and a time to dance, a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them, a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing…”
~ Human Bible, the Word of the Creator of humankind.
Dalton stood outside the Colorado pack mansion with his mate at his side. It seemed like it had been forever since he’d been here, and the place almost didn’t feel like home anymore. But it was. Since Lee had died, Dalton was now the beta of his pack. And he knew with everything that was happening, he had to step up and be there for Dillon, just as his alpha had been there for him. He could feel some tension through the pack bonds. It had been so long since he’d really focused on his pack it was odd to feel their presence again so strongly. Mostly, he felt Dillion’s power because the alpha was tied directly to his wolves, and now that Dalton was beta, his connection to Dillon had become stronger. Something was definitely wrong, but he couldn’t just go barreling into the house, heedless of the consequences, to find out. He had to consider that his mate was about to walk into a new, unfamiliar pack, and she was still dealing with the emotional consequences of Volcan’s mind games. She wasn’t fragile. He would never mistake her for that, but she was at a crossroads. She was going to have to decide if she were going to climb the mountain that would lead out of the valley of darkness she’d been walking through or stay in the pit where she was.
“You don’t have to be nervous,” he said to Jewel. He could feel her anxiety coming through the bond loud and clear.
“Did you know that the body's response to anxiety is called ‘fight or flight’? Your body releases a surge of neurochemicals to provide the physical resources to fight for one’s own life or flee to safety.” She rubbed her palms up and down her thighs as though they were sweaty.
Dalton reached over and took one of her hands and laced their fingers together. “So what’s your response to your anxiety? Are you about to fight our pack, or are you heading for the hills?”
She looked up at him, a small smile on her lips. “As if I could fight a den of wolves.”
He shrugged. “Your magic is unique, and you’re a healer. No one in any pack worth their hide would ever hurt a healer, so you could probably kick their butts without breaking a sweat.”
She laughed, and he felt her relax a little. “Why are you so tense?” she asked. Now that she wasn’t so focused on her own fear, she could obviously feel him through the bond.
“Something’s wrong,” he told her. “And it’s serious. I can sense Dillon’s stress.”
She started walking forward and pulled him along. “Then we need to get in there.”
Dalton frowned. “What happened to fight or flight?”
“Fight won out. Who knows what’s going on? There may indeed be a fight ahead of us. And this is a new neuro-response. It’s called ‘when our pack needs help, we get our butts in gear and help,’” she said, her voice full of determination. This was the Jewel who had faced down an evil fae hell-bent on turning her into a vile witch, who had tortured her and put her through pure hell for months. Jewel had come out intact, whole on the other side. Bruised and battered, but whole.
When they reached the front door, Dalton pushed it open without knocking. He could hear tension-filled voices and growls. He followed the noise until he was in the large den of the pack home.
The first thing he noticed was Dillon. He had both hands braced on the back of the large couch, and his head was bowed. Dalton could tell by the alpha’s tense body that his leader was holding it together by a thread. When he looked around the room, Dalton saw Aidan, now third of their pack since Phillip had died, and the man appeared resigned, his jaw tight and his arms folded across his chest. The third gave a head nod to Dalton but didn’t say anything. Dalton continued to survey the den. He saw Fane, the Romania alpha’s son. The young man was kneeling on the floor, and Decebel, the Romania pack beta, knelt next to him, his arm across Fane’s shoulders. Decebel held the younger male tightly against his body and spoke in a low