“I’m fine. It’s a shallow cut. Once it heals, the scar will be thin.”

“The bastard did it on purpose,” Marc repeated, and my father made no comment about his use of profanity in front of an Alpha; there was no question it fit.

The chair creaked, and paper shuffled on my dad’s desk. “What is Dean doing in Appalachian territory?”

“Enforcing for Malone.” I seized the opportunity to change the subject. “And he’s not the only one. Malone’s been on a hiring binge, and I didn’t recognize most of the faces.” Which meant they either came from territories I’d had little contact with, or he was seriously recruiting from north of the border, in areas with little distinguishable accent. But, based on their scents, none were strays.

“Well, I wish I could say that was unexpected, but honestly, it’s the most predictable move he’s made so far.”

Jace took a deep breath. “Dean’s gonna be a problem, Greg.”

I whirled on him, begging him with my eyes to keep his mouth shut. But he wouldn’t meet my gaze. Nor would he keep something he considered important from his Alpha. At least, something that didn’t involve him sleeping with the Alpha’s daughter.

“How so?”

Jace sighed and forged ahead, staring at his hands in his lap. “He went home from Montana disgraced. His dad kicked him out and told the Canadian council he’d been exposed as a coward. That a tabby beat him up and caught him in a lie. Dean blames Faythe for the whole thing. He cut her where it would show to humiliate her.” He sucked in another breath and continued, while I ground my teeth at the memory. “When he recovers, he’ll be gunning for her. Even more than he already was.”

“Why didn’t you kill him?” My father was clearly talking to Marc and Jace.

Both of them looked to me for a response, and I rolled my eyes. “I wouldn’t let them. After he got a taste of his own knife, he was no threat to anyone.” Physically, anyway. His mouth had done plenty of damage.…

“His very existence is a threat to yours,” my father insisted. I closed my eyes and let my head fall against the headrest. Was I being scolded for not killing someone? “Faythe, being a leader means making tough decisions. Often. You may think you can take Dean again, if it comes to that, and you may be right. But if you’re not…it would be devastating for the entire Pride. Not to mention you personally.”

We are not having this conversation.…

“Sometimes one person has to die to preserve the greater good.”

I opened my eyes just to roll them again, having reached the end of my patience. “You think I don’t know that? It was my decision to turn Lance Pierce over to be executed. I’m very familiar with the concept of ‘greater good,’ thanks.”

“Good. If you’re in a situation like that again, I expect you to eliminate the threat. Or at least let one of the guys do it.”

“That won’t be necessary.” My teeth ground together so loudly I was sure he could hear it. “I can eliminate my own threats.”

My father exhaled slowly. “Faythe…it is self-defense, because he will hurt you if he gets the chance.”

“He already has. But I hurt him back.”

“I know,” he said, and I could practically hear the smile in his voice. My father was satisfied that I would do as I was told. And I would. But the matter sat on my conscience like a stone at the bottom of a river.

“Call me when you get close to the nest.”

“Okay.” I raised my hand to stifle a yawn.

My dad sighed. “Boys, make sure she gets some sleep.”

“No problem,” Marc said, though he was at least as tired as I was. Maybe more.

Half an hour later, Lance woke up, his consciousness heralded by a series of angry grunts and kicks against the side of the van. Jace raised a single brow in grim amusement, then leaned over the back of his seat to peer into the cargo hold. “Hey.”

I twisted in my seat to watch, and Marc kept glancing in the rearview mirror until I smacked his shoulder and pointed out the windshield. He was dangerous enough with his eyes on the road.

Jace glanced at me and I shrugged, so he leaned over Lance, then came up a moment later with a strip of duct tape.

“Where am I?” Lance demanded. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Balancing the scales of justice,” Jace said, his usual grin conspicuously absent.

“What does that mean?”

I closed my eyes, steeling myself, then unbuckled and climbed onto the backseat, where I leaned over next to Jace, trying to keep the left side of my face angled away from our prisoner. “Hey, Lance.”

“Faythe?” He clearly didn’t remember my awesome countertop-assisted kick to his skull.

“Yeah. Listen, I’m just gonna get right to the point.” Because I had to be sure. I was perfectly willing to hand him over to the thunderbirds to save Kaci’s life, but I needed to know that he was actually guilty, for my own peace of mind. Though, peace hardly seemed possible, after the week we’d had. “Parker’s worried about you. Brett told us you were the one who killed the thunderbird, and Parker’s afraid that if the truth comes out, Malone will throw you under the wheels of the political machine to save himself. So we’re here on behalf of my dad, to offer you sanctuary.”

“Sanctuary? You’re serious?” His brows furrowed in skepticism.