Outside, the snarling increased in volume.

“I’m sure you’ll have questions for him when he’s done.  Would you like me to escort you to the main room?  Winifred asked that I keep an eye on both of you.”

Anton’s calm demeanor and choice of words told me he believed Thomas would be the winner.  It helped me think past the actual fighting to the reasons behind the challenge.  The challenger wanted leadership of not just Thomas’ pack but the compound—I liked that name—and me.  It wasn’t long ago that I’d asked Mary and Winifred about non-family packs.  They said there weren’t any.  When had that changed and why?  Just how big was Thomas’ pack now?  Anton was right, I did have questions.  Why hadn’t Mary told me that Thomas was now her leader?  What about her father, Henry?  I glanced at Mary and saw her worry.

“Yes, let’s go down,” I said to Anton.

Anton led us to the empty main room.  The door to the outside remained shut, yet we could hear the continuing battle.  Mary stood beside me, eyes wide as she listened.  We needed distraction.

No food waited near the fire.  Nothing to cook.

“Mary, let’s boil some water for a bath.”  One or both of the two fighting would need a bath or at the very least, to wash.  If they chose not to bathe, the water wouldn’t go to waste.  I felt overdue for a bath, myself.

While pumping the water, I noticed two more bags on the floor and realized I’d never looked at what Winifred had brought.  Once all the kettles were heating on the stove, I emptied the contents of the bags on the table.  As promised, I found cookies on a tinfoil wrapped plate.  I eagerly shoved one in my mouth while looking at everything else.  She’d brought more dried beans and a very large cloth bag of rice.  This time she’d also included a huge bag of oats, a jar of honey, a bag of sugar, and several jars of jams, tomatoes, and pickles.  It appeared that either Winifred canned or she knew someone who did.

Mary started to put the supplies into the cabinet, and I removed one of the steaming pots from the stove.  I poured half the water into the bowl in the bathroom, leaving just enough in the pot to boil oatmeal for breakfast.

After returning the pot to the stove, I went back to the tub room, washed my face, and brushed my teeth.  The sounds of the fight continued to filter in from outside.  I moved to the stove to check the water again.

By the time the water boiled, I had the oats ready to put in, and Mary had towels ready for whoever would take the bath.

It was only after I added the oats that I noticed the quiet.

“Well?” I asked, looking at Mary.

She met my gaze with a thankful smile.  “Thomas won.”

Relief flooded me. “Good.  Tell him we have a bath ready if he wants it.  Breakfast will be done in a few minutes.”

I stirred some sugar and honey into the cooking oats.

The door opened, and a very dirty and slightly bloody Thomas walked in.  For some reason, I’d expected a few more injuries than what I saw.  There’d been so much blood on the ground.

His gaze met mine.  My heart fluttered in response, and I quickly looked away.  He needed to start wearing a shirt.  Though I wasn’t watching him, I was aware of his regard as he strode toward me.  My skin prickled when he stopped just behind me, and a shiver traced its way down my spine.

I continued to stir the oats so they wouldn’t burn and pretended I didn’t notice him or my reaction to him.

“Mary, this is just about done,” I said.  “I’ll set it on the small table so it can finish cooking without burning.”

Before I could test the handle, Thomas reached around me and lifted the pot from the stove.  His bare arm brushed mine, making it harder to ignore him.

“Thank you,” I said, quickly stepping away.

He grabbed my hand and held the pot out to Mary without looking at her.  She quickly retrieved it, her cheeks pink and an unspoken apology in her eyes.  Behind Thomas, Anton winked at me and strode out the door.

“Do you have questions for me?” Thomas asked.

“How many are in your pack now?”

His lips curled in a slight smile.

“Nine.”

He sounded so proud of that number.

“And what will you do with those nine pack members?”

“Fix this place.  See if we can’t find ourselves a new purpose.”

“How exactly did you gain each of your new pack members?”

The humor faded from his expression.  He studied me, and I could tell he was trying to figure out where I was going with my questions.  When he didn’t answer, I asked my next question.

“If he would have won, Mary would have become one of his pack.  What if she didn’t want to be one of his pack?  Could she just leave?”

“She could,” Winifred said, entering the room.  She closed the door behind her and gave Mary a reassuring smile.  “However, she would have been considered Forlorn, an outcast, until she could find another pack to take her.  Mated, that would be an option.  However, an unMated Forlorn female is a dangerous position.  Even for a moment.”

“Could she just rejoin her father’s pack?”

“Once her father is proven weak in a challenge, he would find himself constantly challenged by those looking to win an unMated female,” Winifred said.

I turned back to Thomas.

“Did you challenge her father?”

“No.”

But if she went back to her father after defecting from his pack, he would be challenged.  Why had she left in the first place?  Was it because she was getting ready to say yes to Gregory?  Or had Thomas interfered?

“Did you tell Gregory to ask her to join your pack since they will be Mated eventually?”

He didn’t respond, answering the question with his silence.

“I’m guessing being part of your pack isn’t all Mary had hoped it would be.  I’m also guessing that leaving her current pack to rejoin her father’s isn’t as easy as one might think.”  I turned toward Mary.  “He’s telling you to keep secrets and to do things you don’t like, and you’re feeling guilty about it.  Don’t.  I’m pretty smart and will know whom to blame once I figure everything out.”  I eyed Thomas.  “And I will figure it out.”

His lip curled a little, not a smile but a show of his frustration with me.  I kept my face neutral and stared back.

“The water’s getting cold,” I said.

He took the hint, let go of my wrist, and closed himself into the bathroom.

“Mary, help yourself to breakfast.  Winifred, could I talk to you outside for a moment?”

She nodded and walked outside with me.  Men still wandered the yard, but I saw no sign of a wounded wolf or man.  I could only guess he’d already left.

“Breakfast is ready,” I said to whomever might care to listen.  Several of the men went inside.  Winifred and I kept walking.

“Do you have your keys with you?” I asked, moving toward her truck.

“They are in the ignition.”

I couldn’t have been happier.  Opening the passenger door, I asked, “Would you mind taking me to the junk yard?  I could use a little time away from here.”

“Certainly.”  She got in, started the engine, and we were off.

“I believe he does mean well,” she said as we bounced down the driveway.

“I’m sure he does.”  I stared out my window for a moment.  “Mary wasn’t the one who wanted to start sleeping with Gregory, was she?” I asked, finally.

“No.  She didn’t want to leave you, yet.”

My eyes narrowed at Thomas’ sneaky, underhanded move.

“What does he gain by being in the room with me at night?”

“He truly believes he is your Mate.  He wants to protect you and be near you.”

“And the others?” I said.  “Didn’t they truly believe I was their Mate?”

“They did.”

“What makes him think he’s different, then?” I asked, studying Winifred.

“His unwillingness to give up.  Ever.”

His promise never to bite me again kept me from worrying about his persistence.  That didn’t mean I would accept him in my room at night anymore.