“Yes,” he says. “And I won’t hesitate next time.”

* * *

Peaches has madeit her personal mission to convince me that Reyes is just a big softie in a broody priest disguise.

She talks nonstop as we walk, her arm looped through mine like we’re old friends. It’s kind of disarming, honestly. I could pull off the blindfold if I wanted—she’s not stopping me—but there’s a steady hum of life around us. Footsteps, murmured voices, the occasional bark of laughter. At one point, I even hear kids giggling.

Kids.

The sound trips me up. What are they laughing about? Are they playing games? It doesn’t match the image I had in my head of this place—of them.

No wild animals growling, no gruesome feasts on raw meat. No howling or frenzied…other things. Just people.

Families.

It’s unsettling in a way I didn’t expect. I’m not sure what’s worse: the idea that I might’ve been wrong about them, or the nagging doubt creeping into the back of my mind about the Heavenly Host. They’ve protected Homestead for years, always delivered insulin for Enid. I believed in them because they seemed like they were doing the right thing, even I stopped believing in their divinity a long time ago. But now…

Now I don’t know what to think.

“Everyone here’s pretty friendly,” Peaches says cheerfully, her voice snapping me back to the moment. Her grip on my arm is light but steady. “They can be standoffish at first, but I think that’s just a wolf thing.”

“Reyes keeps saying stuff like that—‘wolf things,’” I say, my voice low. “I still don’t get it. I mean, yeah, I’m technically trespassing, so I get why people aren’t thrilled, but it feels like there’s more to it.”

“They’ll get used to you,” she chirps. “They’re a little hostile in the beginning, wolves always are–just haven’t been able to trust a lot of people, y’know? But they will. I mean, nobody would even talk to me when I first got here, but now we’re all one big happy family.”

“You weren’t with the pack from the beginning?” I ask. They seem so insular–I figured they hadn’t really grown since they rebelled against the Heavenly Host.

“Nope,” Peaches says. “I’m from out of town.”

I try to place her accent. “Alabama?”

She laughs, and it’s like I can hear her smiling. “Bingo! Most people guess Georgia ‘cause of the name.”

“Peaches?” I ask. “Is that your real name?”

“Oh, God no,” she says, still laughing. “But trust me, it’s better than anything my mama came up with.”

I smirk despite myself. “Let me guess. Something old-fashioned?”

She groans. “Esther.Awful, right?”

“It’s not so bad,” I tease. She reminds me of Enid–who’salsoalways hated her name.

“Don’t make me regret telling you,” she says, bumping my elbow lightly. “Anyway, the Gulf Pack wasn’t exactly into individuality. It’s all about the Prime’s rules there.”

I hesitate, processing that. “You were born into a pack?”

“Yep,” she says. “Twenty years old, born and raised lycan. Never known anything else.”

Something about the way she says it makes me pause. “You didn’t like it there?”

She’s not laughing. Not anymore. “Let’s just say omegas like me don’t get a lot of choice in the Gulf Pack. The Prime decides who we mate with, and that’s the end of it.”

“But I thought Alabama was under Heavenly Host control,” I say, frowning. “Wouldn’t they crack down on stuff like that?”

Peaches shrugs, her hand tightening on my arm for a second. “Guess they had bigger problems. All I know is, I couldn’t wait to get the hell out.”

Her words sit heavy between us, and I don’t press. The faint scent of soap reaches me, mingling with the damp, earthy smell of the cavern.