Morning was grey and damp, accompanied by sticky lips and a thick tongue and the realization that I was curled up in Gray’s arms and hadn’t brushed my teeth the night before.

I scuttled away from him and used my magic to sense outside my wards for signs of other people but found only a couple of deer and a skunk waddling off to the left of the cave entrance. I lowered the ward and slipped off to the right to a copse of trees for my morning relief, and when Gray found me, I was washing up in the frigid water of a nearby stream.

His look was dark, but I'd learned in our months together that his pissy face was also was his morning face, so I ignored it and hoped he was smart enough to take them out. He wasn't.

“You shouldn’t be out here alone, Morgan.”

“You should’ve waited for me to come back so I could give you the all clear,” I finished rinsing out my mouth and slicking my damp hair back in a ponytail. “If I’d sensed anything out here, I would’ve redone my wards, and you’d be in a coma right now.”

His jaw worked as I watched him control his temper. I’d barely known him before he was alpha, and even I could see the difference in him that came with his responsibilities…and power.

Still, I watched the tension leak out of him as he stripped to the waist and dipped his head in the mountain runoff. He flipped his hair back, rewetting me with the spray, and I reached up and grabbed a handful of his inky curls and squeezed the excess water out, wiping his back off with his shirt before handing it back to him.

“I need to speak to Carl, Gray, but like, in an official capacity, and we need to address the pack. Fairy needs them, and…I think I need them to wake Penelope. Fairy still has her tethered, leeching from her like the Fae in the pit.”

He sighed and kept his face turned away for an eternity before he answered. “Just don’t put yourself on the line for this pack, okay? They’re the ones who let Farley stick around so long he thinks he owns these woods.”

I nodded even though his back was turned. If I could heal Pen, and strengthen Gray’s stand among the packs, I’d have accomplished what I needed. But if I could bring a little of the Goddess back to the Fae, I would earn my crown, whether I ever got to wear it.

We ran together. His power carried me like a hot wind, even in his human form. I could feel the wolf beneath his skin, see it in the same space I saw the magic I conjured, Aunt Portia called it the ‘third eye’ but that image had creeped me out after meeting my first Daemon, a three-eyed shade who used the extra orb in the center of his forehead to read his victims’ minds.

The wolves were somber, the usual vitality and bustle of the camp subdued as they prepared their fallen comrade for the pyre with herbs and incantations. He was already wrapped in linen and laid out on a table with a wreath of leaves on his chest.

I leaned over him, ignoring the stain of red that tinged the linen over his throat. I conjured wildflowers, poppies and Indian paintbrush and wild roses, blanketing him in the vibrant colors and hiding even the last trace of violence under the Goddess' blessing.

Carl watched without speaking, and Sheryl tucked her arm through mine, standing with me as I gave the wolf, whose name I didn't even know, a moment of silence. The pack had seen my magic and my offering to their packmate.

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

She patted my arm with her other hand. “Farley’s a murderer, but he’s a wolf, too. We never thought he would attack the camp, not really. It was his home, once.”

“He’s a monster. What about your young?”

She sighed and tugged me to the dais where Gray and her husband were quietly talking. “We sent the kids with anyone too old or weak to fight. They’ll be fine. But we couldn’t move your friend. Our Leo is watching over her. He won’t leave her side until it’s safe.”

I squeezed her hand in thanks as we approached the men. Gray’s face was even more serious than when I’d left him, if possible.

“Alpha, if I could speak to you for a moment. I know we agreed to certain terms of my being here, but I need to change them.”

Gray growled at me and stepped between us. “Carl, she’s still learning our ways. I accept full responsibility for her lack of manners.”

"Oh, fuck you, Gray. You're right. I don't give a shit about manners right now. People are dying, and I don't have time to waste bowing and scraping to a man who already knows he has my respect."

Gray took a step toward me, his face cloudy with barely controlled anger.

But hey, what’s new?

Tryst leaped lightly onto the platform and put his hand on my elbow. “She’s right, Xenos. The Fae aren’t going to help the shifters… no one except Morgan gives a damn. Besides. She may not be pack, but she’s royalty. She outranks all of you every minute of every day, and it’s about damn time you start treating her like you remember that fact even when it doesn’t work to your advantage.”

I gaped up at Tryst, and when I glanced back at Gray, his face was the twin of mine. Tryst never stepped in unless it was good for him, and I knew exactly where it was going. Payment was due, and true to form, he'd chosen the worst possible moment to collect.

“What do you want?” I asked anyway, more as a reminder of my dislike of him than because I wanted to hear him say it aloud.

“I want my kiss and want to come with you to the Fae prison.”

Gray stiffened on the other side of me, and I scowled at the Fae, power broker. "Fine. But not until we're done here." I turned to Carl, carefully avoiding Gray's gaze. "I need to run with the wolves, to share in the shifter power, before I try to take on my cousin again."

Carl pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes at us, the two Fae standing in front of the alpha’s throne. It certainly didn’t look like we respected the pack. In my mind, I saw us the way Carl might, as two entitled Fae nobles making more demands on the magical beings around us. True to form, indeed.

“Morgan. Now is not the time.”

“Grayson,” I countered. “This doesn’t concern you. Tryst is right. I am here as the Seelie half-blood princess and licensed bounty hunter, not your shadow.”

Tryst sidled closer, and I shot him a dirty look.

“Hey, I’m on your side, Princess.”

I rolled my eyes and exhaled slowly, counting to ten. “No, you’re on your side. But for now, it serves my purpose, and you’ve given me no cause to abandon our contract.”

“Unfortunately,” Gray muttered.

Silently, I agreed with him. But he wasn’t exactly off my shit list either. “It’s still happening,” I hissed it at him under my breath so Tryst couldn’t hear him. “Carl, I will see to your son, and I…we will catch Farley.”

“Maybe we should talk to your witch friend again,” Gray whispered. “Your kind can do finder spells, right?”

"Yeah, if I had some of his hair or a blood sample. But without a piece of him, there’s nothing to attach to the spell to tell it who to seek.”

He groaned and I this time I agreed wholeheartedly. "All this magic, and never an easy fix," he muttered. It cut, even though I hoped he hadn't meant to.

“Yeah, well, I guess that means you can’t just sniff him out, huh?” He flinched and glowered at me, but relaxed as he realized what he’d said.

His arms snaked around me, and he kissed my head. "Exactly. If we're so goddamned powerful, why can't we just stop bad things from happening?"

I glanced up just in time to see Tryst frowning at us. It didn't seem like jealousy, but frustration. I wondered if, once upon a time, he'd had the kind of power that Gray was wishing for, and if he had, would helping him get it back, be as terrible as I imagined it might?

Carl and Sheryl had their own whispered discussion out of earshot, and Sheryl asked us to wait while the alpha consulted their own elders. Democracy was becoming less attractive with every minute wasted in seeking a majority rule. I knew what I had to do, and I was willing to do it, with or without help.

But Penelope needed something I couldn’t give her, so I was tethered to the pack and the Fae until she was safely back home. While it rankled to admit I’d gotten anything out of my arduous upbringing among the witches, I had learned how to keep my mouth shut and play along when I had to. The warning look on Gray’s face assured me that I was smack dab in the middle of one of those times.

Tryst glanced at the expensive watch on his wrist. What a human thing for an immortal being to do… I caught his eye and raised my eyebrow, and as if he realized what I was thinking, he tugged down the sleeve of his blazer to cover his wrist, snuffing out the metallic glint of sunlight on the metal watchband.

“Not now, Broker. I need to see the way in, and out of the prison before I let you touch me.” Gray was a hot, angry wind at my back and then he was between us, blocking my view of the power-hungry broker. “You too, Gray. Back off. Now.”

He spun on me, his eyes already glowing gold with a feral light. "I will not tolerate him touching you."

"You will, or you will leave, Gray." I sighed and rubbed my temples, where an invisible vice was beginning to clamp down around my head. "This isn't some medieval bullshit where you own me, and I cower for you while you thump your chest."

Tryst coughed from behind the broad-shouldered wall of were-jaguar. “I think you’re mixing metaphors, Princess.”

“Oh, shut the…” Sherly gestured frantically from the healers’ tent where Penelope slept. “Something’s up. Can it, both of you, before you find out exactly what I’m capable of.”

Gray's frown deepened, but Tryst grinned and winked at me as I strode past him, falling into step with me. "I don't want you involved with the power broker, and I don't want you using this pack to test your magic." He growled at me. "You're making us both look weak. If you ask him to boost your magic, it will make us both look even weaker."

“Fuck you.” I stopped dead and gaped at him while I caught my breath. His accusations had slammed into me like a kick to my gut. “I’m trying to make them stronger. Not myself.”

“Then do it with your own pack.”

There it was. “I don’t have a pack, Grayson. I’m just fucking the alpha. According to rumor, I’m not even the only one,” I retorted.

“Of course you are.”

"But the pack doesn't think so, and you aren't exactly falling over yourself correcting them, are you?" He opened his mouth to argue, and I raised my fingers to his lips to stop him. "You make me look weak, to your pack, and to this one. If you can't handle my strength, then you need to find a nice, submissive shifter to show off to the folks."

“Don’t give me ultimatums, Morgan.”

I laughed as my fledgling headache sprouted wings and soared to new heights. “I make you stronger, Gray, not weaker. I’m just asking you to see me for who I am.” Sheryl flapped her hand at me again, and I broke into a trot heading toward her and whatever new spell the healers were about to attempt. I glanced back for Gray to follow, but all I saw was his back as he stormed off into the forest.

Fair enough, I thought as I ducked under the tent flaps, you came looking for me. I guess this time I get to come find you. I only hoped that when I did, my skip wasn't lying dead beside him. Orson had been clear. If he died, it had to be clean and incontestable. The head of another pack killing him, or any shifter would make it look to the humans like their gang-wars. No bounty for a dirty kill and Gray was not his usual diplomatic self lately.

“Is she awake?” I blurted the second I stepped inside.

“No, but it’s only lack of power. We almost got her out. Sheryl says if you run with the pack, you can make us strong enough. Is that true?” The grizzled man who asked wrinkled his nose in disbelief. One healer rolled her eyes behind his back and flashed me a wan smile of apology.

"I have called power to our pack, yes, but it was in a fight, not when healing. I suppose the power goes where you want it, once it's given to you," I sighed. "My magic is life magic." I twitched a finger, and a tiny shoot grew to a sapling between us, nearly hiding him from view. "Don't you think if we could share our power without one of us harming the other, we can do just about anything?"

“Can you raise my dead grandson?” He snapped. Shit.

“I don’t raise the dead, sir, though I am sorry for your loss.”

He huffed and pushed past me. “If you’re so sorry, catch the son of a bitch that tore out Alexi’s throat.” I turned, and he was glaring at me from the doorway. “Don’t ask us for anything until you have.”

He was gone, and I had my answer from the elders. “I’ve got to bring Gray back. We will catch Farley. We will do what we came to do, what we promised you.”

"Don't get yourself killed trying, child," a woman patted my hand, her skin was soft and fragile, age spots dotting the back of her hand. "And don't let my mate dishearten you. We're hurting, but I know you are too. You are young, trying to fix the whole world all at once. Pick a battle and focus on it, so you have a chance to win."

It was more wisdom than anyone had imparted to me in one statement before.

“I’ll go get Grayson and my team together.”

I looked around the campground, and Tryst pointed toward the woods. "He hasn't come back yet, but I don't think you should go after him."

“Because you think I’ll get hurt?”

"No, because I think you're both still mad enough that one of you will say something you both regret." My eyebrows shot up in surprise, and he scoffed. "I'm not the bad guy you seem so determined to see me as, Princess.

Even as he said it, his mouth turned up in a sexy sneer that heated things he had no right affecting. Tryst was Fae and an old one at that. I prayed I never forgot that for immortals, sometimes the line between good and bad was a little blurry.