The lights were on in the apartment, but the shades were drawn. Emma tended to be the vampire at home, drapes pulled tight, blocking out the sun. Jordan was the opposite. First thing in the morning, he opened every shade in the house, except the one in Emma’s room. At least he had that much of a sense of self preservation. She still had a habit of forgetting the shades were bound to be open when she went from her room to the bathroom in her underwear. Not that she minded, really. She was a shifter, and naked or mostly naked were just a part of life. The neighbors didn’t know that, though.

Emma turned off the ignition and gripped the steering wheel with two hands, drawing in a deep breath, trying to ground herself before she walked into whatever was waiting upstairs.

Jordan’s panic could be any number of things. The way Cheryl had broken off the wedding. The way it had been pegged on Emma. The fact that she had been ignoring him all day. She couldn’t think of many other things, but where Cheryl was concerned, it really could be anything.

The thing that bothered Emma the most about the current situation, aside from the refreshed feelings of unwarranted shame that came with being labeled a slut, was the fact that she seemed to be finding out everything secondhand.

Emma and Cheryl didn’t exactly get along, but Cheryl was still… her mother. The relation seemed suddenly foreign. When had Emma stopped thinking of Cheryl as Mama? The idea gave her pause. She hadn’t even realized it had changed in her mind.

The curtain twitched in the apartment, breaking off Emma’s train of thought. Right. Jordan. New, Cheryl-induced crisis. Sighing, Emma went upstairs.

She pulled her keys out of her pocket, but before she could unlock the door, it opened, and Jordan pulled her into a strong-armed hug. “Gods, Em. Where have you been?”

“Jordan, I can’t breathe,” Emma sputtered into his chest.

He pulled back, but kept his hands on her shoulders. “You’re okay?”

Emma dropped her purse on the hook by the door.

Jordan’s hand followed her as she moved, sliding down to the small of her back, like he was afraid of breaking contact.

What the hell was going on with him? He’d never been clingy before. “Perfectly fine. What the hell is going on with you? You’re a wreck.”

“You haven’t heard?”

Oh, great. Now what? “Obviously.”

“Fuck.” Jordan ran his free hand through his hair, exhaling a long breath.

Emma looked sideways at him, her chest twinging in anxiety at the expletive. “Jordan Baker! Now I know something’s wrong.” She separated herself from him and pointed to the couch. “Spill.” The twisted ball of anxiety hollowed to dread.

Jordan didn’t say anything. He sat down, propped his elbows on his knees, and buried his face in his hands.

“Jordan, what did she do?”

“Em… I… fuck.” He didn’t look at her. Didn’t raise his head.

What the hell was going on? How could Emma have possibly missed whatever had turned Jordan into this mess? It was so… not Jordan. Emma stopped pacing and sat down next to him, looping an arm through his and leaning her head onto his shoulder. “Jordan, would you just talk to me? Use your words.”

“Emma, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

“I can’t help with that if you don’t tell me what happened.”

Jordan gripped his fingers into his shaggy blonde hair, tugging it in fists of frustration. “She named me successor.”

Emma blinked. Once. Twice. Then as the words finally sank in, she shot off the couch, her shoulders bulking as Mal raged to the surface. “She did what?”

She should have seen this coming. Cheryl wanted someone she could control. And that was one thing Emma had proved over and over. She didn’t want to be controlled.

Her shirt tightened, threatening to rip under the expanding pressure of her grizzly fur and muscles. She growled, a low, long, dangerous sound and the fur along her shoulders stood on end.

Jordan stood, hands in front of himself, his own bear coming forward, not in offense, but in mediation. “Emma, we have downstairs neighbors.”

“I don’t give a fuck about the neighbors.” It was taking all she had to not bear-out completely, and even so, her nails were lengthening, sharpening. That fucking woman. Of all the things—Emma couldn’t think straight. Thoughts whirled around in her brain like bullets, ricocheting off one another.

Jordan took a step forward, hands still raised. “Em. You need to calm down.”

She snarled in his direction.

Mal rode her anger, and together, they were one giant ball of inconsolable rage. She needed to break something. Bite something. Scream, snarl, growl at the top of her lungs.

Jordan reached towards her.

She nearly took his hand off.

“Use your head, Emma. Dammit, we don’t need the Sisterhood involved because you can’t keep yourself under control.”

Emma looked at him, shoulders taught, neck aching from the tension in her stance. She closed her eyes. Pushed Mal back, not all the way, but enough that he wasn’t bursting from her.

She deflated. Jordan was right.

But, that fucking woman.

Stitches on her shirt popped under her left ear. Calm. She needed to be calm.

Jordan stepped forward again, closing the gap between them and gripping her forearms with bear strength.

Emma opened her eyes into his and started counting.

One. Breathe.

Two. Breathe.

She could see the fear in his eyes, floating just behind the amber glow of his bear’s eyes. She was freaking out, sure. But, she wasn’t the only one.

Three. Breathe.

Releasing an exaggerated breath, Emma let the tension flow out of her, raising her arms to mirror Jordan’s grip. Their foreheads fell together, and their breaths synced.

In. Out.

In. Out.

Mal trembled, and then faded back, and the pressure beneath Emma’s skin lessened. He wouldn’t come out. He knew the rules as well as she did.

“Sorry,” she whispered.

“No harm, no foul.”

Emma pulled away and retreated to the couch. “Okay. Now, tell me everything.”

Jordan sighed, but joined her. He was trying to keep it together, Emma knew. For her, if for nothing else. What was Cheryl thinking, making him her successor?

“She called a meeting while you were at the school. Only the majors, except for me. You should have been there, but she wouldn’t wait. I don’t think she wanted to.” Jordan raked his hands through his hair again, and several strands flipped back down onto his forehead in rebellion.

“Cheryl knew I couldn’t be. She probably planned it that way.” Emma’s voice came across sharper than she intended, her anger still simmering within arm’s reach.

“She’d already announced the wedding being called off. Late last night.”

Emma’s gut twisted.

Jordan stared at the floor, his voice barely audible. “She said you’d cheated on me. Disgraced her as a mother. Me as her…” He trailed off, and Emma thought she could see his hands trembling. “As her son.”

“But you aren’t her son. Brett and Joe are her sons.” And she’d tried to kill one and banished the other.

“You don’t have to tell me, Emma. But dammit, she raised me.”

Emma settled for a nod, not trusting herself to say anything else.

“Anyway, that was last night. I didn’t hear until this morning after it started spreading around.”

“Frank and Evan knew. Evan called me a slut at the field day,” she said through clenched teeth. It shouldn’t piss her off so much, but it did. They were supposed to look up to her, but, how could they?

Jordan nodded. “Then this morning, at the meeting, I fucked up, Em. I was there, ready to defend your honor, call her bullshit. Before I could do anything, she dropped this on me. In front of everybody. I couldn’t—” He shook his head. “I froze. And then, she forced her will on me.”

Which was what an alpha could do, and what made Emma an alpha. It wasn’t strength. It was the ability to force her will on others, which wasn’t something she did on a whim.

“I had no choice. She didn’t give me one. I tried to explain that you hadn’t cheated on me, that we had decided together that we weren’t getting married. No one would listen.”

“That bitch.” Emma clenched her hands into fists, nails digging into her skin.

“I don’t think anyone expected it.” Jordan risked a glance at her and quickly looked away.

Emma should have. “Fucking. Traitorous. Bitch.”

“But, apparently, she did it because a new bear clan has moved into town. She says we have to appear strong.”

“By claiming a successor without the alpha will.” Emma growled low in her throat. “That’s some strength.”

Jordan clawed his hands in frustration. “What do we do?”

She stood up. Well, this made things easier. Didn’t it? She’d wanted freedom and Cheryl had proven she could toss any of her children away. She needed to appear strong by alienating her own children? Fine. “I’m packing my things.”

“What?” Jordan grabbed her arm, trying to pull her back down.

She shrugged him off. “I’m going to pack my things, and then you’re not going to worry about me.”

“You can’t move out. This is our place.” The burning edge of fury crept on the outskirts of his face.

Good. He was going to need that if he was going to be Cheryl’s successor without an alpha’s will. “What did you expect? We were living together because we were—” She air-quoted with one hand. “—dating. If Cheryl’s made you her successor, she won’t allow me to stay here. And I shouldn’t, anyway. Not with things the way they are.”

“I don’t care. You’re my best friend. There is no reason we can’t live together.”

Emma shook her head. Their living situation hadn’t even crossed her mind as they’d planned this. But now it was clear. It was stupid of her to not have seen it. Planned for it. Nobody was going to care that she and Jordan were friends. She was the slut, and she wouldn’t let that tarnish Jordan’s reputation with the clan. Especially not now.

Because Emma did care about the people in her clan. Another bear clan moving into town was serious. It could mean a lot of things.

Mostly, it meant that the newcomer might challenge Cheryl.

Or her successor.

The rage in Emma’s chest erased any will to care.

“Look.” Emma took in a steadying breath, reminding herself she wasn’t mad at Jordan, but at Cheryl. Jordan didn’t deserve to die or to be mauled by another alpha, a real one. “Be careful. If we’re challenged, don’t let Cheryl put you in the fight.”

Jordan’s jaw ticked. “I can stand up in a fight.”

“Not with an alpha, you can’t.”

He balled his hands into fists, and then shook them out. “You don’t have to do this alone, you know.”

“I do. It’s always been me. I was the only Elliot born with an alpha soul.”

Jordan jerked like he had been slapped.

Emma cringed, but reached for his arm. “You didn’t ask for this. Cheryl is using you to get to me.”

“Right.” He pulled his hand away. “I’m just the bastard child nobody wanted who doesn’t have a claim to the throne.”

Emma froze. Had she heard him correctly? Claim to the throne? She hadn’t even considered… could he really want to be alpha? Not possible.

“Jordan?” Emma tried to pace her scrambling thoughts. He just said he didn’t have a choice, didn’t he?

He grimaced. “I didn’t ask for this. But think about it, Emma.” His brow furrowed, trying to figure out what to say. Then the words tumbled out in a rush. “If she’s naming a successor, maybe she’s planning on stepping down. Then, if I am alpha, I can clear you and let Joe back into the clan. I can fix things.”

“That isn’t how it would work, and you know it.” She shook her head in disbelief. What was Cheryl thinking? “Cheryl won’t step down. You’re her insurance policy.”

“What if we go to Chuck?”

“He won’t interfere. Nothing’s happened to give him cause to step in. This is all just clan politics.”

“I’m not so sure.”

“You don’t understand.”

“I might not be an Elliot by name, Emma. But dammit, I’ve spent the last fifteen years as one of you. I understand just fine.” He crossed his arms. “Let me challenge her.”

Emma threw her hands to her side. “You can’t.” For a thousand different reasons. And one. He wasn’t strong enough. It would destroy him.

A thought struck Emma like a bolt of lightning. Was she strong enough? She suddenly wasn’t so sure. She could bluster and rage and growl all she wanted, but when it came down to it, would she be able to make the difficult choices? Did she have it in her? What made her so sure it was supposed to be her to make the challenge?

Emma knuckled her temples, a slow ache building beneath them. It wouldn’t work. His plan wouldn’t work. She couldn’t let him do it, even if he wanted to. It wasn’t his place. Why the hell had Cheryl dragged Jordan into this?

To get to Emma. It was the only answer. It had to be.

Emma looked up.

Jordan watched her, hair standing in a thousand directions from the amount of times he’d mussed it with his hands. His arms were crossed, and she could see the inkling of fur along his bare shoulders. Jordan was ready to fight her on this. Bear and all.

And to what purpose? They were on the same damned side.

“I’m going to grab a few things and go to Joe’s for the night. I can get the rest of my things this weekend.” Emma tried to keep the emotion out of her voice, afraid it would tremble, give her away. Clue him in to her sudden doubts. “We’ll figure this out, okay?”

Jordan nodded curtly, not uncrossing his arms.

“I just need some time to think.” Emma waved her hands helplessly. This was such a mess. Maybe that had been Cheryl’s plan. Put her and Jordan at odds. Break apart the dream team.

Seriously, Jordan as alpha?

Emma pulled out her phone and shot off a quick message to Joe. He immediately tried to call her back, but she ignored him. It hadn’t occurred to her that he might not be in the loop yet. She couldn’t have imagined it wasn’t being talked about at the Fox Hole. Granted, in typical Joe fashion, he probably hadn’t noticed. She supposed getting kicked out of the clan had some benefits.

It took Emma five minutes to grab what she needed. While she worked, Jordan continued to stand in the middle of the living room, shoulders bulked up and ridged with fur, amber eyes on fire. He didn’t try and stop her, but he didn’t help either. He just watched her, moving from one room of the apartment to another.

When she’d filled her backpack with a change of clothes and toiletries, chargers and miscellaneous crap that seemed important in the moment, she put a hand on the door knob and turned to look at Jordan.

There was a tension in the air between them that she had never experienced before with him. An… awkwardness. Like they didn’t know how to be in the same room together. Which was insane, because they’d been living together for three years.

Emma hated it. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “Okay. I guess.”

“Okay.”

Emma frowned. Dammit. What had gotten into him? “We’ll talk tomorrow. I promise.”

Jordan turned away.

Why didn’t this feel like it was going to be okay?