She’s crying now, not bothering to restrain herself. “Tilda…”
“Enid,” I say steadily. “I was fourteen when you were born. And then our parents were gone, and I was basically your mom. I’ve given my whole life to you, little sister. Can you give me this?”
She swallows hard, strengthening her resolve. I don’t know if that resolution is to double down and force me to stay, or to set me free. Enid grasps my hands tightly, then gazes up at me.
“You really love him?” she asks.
“With everything I am,” I whisper.
“Okay,” she says. She takes one hand from me and swipes at her eyes, sniffling loudly. “Okay. I’m going to…I just have to take care of the guard.”
Before she can pull away, I fling my arms around her neck and pull her into a tight hug. My little sister—my strong and brave little sister—sobs against my shoulder, and we just stand there for an infinite minute as we enjoy this moment together.
I believe it won’t be the last.
We pull away slowly, Enid sniffling loudly. At least she’ll be able to make it seem like we were fighting. “We should give it until nightfall, and then I’ll open the door for ya,” she says. “I’m going to clear a path toward the gate. You think you can slip out?”
“There’s a gap in the fence just south of the main gate,” I say. “Might want to get that patched up, actually. Wouldn’t want any wolves creeping in.”
She scowls, but I just laugh.
“I’m kidding, Enid,” I say. “No one is going to hurt y’all. And you know that if you want to join us, there’s a place for you.”
I put my hand on her shoulder, and she covers my hand with hers.
“I know,” she says. “I’ll see you in an hour.”
“See you in an hour,” I say. “I love you, Enid.”
She smiles, fighting back tears. “Love you too, Tillie.”
And then she leaves me alone, hanging on to the hope that she’ll stick to her word.
34
REYES
As the full moon rises, the den hums with an energy unlike anything I’ve ever felt.
The usual restless anticipation of a night of rutting has shifted into something sharper, more focused. Tonight, we’re not just running under the stars for the thrill of it, partying at the community center and all around the den. Tonight, we’re hunting—not for prey, but for one of our own.
We’re going to get my mate.
Frankie spent the past six days scouting the settlement, moving like a ghost through Homestead’s outskirts, and she’s returned with a detailed plan. The tension in the room crackles as we gather around the den’s central table, lit by a low, flickering lantern. Frankie leans over the map spread out before us, her sharp eyes scanning the faces of our team, her jaw set with the determination that’s carried her through countless missions.
Her gaze locks on me. “Alright, listen up,” she says. “We’re not walking into this blind. Homestead’s defenses are sloppy—Patrick’s people have grown too comfortable. There’s a breach in the fence here.” She taps the map with a dirt-streaked finger. “It’s big enough for wolves in shifted form to slip through, and it’s unguarded for now. We’ll move under cover of the moon and go straight for the jail. That’s where they’re keeping Tilda.”
The room is silent except for the scratch of Frankie’s pen as she sketches out the routes. My chest tightens as I think about Tilda sitting in some dark cell, waiting for me. The thought of her alone and vulnerable makes me want to smash through every barrier between us, but I know that charging in recklessly will only get her—and all of us—killed.
“We’re not going in for a fight,” I remind her. “Minimal damage, minimal bloodshed. We’re there to get Tilda and leave. Nothing more.”
Frankie doesn’t argue, but her jaw tightens, and I make a mental note to keep her within arm’s reach. The others exchange glances, worried. They’ve all seen Frankie in battle—they know what she’s capable of.
After what happened, I don’t think she would hesitate to slaughter every person in Homestead.
“I’m coming with you,” Elijah says, breaking the silence. His voice is steady, calm, but there’s a fire in his eyes. “You shouldn’t have to do this alone.”
I meet his gaze, grateful but wary. “It’s not your fight, Elijah. You don’t have to?—”