” Adela says. “He’s sleeping easier.”

There are fewer lines of strain around his mouth and eyes.

Helena is sitting with her back to the wall next to the window, eyes closed, exhausted and a slightly greenish tinge to her face.

She was suffering from morning sickness these last few days. It must have been bad this morning for her to be sleeping. Adela probably encouraged her, but Helena is an enforcer. She’d have stayed up for three days if that’s what was needed.

“She looks green,” I say.

Adela sighs. “She said she was okay but she’s been struggling.”

“I told her to sleep.” Zoe’s voice is quiet. “She’d done more than enough.”

I look at Zoe, who hasn’t moved from Chris’s side. She’s still tightly gripping one of his hands, and the bandage she has around her head is clean. No more blood soaks through it the way it had last night.

“How’s your head?”

“What head?” her voice is dry, the faintest bit of humor in it. But she sounds exhausted.

I offer her a faint smile. “You should get some sleep.”

“I will when Chris wakes up,” she says firmly.

I nod, not pushing her.

If that was Aerin on the bed with her throat ripped open the way Chris’s had been, I’d not sleep either. “Okay.” I refocus on an equally exhausted looking Adela.

She shakes her head. “I’m fine. Gregory and Jude are sleeping. So are Penny and Colton. When they get up, I’ll rest for a bit.”

There’s no arguing with Adela when her mind is made up, so I don’t even try. “How’d you stop the bleeding?”

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