The question hit Dom like a punch to the gut. He looked around at the five people who’d followed him across the country, who’d built something together based on loyalty and shared purpose. The weight of their eyes pressed down on him.
“Nothing changes,” he said firmly. “My commitment to this pack, to this mission, stays the same.”
Axel’s dry laugh held no humor. “Fated mates don’t work that way, and you know it.”
“What does this mean for Steel Protection?” Siren asked, her tone cold. “What happens when she calls? When she needs you? Are we just supposed to wait while you rush across the country to find her?”
Dom’s phone buzzed again, and every pair of eyes tracked his involuntary glance toward it. The silence that followed felt dangerous. “I don’t know where she lives,” he admitted.
“You’ve been texting all day but don’t know where she lives?” Hunter’s question was deceptively casual.
Dom’s chest tightened. The practical questions he’d been avoiding suddenly seemed like land mines in a field he had to cross. “We’re building a connection. Getting to know each other.”
“Maybe she’s not local,” Ryder suggested, trying to ease the tension. “Maybe that’s why he didn’t tell us.”
Siren’s eyes narrowed. “Which is it, Dom? Is she local or across the country? Because we need to know. We need to plan.”
Dom could feel his carefully constructed leadership beginning to crack under the pressure of questions he couldn’t answer.
“Five years,” Siren continued, her voice dropping to the dangerous quiet that had made enemy combatants wet themselves. “Five years we’ve followed you. Built this together.”
“Rookie Bear understands the weight we carry. She gets it in a way most people never could.”
“Then where is she?” Hunter pressed. “When are you meeting her? What’s the plan?”
He could feel his pack watching, waiting, judging every micro-expression. The office phone rang, cutting through the tension like a blade. Dom grabbed it, grateful for any interruption.
“Steel Protection. How can we help you?”
The woman’s voice was shaky and nervous. “I saw your ad in the paper.”
Dom straightened, his professional instincts overriding everything else. “Yes, ma’am. This is Dominic Steel. How can I assist you?”
“I need help.” The words came out in a rush. “There are people who might want to hurt me, and I don’t know what to do.”
Around the room, his pack had gone still at hearing his tone. This was probably their first real client. After the diner incident and the community’s cold reception, they needed proof that Steel Protection could help in Fate Mountain.
“Can you give me some details about the threat?” Dom asked, pulling out a notepad.
“I can’t... I can’t explain over the phone. Can we meet? Tomorrow morning?”
“Of course. What’s your name and address?”
“Becca Matthews, 1226 Pine Ridge Road. Can you be here at nine AM?”
Dom wrote down the information, his protective instincts kicking in.
“We’ll be there, Ms. Matthews. If possible, have someone you trust stay with you until we arrive, keep your doors and windows locked, and call 911 if you feel you’re in immediate danger.”
“Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you so much.”
Dom hung up and looked around at his pack. For a moment, the mate bond crisis was forgotten.
“First client,” he announced.
Siren’s smile was sharp with satisfaction. “Right on time.”
“I’ll do a proper assessment tomorrow morning,” Dom said. “See what she’s actually dealing with before we determine next steps.”
