There were shifters everywhere—albeit not blocking traffic this time. On the sidewalk, in the open garage, in the Pack’s business area. I went directly to the inner rooms, avoiding the bar, and knocked on the door.

Connor’s uncle Eli opened it, looking down at me from height. He took in the leather, nodded approvingly, then moved aside to let me in.

Connor’s dad sat at the worn table, an infant on his lap. A niece, I thought, and probably the daughter of Fallon, the only Keene sister, and Jeff Christopher, a former Ombud and Fallon’s husband. She’d given up her spot in the line of succession for Jeff, who was a Pack shifter but a different animal. And given the way they beamed at each other and their daughter, they both looked excessively happy about their situation.

Connor stood in front of the table in jeans and a Pack T-shirt. His expression was steady, and his gaze was on me.

I gave him the slightest nod, wished I understood what was about to happen.

“Since we’re all here,” Gabriel said, lifting his gaze to me with a smile, “I think we’d better get started.” He rose, handed the baby back to Fallon, gave the tiny girl a final kiss on the forehead. “They’re assembled?” he asked no one in particular.

From the volume of magic, I assumed “they” was the Pack, possibly including the interlopers. If they hadn’t already been kicked out of the city.

“They’re in the bar,” Eli confirmed.

Gabriel looked at Connor. “You need a minute?”

Connor nodded. At Gabriel’s gesture, all the shifters filed out. Some going through the door that led to the bar, others through one that led farther into the family’s area. Fallon handed Jeff the baby, and she went into the bar. Jeff gave me a wink across the room and took the baby into the back.

And then we were alone.

Connor strode toward me, every movement confident, relaxed.

“Hey,” he said, looking down, that curl of dark hair over his forehead.

“Hey,” I said, and brushed it back. “Everything okay?”

“It is.” He looked toward the door. “Or will be.”

“And are you going to tell me what’s about to happen?”

His grin widened. “I’m not yet sure what’s going to happen.”

But I saw the spark in his eye—and the hunger.

I put a hand on his face, rubbed a thumb across his lips, then leaned up and kissed him, nipping at his lip. “Go kick his ass.”

He brushed his fingers against mine. “We fight for each other,” he whispered, and walked into the bar.

Connor joined his family at the front. I took a spot with Alexei and Dan on the side.

“Any predictions?” I asked.

“Not a lick,” Alexei said, and squeezed my hand. “But it should be entertaining.”

The interlopers were at the back of the room, standing shoulder to shoulder. Joe had no expression. Breonna’s bravado was fading, and she looked slightly sick. Cade looked defiant.