Page 163 of Saddle and Scent
Every head in the crowd turns to look at me, and I feel my stomach drop as I realize he's about to make this confrontation very public and very personal.
"I'm fine where I am," I call back, though my voice comes out less steady than I'd like.
"Oh, I insist," he says, his tone making it clear that this isn't really a request. "You see, folks, Ms. Bell here owns a property that's essential to our development plans. And unfortunately, she's been resistant to very generous offers for her land."
The crowd's attention feels heavy and expectant, and I can sense people trying to understand the dynamics of whatever drama is about to unfold.
"So I'm going to make this very simple," Marcus continues, his voice taking on the kind of finality usually reserved for ultimatums. "Ms. Bell has until the end of this week to accept our purchase offer for her property. If she continues to refuse, well... let's just say that operating a business in a community that's transitioning to new economic models can become very challenging very quickly."
The threat is delivered with the kind of polished professionalism that makes it sound almost reasonable, but everyone present understands exactly what he's saying: sell or be forced out through systematic harassment and bureaucratic pressure.
"Is that a threat?" I ask, projecting my voice so everyone can hear.
"It's a business reality," he responds smoothly. "Nothing personal, you understand. Just economics."
The casual way he dismisses the impact on my life, on the sanctuary we're building, on the community connections that give this place meaning, finally pushes me past the point of diplomatic restraint.
"No," I say clearly, stepping forward so I'm visible to the entire crowd. "I will not sell my land to you. Not this week, not next month, not ever. That property is going to remain a sanctuary for animals and a working ranch that serves this community, exactly as my aunt intended."
A murmur of approval runs through the crowd, and I can see nods of support from people who understand what's at stake here.
"Furthermore," I continue, my voice gaining strength with each word, "I think this community deserves better than having its future decided by someone who sees dollar signs where other people see home."
"How admirable," Marcus says, his tone dripping with condescension. "Though I'm curious how you plan to maintain your little sanctuary when the infrastructure supporting it continues to disappear. Mail delivery today, utility services tomorrow, road maintenance next week. It's amazing how expensive rural living can become when local governments start prioritizing development over maintenance."
The systematic nature of his threats makes my blood boil, but before I can respond, Callum steps forward.
"She won't be maintaining it alone," he says, his voice carrying easily across the square.
Wes moves to stand beside him. "That's right. This isn't one person against your development plans."
Beckett completes the formation, the three of them presenting a united front that speaks to deeper commitments than simple friendship.
"In fact," Callum continues, his voice taking on the kind of formal tone usually reserved for official announcements, "we'd like to make our intentions clear to everyone present."
My heart starts hammering against my ribs as I realize what they're about to do, the magnitude of the public declaration they're preparing to make.
"We intend to bond with Juniper," Wes says clearly, his words carrying to every corner of the gathered crowd. "Which means this isn't just her fight anymore."
"It's a pack decision," Beckett adds, his voice carrying the kind of quiet authority that makes people listen. "And we reject everything your development represents."
The formal declaration of their bonding intentions sends shock waves through the crowd, because everyone understands the legal and social implications of what they're announcing. A bonded pack has different rights and protections than individual property owners, different status in community decisions, different power to resist outside pressure.
But more than the legal implications, their public commitment represents something that goes far beyond property disputes or development plans. It's a declaration of love and loyalty and determination to build something lasting together.
"Moreover," Callum continues, "we're prepared to counter any financial offer you make to other property owners in this community. Dollar for dollar, we'll match your attempts to buy up local businesses and homes."
"Because some things," Wes adds, "are worth more than money can measure."
"And this community," Beckett finishes, "is one of them."
The silence that follows their declaration is heavy with implications and possibilities. Because what they've just announced isn't just personal—it's a direct challenge to Marcus's entire strategy, backed by resources he probably didn't know they possessed.
Marcus's expression cycles through surprise, calculation, and something that looks like genuine fury before settling into the kind of cold smile that suggests this confrontation is far from over.
"How romantic," he says finally, his tone making the word sound like an insult. "Though I wonder if your sentimental attachment to this place will survive what comes next."
"Only one way to find out," I say, moving to stand with my three Alphas in a formation that makes our united front unmistakable.
