Her pupils constricted.

“If you were really human, if there was any humanity left in you, then you would understand. They aren’t like us. They’ll never be like us.”

I wanted to tell her that there was no me and her, no us, but there was a part of me that didn’t want to know whether those words would smell like a lie.

A werewolf had killed my father, too.

I pushed down that thought. “If your coven is so convinced that werewolves are animals, then why would you make a deal with Shay?”

“Shay?” Caroline repeated.

“Lucas’s alpha.”

Either the words weren’t ringing a bell, or Caroline had an even better poker face than I’d given her credit for.

“Big guy, kind of looks like me?” Devon kept his tone casual, and my heart sank for him, for what it cost him to acknowledge any similarity to the brother he barely knew.

“Shay,” I said sharply, expounding so Devon didn’t have to. “The guy who gave Lucas to your coven? Sadistic, kind of smarmy? About yea tall?” I raised my hand over my head. “Probably asked you guys for something in exchange for loaning out his favorite punching bag?”

Caroline stopped looking at me like I was the enemy and started looking at me like I was insane. “No one gave us Lucas. We caught him. He doesn’t have a pack or an alpha. He’s on his own, and if he hasn’t killed yet, he would have eventually. Lone wolves always do.”

“Not always,” I countered, “and it’s a moot point, because Lucas isn’t a loner. Right after he showed up on our land, I got an email from his alpha, demanding him back.”

“This is the first we’ve heard about it,” Caroline said tersely.

“It’s the first you’ve heard about it,” I corrected. “But Lucas said Shay made some kind of deal with your mother, and whether or not the rest of the coven knows a thing about Shay, I can promise that he knows about you.”

Caroline didn’t reply. She just turned on her heel and left—but not before I caught sight of the darkness that spread across her eyes the moment I mentioned her mother.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

I CONCLUDED THREE THINGS BASED ON OUR INTERaction with Caroline.

One: she hadn’t exaggerated her skill with weapons. She’d taken a chunk out of Devon’s voluminous hair—from a hundred yards away. That wasn’t the kind of shot a normal person could make. That was military-sniper-level good—with a crossbow.

Two: whatever deal her mother had made with Shay, Caroline—and quite possibly the rest of the coven—had been left completely in the dark. She genuinely believed that they’d captured Lucas, and just talking about werewolves sent enmity surging through her veins, deadly and cool.

The third thing, I said out loud, since it was the one that might have passed Devon’s and Lake’s attention. “Caroline’s mother is the coven’s empath. She’s good with emotions, she’s the leader, and she’s the one who programmed them to go full throttle on the hatred scale anytime werewolves come up.”

It was probably also safe to conclude that the empath was the one who’d given Bridget a psychic push to feel a rush of fear when she thought about Caroline, and that made me wonder.

What kind of mother wanted people to be afraid of her own kid?

“So what now, oh fearless leader?” Devon ran a hand through what was left of his hair.

“Now we figure out a way to get close to the person pulling the strings.” I exhaled slowly and worked out the logic of our situation as I spoke. “If the rest of the coven wanted to take on an entire werewolf pack, their leader wouldn’t have to amp up their desire to fight. And that means that if we can get close enough to said leader to knock her out of commission, we might be able to reason with the rest of them—especially if we can convince them that Caroline’s mother made some kind of deal with Shay.”

I hadn’t been around any of the other psychics enough to judge, but I was positive that Caroline would take that news—once she believed it—about as well as I’d taken finding out that Callum had spent most of my life lying to me about what had happened to the werewolf who killed my parents.

I knew what that kind of betrayal felt like. For that matter, I knew what it was like to remember, every single day, the look and sound and feel of a monster tearing everything you loved to shreds.

Next time Caroline mentioned that a werewolf had killed her father, I was going to have to tell her to join the club.

“How, pray tell, are we going to get anywhere near Caroline’s mother?” Devon cocked one eyebrow heavenward, and Lake mimicked his quizzical expression.

“I doubt she’s going to throw out the welcome mat, Bryn. The whole coven hates werewolves, and if Caroline’s any indication, they don’t play all that well with other humans, either.”

I thought back to what Ali had said about the coven she’d grown up in: that they’d moved from town to town, never staying in one place long enough for the ordinary humans to grow suspicious. Ali had been the odd one out, and when she’d gotten old enough, they’d left her like trash on the side of the road.

The only way to get into a coven was to be psychic yourself, and I said as much out loud.

“Keely could do it,” Lake said, chewing on her bottom lip before continuing. “Assuming my dad would let her.”

I wasn’t a fan of that idea. Keely had already put herself on the line for us once, getting answers from Lucas. If Shay came to call, she might have to do it again. I couldn’t ask her to waltz right into the lion’s den, too—especially when there was another option.

“Keely’s not the only one with a knack.” I waited for my meaning to register with the two of them, sure that they wouldn’t like where this was headed. “I’m Resilient. Some of the psychics have even seen me go into Survival at All Costs mode. If all it takes to join a coven is to be human and have some kind of supernatural ability, then technically, I meet the qualifications.”

My words were met with deafening silence, followed by the unmistakable sound of growling inside my head.

I knew they wouldn’t like where this was headed.

“If the coven wanted me dead, they would have already made their move.” I tried to keep my voice calm and even, willing my friends to push down their instincts and hear the very human logic of what I was saying. “Instead, they’ve been playing with me: stalking my dreams, letting me feel the heat. Literally.”

Most alphas wanted two things: territory and the power to protect it. I had to wonder if it was that different for psychics. Something had compelled Caroline’s mother to make a deal with Shay, and whatever that something was, she’d chosen to keep it a secret.

Just like she’d chosen to let Caroline do her dirty work.

Just like she’d chosen to make the others fear what Caroline could do.

When I’d asked Sora what I could do to save Lucas, she’d told me that the only way to get a wolf away from an alpha who didn’t want to let go was to give the alpha something he wanted more. Maybe the same logic applied to the coven, only instead of wanting females or territory or the kinds of things that mattered to Weres, their leader might be after something different.

Me.

The larger the pack and the more powerful its members, the stronger that pack’s alpha became. Given that Caroline’s mother seemed to have a way of manipulating people into doing what she wanted them to do, I had to assume that she’d welcome the chance to bring a powerful Resilient into the fold, especially if the Resilient in question had an entire werewolf pack at her beck and call.

If the coven could control me, they’d get my entire pack as a bonus. I doubted Caroline’s mother would be able to ignore the potential for that kind of payoff. At the same time, though, I wasn’t sure if I could take that kind of chance. Putting myself in the line of fire was one thing, but betting the entire pack’s safety on my ability to shake off psychic holds was risky.

Unfortunately, the only option that wasn’t risky involved sentencing a boy who’d come to me for protection to death.

There has to be a way to go in myself but minimize the risk to the pack, I thought fiercely, willing it to be true.