There was nothing like getting woken up from a deep sleep by a handsome, shirtless man with rumpled bed head and some five o’clock shadow and a terribly attractive scowl. It didn’t even matter that he was a total asshole. He looked just sleepy enough for me to almost forget the way he’d spoken to me and everyone else. Although it was pretty awesome to see him chug a shitload of herby soup that Mercy had distilled.

But I was in no way prepared for him changing his shape. It was like the time I went to a traveling exhibit at the museum and they had an installment of seeing-inside-bodies that had cross-sections of a cow. There were brief flashes of pink muscle and red blood and yellow-white bone, and all of it mixed together and inside out until a giant wolf stood on the bed instead of a man.

My stomach unbalanced and I struggled to not barf all over myself and his room, and it didn’t help that he almost immediately changed back. The room tilted around me and I went cold and sweaty all over as adrenaline surged. I saw his lips moving but almost didn’t hear him over the rushing noise in my ears. Holy shit. He just—turned inside out. And then right-side out again.

He said something about the rooms across the hall, so I bolted. As unnerving as it was to watch him peel off his skin, it was almost worse to confront one of the finest asses I’d ever seen in real life or in movies. And he had one of those muscular backs and set of shoulders that meant he could probably bench-press a Buick, all of it flexed in irritation and decorated with some interesting tattoos.

I fled to save my dignity and my stomach, and tripped over someone sprawled across the threshold of the door before I’d gotten three steps into the living room. Henry sat up immediately, blinking and snorting. “Wha?”

The darkness of the living room hid how many pack members still waited for their alpha’s recovery, but the cacophony of snores revealed it was definitely at least three and possibly more, not counting Henry. I patted Henry’s head and picked my way more carefully toward one of the undisturbed guest rooms we’d searched earlier in the day. “It’s fine. He’s fine. I’m going to sleep in the room with the blue bedspread.”

“Oh. Cool.” Henry collapsed back against the floor and immediately started snoring in near harmony with the others. I rolled my eyes and tiptoed to the guest room.

I took a little more time to explore when I could finally turn on the light and confirm that none of the pack had taken over the room. No one else had claimed the bed, although it seemed strange that they’d rather sleep on the floor of the living room rather than in a bed. Those shifters were very strange creatures. It felt like I stormed into a minefield of etiquette faux pas without knowing they were even there, much less how to find them. I dragged myself into the bathroom after I discovered the dresser drawers were filled with spare clothes, much like the guest quarters I’d been in before.

I tried not to think about being away from Cricket for a second night. Maybe I could find a phone or a computer or something, so I could call Estelle and at least ask her to feed the cat while I was away. She’d have all kinds of questions about where I was and why I hadn’t planned for someone to look after the house and cat, and then I’d probably get a lecture about responsibility and all that jazz.

A hot shower helped clear my head and relaxed some of the tension out of my shoulders. At least the hot water didn’t run out after thirteen minutes, like at my house. There was plenty of name-brand shampoo and body wash and even those natural loofahs they only sold in fancy-ass boutique stores. Which just added to the mystery. Why did Evershaw have such a fully-stocked guest room if he never had any guests? Surely it would have made more sense to only add the toiletries when he knew there would be someone staying there.

I chalked it up to those weird shifter rules, and instead just enjoyed the plush towels and what seemed to be a heated floor. Who even did that? Only movie stars had heated floors. A pack of wolves in a converted warehouse definitely didn’t have heated floors, much less heated floors in a random guest room that no one had ever touched. Such a weird place. Such a weird guy.

At least the guest room was silent and still, and the rest of the tension in my muscles dissipated slowly as I padded around in a fresh pair of socks. A giant T-shirt made a fantastic nightshirt over a slightly too-large pair of yoga pants from the back of the bottom drawer, and I dragged another blanket out of the closet so I could throw it over the bedspread. Maybe it was a thing with the shifters, but everywhere was cold. I even wrapped my wet hair back up in a dry towel so I wouldn’t spend the whole night freezing.

And then, of course, I couldn’t sleep. I paced and wandered around, counting my steps, and finally just stared at the ceiling and hoped exhaustion would take over. It didn’t. The hours ticked by in a steady crawl that set my teeth on edge, but not even meditation helped silence the thoughts racing through my mind.

I had to save Evershaw to save myself, because it was clear that whoever wanted him dead really wanted him dead. They used belladonna the first time, and when that wasn’t enough, they added the rattlesnake venom in some manner. I still hadn’t figured out how they’d managed that. He hadn’t been bitten, clearly, and yet they still got a neurotoxin in him. All through the car. I rubbed my temples and squeezed my eyes shut as I exhaled and searched for inspiration. If I wanted to kill Evershaw, how would I do it?

The thought made me snort and shake my head like a loon in the darkness. I’d hex his ass and have done with it. Why mess around with poison? Whoever it was didn’t feel strong enough or brave enough to confront him head-on, so they resorted to one of the quieter means of disposing of an enemy. It didn’t seem like it would be one of the other groups of shifters, then, since they’d all been very upfront and in-your-face in every interaction I’d witnessed.

Maybe there were a bunch of foxes or opossums or other creeping creatures who preferred to work in the night. Or maybe they weren’t shifters. There were certainly witches in the city, and the ErlKing, and potentially other magical or supernatural beasts. I’d seen one of them when I went to Smith’s house to free him, as there was a woman who wasn’t actually a woman standing with one of the male shifters. She definitely wasn’t a witch but she wasn’t an animal; I hadn’t figured out what she was, mostly because it wasn’t my business unless she decided to tell me herself.

That was one of the first rules of magic—if it wasn’t your business, never make it your business unless you also want all the possible trouble along with it.

Perhaps the poisoner had some other talents. They’d said a djinn helped imprison Smith in the Betwixt, and I’d caught just a whiff of the djinn as I freed Smith and the other man along with him, as the djinn left his fingerprints on the human. But I’d neither seen nor heard a whisper of the djinn since then. And poison didn’t seem that much like a djinn, from what I’d read after learning the one intended to stay in the city.

I groaned and covered my face. I needed to sleep. I’d expended so much energy keeping Evershaw from dying that I should have fallen right into dreams, but instead, I couldn’t stop thinking about that insufferable man and his exceptionally fine body. Who’d kidnapped me and held me hostage.

I pulled the pillow over my face and refused to think about him. As soon as they figured out who was trying to kill him, Evershaw would release me and I’d go back to my life, just as he’d go back to his. My normal life. The thought gave me pause. As annoying as the last two days had been, I’d found plenty of things to be jealous of in the pack. They all cared for each other, even as mismatched as they all seemed to be. And everyone had been willing to do whatever it took to save their alpha, even when that meant capturing me as I hexed the shit out of everyone I could reach. They’d done it without hesitation.

There was something to be said for the loyalty of a pack. It certainly didn’t translate to the way a coven worked.

The window drapes began to lighten as the sun rose, and I was no closer to sleep than I’d been when I first lay down. I threw the covers back and got up, since there wasn’t much use lying about when I wouldn’t get any rest. Instead I went to the window and peered out at the city just as the sun broke the horizon far away in the east and sent beams and tendrils of light through the various buildings. It had been a long time since I watched the sunrise without having something to do immediately in the morning, whether it was preparing for a spell or trekking into the greenhouse to start preparing arrangements. To not have a schedule and a to-do list was very disorienting.

The exhaustion and uncertainty caught up with me and I sank onto the small bench that sat next to the window. I covered my face with my hands and concentrated on breathing and not crying. I didn’t want to cry. I hated crying. There wasn’t any reason to cry.

But my throat closed and my chin started to wobble, and my sinuses started to burn. I squeezed my eyes shut. No. I couldn’t afford to lose control and expose any weaknesses; the wolves would no doubt sense it immediately and use it against me. Evershaw would, at least. But even controlling my breathing couldn’t eliminate the moisture that blurred my vision, and I punched my thigh to try and keep it together. I really couldn’t afford to feel sorry for myself or sob. It was bad enough I’d slipped the night before and given in to the pain and misery.

At least one person stirred in the living room, and the sounds of a house waking up intruded on the reassuring stillness around me. Someone shouted, others answered, then more shouting. Someone wasn’t happy—which probably meant Evershaw was awake.

I refused to reappear in the main room just because the alpha was awake. He was alive and that was all because I drained myself to save him. I could hide in that room for as long as I wanted.

I hugged my knees to my chest and tried to give myself a pep talk. I would survive all of this. I would survive and come out stronger on the other end. It was nowhere near as awful as after I lost my mother, and I’d managed to keep moving through that. Every day we made the choice to get out of bed and put our clothes on and keep on with the business of life. This too would pass.

It had to.

More yelling beyond the door, then footsteps stomped closer and I made out a muffled, “Witch!” from the other side.

Definitely Evershaw. I didn’t budge, because my face was probably still red and blotchy and my mouth still trembled with the possibility of tears. I couldn’t confront him. I just didn’t have the energy to resurrect my ice-queen shields. I still dredged up some of my mantra and reminded myself whose daughter I was.

But before I could get myself completely together, the door burst open and Evershaw stood there in the doorway, his face a thundercloud. Of course, I couldn’t see his face because he was still completely naked.

Completely, totally naked. Standing there in the doorway. Scowling at me as he waited for a response to a question I hadn’t heard. My brain short-circuited and I could only stare at him, every thought completely gone from my head.