My mother laughed and pulled back so she could see my face. “You’ll grow out of the impulsiveness, and you get the bullheadedness from me. No matter what your father says.” She shot an affectionate glance at him over my shoulder. “But I need to stay here.”

The way she eyed me intently, meaningfully—and the way she spoke her next sentence—sent a violent assault of chills up my spine. “Now, go say goodbye to your father.”

I nodded, still staring into her eyes. Trying not to understand the message she was sending. But it was all too clear.

The man with the gun would be the first and most obvious target. My mother was staying because there was a good chance that this might be my father’s last fight.

I blinked back tears, then turned to hug my father, acutely aware that this was unlike any other preassignment goodbye we’d ever shared. “Be careful,” I whispered, breathing in his scent—the leather, coffee, and aftershave I’d always associated with absolute safety and authority, even if I sometimes chafed under the yoke of them both.

“I was going to say the same thing to you.”

“If you guys make enough noise, we’ll be fine.” I sounded confident, though I was far from sure.

“Oh, we’ll make noise,” Jace promised, and I turned to hug him, too, holding him just a second longer than I should have. Then I went on to hug Michael, Vic, Parker, and Brian. I’d already said goodbye to Owen in his room, where frustration had gleamed like tears in his eyes. He hated missing the fight almost as much as I did. But he’d already struck his blow and given us our prisoner. And without Kai, we wouldn’t know enough to even think about fighting his Flight members.

So I’d kissed the cowboy goodbye and called him my hero. Then ordered him to stay in bed and recuperate.

“Faythe…” Marc began when I faced him, the last of my farewells. But he didn’t have to say any more. We’d said goodbye entirely too often in the past few months, and leaving him again was the last thing I wanted to do.

“Watch yourself.” I went up on my toes to kiss him and let the contact linger a bit longer than I normally would have in front of an audience. “And watch my dad.”

“You know I will.”

And I did know. Marc’s role in the upcoming melee was to protect his Alpha: the man with the gun. And in truth, that would probably be easier without me there for them both to worry about. No matter how far I progressed in my training, no matter how well I fought in either form, there was always someone trying to defend me. Thus putting himself and others in unnecessary danger.

“I’ll see you soon.” I squeezed him harder.

He smiled. “I’d bet my life on it.”

My father cleared his throat. “Everybody ready?”

“Where’s Manx?” I scanned the small crowd and saw her stepping out of Owen’s room. She flushed when she saw us watching, then her stride quickened and grew more confident.