The unconscious woman lay still in the guest room, her breathing shallow, her face pale. Lori sat beside her, her hand resting gently on the woman's wrist, monitoring her pulse. It was faint but steady—a fragile thread of life that Lori was determined to protect.
"She's fighting," Lori murmured, more to herself than to anyone else. "Her wolf is still there, barely. But she's fighting."
Attia stood in the doorway, his expression grim. He had just finished telling Lori about the trespassers—the four young wolves who had demanded the woman's return.
"They're not going to give up," he said quietly. "They looked like they would return. And when they do, they won't be alone."
Lori's hand tightened on the woman's wrist.
"What could she have done to deserve this?" she asked, her voice trembli
