“As I told you before, the strays won’t replace the ones you lost, but the loss of one doesn’t stop the need for another.”

Wise words. And really, deep down—underneath her fear of loss—she was tempted to work with the dogs and offer all the love she’d once had to give. Love they clearly needed. Love they’d probably never received.

Likelihood of Getting Bitten? A solid one hundred percent. One of the dogs had already tried to bite a person, his instinct to attack first and trust later—if ever. He needed guidance as much as food. New surroundings, with new people and smells, could be frightening, and frightened dogs acted out. Not all humans reacted with understanding, patience or even compassion.

“Fine,” she said on a sigh. “I’ll do it.”

Relief softened Baden’s expression. “We’ll have to muzzle—”

“No.” She shook her head, adamant. “No muzzles unless absolutely necessary.”

“Yes,” he insisted. “There’s no reason to risk a bite.”

“I’ll decide what I risk.”

“That isn’t how our relationship works,” he reminded her, as if speaking to a child. “I’m the general, and you’re the lowly soldier. I order, you comply.”

“For my safety, blah, blah, blah. Well, this lowly soldier is doing things her way. You can deal.”

“Thank you, thank you, a thousand times thank you!” A clapping Ashlyn jumped up and down. “The dogs are locked in one of the downstairs bedrooms. My children have named them Biscuit and Gravy.”

Children...she’d heard about the twins in her many wanderings, but she’d never actually seen them. “How old are your kids?”

Ashlyn beamed with pride. “Urban and Ever are eight mon—years,” she corrected as her happiness faded.

An odd reaction.

Whatever. Katarina had aided her dad as soon as she could walk. “They’re welcome to watch me work, but they have to do everything I say, when I say it.”

“How kind of you. I’ll let them know. Oh! And they’ve already been instructed not to hurt you, so you don’t need to worry.”

Eight-year-olds were a danger to her? Please.

Unless they were immortal?

Right. New world, new rules. She had to adjust.

She met Baden’s probing stare. “Are you coming with us?”

“No.” He rubbed the band hidden under his shirtsleeve. “I have a job of my own to do.”

What job? she almost asked. With him, it was probably best if she didn’t know. “Be careful.” The words slipped out, and though she wanted to take them back—too concerned, almost clingy—she didn’t.

He blinked in surprise. “I will. You, too.” A tension-laden pause stretched between them, and she couldn’t quite pinpoint its source.

Perhaps he couldn’t, either. He frowned and stalked from the room.

Ashlyn skipped over and linked their arms. “According to the other warriors, Baden used to be the nicest male on the planet, but death changed him. So have the wreaths he wears. He’s harder, colder. But I know for a fact he’ll never hurt you.”

Her heart suddenly felt like the drum at a rock concert. “What makes me an exception?”

“Oh, honey. The way Baden just looked at you...well, I’m sure you’ll learn the answer firsthand. And soon!”

9

“Looks like it’s fuck-this-shit-up o’clock.”

—Kaia the Wing Shredder,

Harpy from Clan Skyhawk

GILLIAN BRADSHAW—GILLY to her friends, though she despised the nickname more and more, wanting to prove herself an adult rather than a child—tossed and turned atop a soft mattress as a terrible fever ravaged her from the inside out. So much of the past few days had become a blur¸ but she thought she remembered Keeley giving her something cool to drink.

Happy eighteenth birthday, little one. This is going to make all your dreams come true...dreams you don’t even know you have. You’re so welcome.

Then, as Gillian screamed in pain, Keeley had said, I’m one hundred percent certain that I’m ninety-three percent certain that I gave you the correct dose. Hmmm. Your symptoms are...well, this doesn’t bode well. Maybe we’ll have to go with Plan B?

Gillian also thought she remembered William gathering her close later that day and carrying her...somewhere else. He must have. None of her friends had visited her to command she get well soon.

Warriors. Can’t live with them, don’t want to live without them.