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in New York. Their Alpha heir is engaged to her,” Lucas offers lazily.

“So if they have territory in New York, why are they here?”

Chase shrugs. “Because Chelsea’s Pack is here. Because we expanded and we have a reputation, because I’m the Shaman and stronger than most, or maybe because they’ve always planned this? Take your pick. Why doesn’t really matter—that they did does.”

“We’re strengthening the wards around our territory and the Pack house. If you want the same on your family homes, let Chase know and he’ll make that happen. We move in pairs, always. We stay safe. Cahil is gone right now, but he’ll come back, and if we’re threatening Chelsea’s cozy little life, she’ll lash out,” Tyler says seriously.

“You’re strong enough to stop her,” Jessica says, looking at Chase. “So why let it get to that?”

Chase shrug again. “I won’t kill Tyler and Lucas’s only living relative. And like it or not, I‘m bound to the Reid Alpha. I could kill her, but it won’t solve anything if we don’t know who’ll replace her.”

“And if it comes to a fight?”

Chase takes a deep breath. “If it comes to a fight, we fight. But none of you can kill the Cahil Alpha. Do you understand? If you do, you won’t belong to the Reid Pack.”

Chase wants to say, you won’t be mine.

Watching Lucas, he knows that he at least understands.

~*~

Lucas is sitting in his bedroom at his father’s home when Chase slips in, his expression shuttered.

“Kinda late,” Chase says, and Lucas shrugs. He’s watching the Shaman, and Chase busies himself for a moment, stripping off his flannel and emptying his pockets before he finally turns to the werewolf.

The thing is, Lucas spent years in a comatose state, years where Chase was growing up and taking care of him, telling him every secret he couldn’t tell anyone else. Lucas knows him, knows the devious working of his brain, and he knows damn well that Chase is planning something.

“Are you going to tell me?”

Chase shrugs. “There’s not a lot of options. I’m bound by blood and magic to the Reid Alpha, and there’s no way to transfer that bond without killing her. You know it and I do.”

“I could do it, before she comes here,” Lucas says, serious. He could. It wouldn’t be difficult. He’s killed witches and monsters. One spoiled arrogant Alpha would be nothing.

“She’s your sister, Lucas—the only family you have left beyond Tyler,” Chase says softly.

“You are my family,” Lucas snarls, “Aurora and the pups. Chelsea—”

“Chelsea ran because she was a hurt, scared child made Alpha far too soon,” Chase says, “She fucked up, Lucas, I know she did, but I still don’t want that blood on your hands. Not when there is so little of it left. Not even if they were all still here—you don’t need to live with killing your sister.”

Lucas stares at him. “Do you have a plan?”

Chase gives him a cocky smile. “Lucas, come on. It’s me.”

“I suppose you won’t tell me what it is.”

Chase shrugs. “Chelsea doesn’t want Harrisburg. So we make sure that the Cahils know that Harrisburg is more trouble than it’s worth.”

Lucas smiles then.

Chase’s gaze is cold and steady. “The Cahil Pack—them, you can kill.”

~*~

Chase secludes himself in the Pack house, kicks the pups and Tyler out while he works. Lucas stays, because while he hates when Chase bleeds and reeks of pain, he doesn’t protest. He just stays nearby, reading and researching, taking care of Chase when the Shaman forgets to eat or drink, bandaging his hand every time the boy slices it open to seal the wards.

The only time he makes a protesting noise, a tiny helpless growl rumbling out of him, is when Chase prepares the ink and blood and ash, when he readies the sharp silver needle and lines the metal tube up against his skin.

“You don’t have to stay,” Chase says.

“What do they do?”

Chase pauses. “Each ward will be buried in the ground of their homes and workplaces. They’ll repel anyone with ill intent, anyone supernatural that is not our Pack or ally.”Lucas nods, and Chase adds carefully, “And these—” He touches the small identical black disks of wood, streaked with blood and burns. “—will attack anyone who attacks those wearing it. Returns the damage, threefold.”

Lucas’s eyes glitter as he touches the bowl of spelled ink. “And the tattoos?”

“The wards won’t last unless I continue to renew them. The runes tie them to my spark and the power the Standing Stones gives me.”

Lucas’s eyes narrow. Chase stares at him, waiting.

He hasn’t told Tyler, and he won’t. The werewolf would burn the wards, let the Pack meet any and every threat with no advantage if he thought Chase could hurt himself protecting them.

“This is my job,” Chase says, watching Lucas. “I’m the Reid Shaman and shamans protect their Pack.”

Lucas nods and says, “Will it hurt the spell if I take your pain?”

Chase laughs a wobbly noise and shrugs. “I don’t know, and we’re not going to risk it.”

Lucas huffs, but nods again and settles across from Chase as he begins the long tattooing process.

~*~

Chase slips into Harper’s backyard. He’s known the man long enough that he isn’t surprised to find him in his garden, surrounded by foxglove, wolfsbane, and belladonna.

Harper looks just as unsurprised to see him.

“There’s a threat coming,” Chase says, “I’m binding myself to the Standing Stones.”

Harper straightens, hands braced on his knees. “You did that. You renew your bindings every year.”

“No—I’m doing the permanent binding. I—” He looks away and takes a breath.

“Chase, you know the cost,” Harper says gently.

He laughs and nods. “Yeah, Harper, I know. But I need to be able to protect my Pack from the Cahils and they’re coming. What do you suggest I do? Cede the land to them?”

Harper is watching him with that familiar look, a mix of distrust, pity, and the tiniest bit of awe, like he can’t quite fathom someone like Chase.

“I—-this is for you,” Chase says, thrusting the black disk at the druid.

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