“And that’s just up for you to decide?”
“In this? Yes.”
He tore away before she could say more and dashed outside.
Malcolm and the gaggle of witches were collected on the edge of the lawn, fifty feet away from the house, ensuring their privacy.
He froze at the bottom of the steps, meeting his alpha’s eyes, feeling the power and the summons in them. Asher tore off his shirt and felt the braided leather around his neck with his paperclip. Deliberately, he pulled it over his head, and Quinn gasped.
“Don’t,” Malcolm said.
Asher let it drop from his fingertips and then gave up. He gave up the fight, the denial, and the control.
The wolf flowed into form with relish and leaped out of his pants as hips shrank before its tail flicked them away.
It fled into the woods in seconds, and Asher tried to stay present through the disorienting loss of all his senses. He could still hear what the wolf heard and feel with the wolf felt, but it was always one step removed. The world retreated into cotton wool, a sensation he remembered. He’d spent years trapped like this until he forgot he was human at all.
As he suspected, his wolf headed for their den far up in the mountains. His heart ached for his mate, his family, and the hope he’d cherished for what was possible, but he knew he would forget that, too.
Beneath the grief, there was a fear and pride that he had made this choice. He wanted them all, but he could not have them and keep them safe, so at least he could do this for them.
18
Penn watched the gray wolf disappear into the trees, taking a piece of her heart with him. Her grief was enormous and surprising.
Yes, she was currently sitting in his home with his family, where she’d moved to be with him. She’d accepted there was some kind of connection between them. The sex was hot as hell. She did like him.
All of that added up to security and the potential for more, but faced with the loss of him, none of it mattered. She swung back to his family and realized she would give all of this up again and again and again if it meant she could have him.
She loved him.
It was too soon, but what else should she call this feeling of absolute devastation? Suddenly, living in the world without any kind of safety and continuity didn’t matter at all.
“This can’t be up to him,” she said to the assembled wolves and witches, strangers all of them until last night, when she’d been reluctant to ask for a glass of water. Now she was begging them for his life. “You have to help him.”
“It’s not as simple as helping him,” the older woman, Kathleen, said slowly. Penn remembered she was the alpha’s mother, awitch.
“It is that simple,” Malcolm said.
“You can’t sacrifice everyone for one man,” Quinn said from beside him, one hand on her belly.
Penn shouldn’t shout at a pregnant woman. That had to be bad. She bit down on her tongue until she could ask in a normal voice, “And if it was your mate?”
Quinn clutched at Malcolm’s arm.
“You can’t just…” Kathleen said. “This is not a dictatorship!”
Malcolm gave a shout of laughter that had Penn shaking in her shoes.
“This is literally a dictatorship. But—” He held up a hand before his mother could explode. “Not in this. We’re going to talk and we’re going to vote.”
“Who is we?” Penn asked, and what favors, blackmail, or threats did she have to do to get them to agree?
“I’ll call the pack,” Malcolm said.
“You cannot risk this!” Kathleen shouted.
“I’m not. I’m asking them if they want to. Everyone can choose for themselves. It’s not just Asher. You know there are more wolves on this land that would like to be rid of the snake, even if Asher were completely fine.”
