I found no sign of my coat, but Robyn’s white down jacket was hanging over her desk chair. Perfect. “Hey, can I borrow that?”
“Sure.” But she clearly had no idea what I was borrowing, because she was still staring at Jace. Not that I could blame her. I’d had years to practice not-drooling over him, yet I was still tempted to stare.
“Be back in a sec,” I said on my way out the door, but Robyn never even glanced away from the window.
I flew down two flights of stairs and through the common room, and a burst of cold air hit me when I threw the door open. Shivering, I ran across the grass toward the parking lot in my boots, suddenly wishing I’d chosen lower heels. And pants.
Jace turned when he heard me coming, and a little thrill of satisfaction warmed me from the inside when his scruffy jaw actually dropped a little. But then he spoke, and that warmth died. “What happened to the rest of your skirt?”
“I left it in the nineteenth century.”
His blue eyes flashed in amusement, and I caught my breath. “Okay then, where’s your suitcase?”
I had to look up at him, even in my highest heels. “Um, I’m going to stay here with Robyn this time. It’s only for a month, and ours is the dorm they have to leave open for international students.” Though I hadn’t met a soul, other than Robyn, who was planning to stay.
Jace’s smile faded and the Alpha peeked from behind bright blue eyes and full lips I’d known my entire life. “You want to stay on campus alone? During the holidays?”
“No, I want to stay with Robyn. I was gonna call you, but...”
“But you forgot how your phone works. Right? That’s why you never answer it?”
“I was busy with finals. I was going to check in tonight, I swear. Jace—”
“The council’s called an emergency meeting at the ranch.” The Lazy S, of course, which was still the council headquarters, even after the death of the previous council head. Mostly because the Texas ranch had more room than the other territorial capitals. “Our flight leaves in three hours.”
“I’m not on the council,” I pointed out in as rational a tone as I could summon. “Ergo, I’m not needed at the ranch.”
“Your dad’s already there and he wants to take you home for the holidays.”
“Well, I’m an adult and I belong to your Pride, so he doesn’t have the authority to order me home.” Even if he was the head of the council, a position formerly held by his brother-in-law, my late uncle Greg Sanders.
Jace’s frowned, and I resisted the urge to give in just so I could see him smile again. “Your father’s not ordering; he’s requesting. Nicely.”
“Well, I’m declining.” I crossed my arms over my chest to hold Robyn’s jacket closed. Also to illustrate my determination. “Nicely.”
“Fine. Then I’m ordering you to go upstairs and throw whatever you need into a bag. Now.”
“Why? Are you scared to stand up to my dad?” I knew I’d stepped over the line when a growl rumbled from his throat and my head tried to bow. Because my Alpha was angry and my inner cat knew that was my fault.
Jace had grown into his position quickly, and as the youngest male Alpha in the world, he was also among the strongest. His leadership had been challenged three times in the four and a half years since he’d taken over the Appalachian Territory, and none of the challengers had come close to beating him. There were only a handful of werecats in the world who could hold their own with him one-on-one, and I was not among those. Nor did I want to be.
He mirrored my stance with his arms crossed over his broad chest, and I could hear the warning before he even spoke. “Abigail Wade, if you’re not in the car in ten minutes, I’ll…”
“You’ll what? Drag me out by my hair? Wouldn’t be a first for me.”
That was a low blow and I had no right to aim it at him, but the moment the words left my mouth, his anger crumpled beneath the weight of something much worse.
Sympathy.
I found pity and awkward compassion everywhere I turned in the werecat world, because all my fellow shifters could think about when they looked at me was what had happened to me the summer I turned seventeen, and how damaged I must be because of it. Which was why I preferred the human world, where I was presumed whole until proven broken.
“Sorry.” I bowed my head and stared at my boots. “I shouldn’t have—”
“No, you’re right. We all let you down when you were just a kid, and I let you down last October. You could have been killed out there in the woods, and I can’t let that happen again. So, I’m ordering you to go get your things and come with me to the ranch. For your own safety.”