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They’d come for her and her children. They’d fought to protect them. She remembered the awful moment when Colin had prepared to bury his claws in Meg’s fragile body. Glancing over at Garrett, she remembered the snarl when he’d lunged, the brutality with which he’d fought, for her. And as the sounds of the battle refreshed in her mind, along with that moment of utmost horror, she realized something else. Apparently the word was out that she was a female who was capable of producing offspring with more than one male. A rarity in the werewolf world. Colin would not be the last werewolf who would try to mate with her by force. Or the last to try to murder her children. As long as she remained packless and unmated, her children were in danger.
    Along with the bath, she admitted to herself with a sense of inevitability, her daughter needed protection. She rested her cheek on Megan’s head and studied the men in the cave, starting with the McGowans. The dark hair and dark eyes common to werewolves were a striking asset to the sharp-edged profiles of the twins, giving weight to their reputation. The McGowans were the most feared and respected Protectors in centuries. They were legendary for their ruthless defense of those under their protection. Tension gathered in her gut, spreading outward. Her daughter would need the protection of such strong men. Her mind reluctantly went to the next logical conclusion as her gaze moved to Garrett. Any wolf running with such men would share the same code of honor. And even if he didn’t, as much as they wouldn’t interfere between mates, pack hierarchy would ensure that they would for her offspring.
    Want me to prove it?
    She studied Garrett’s hard face. Dear God, she didn’t want him to prove it, but it looked as though she couldn’t afford for him not to.

    MEGAN’S sense of empathy chose that moment to kick in. Her little hand touched Sarah’s cheek. “Mommy sad?”
    Megan’s voice carried in the cave. All the men except Daire looked at her. She wasn’t sure how to answer. No doubt, any response would be interpreted according to the needs of the man hearing it.
    “No, baby. I’m just tired.”
    Tired of the prison of her heritage. Tired of being damned if she did, damned if she didn’t. She sighed. Garrett frowned, and ran his eyes over her from head to toe. Looking, she knew, with a potential mate’s obsessive need to regulate and control everything surrounding his woman. She gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile.
    Her acting skills must not be up to par because Garrett walked away from Donovan, something one never did to his Alpha. Donovan frowned. Part of her had the panicked thought that maybe the Alpha didn’t think she was worth one of his Protectors’ trouble. That would be very bad. An Alpha could prevent a mating. Garrett stopped in front of her. His fingertip came to rest against her jugular. A threat?
    “There’s no need for you to worry. We will take care of everything.”
    “My son is out there. My friend is out there. My other friend is dying, so you tell me—how do you expect me not to worry?”
    Garrett grimaced. “I guess, when you put it like that, I can’t.”
    Beneath Garrett’s finger, Sarah Anne’s pulse raced like a freight train. Her anxiety rose around them in an acrid addition to the coppery scent of blood. Inside Garrett, the need to fix things for her increased in a silent howl. He wanted to pick her up, carry her to his home, settle into the big recliner in his living room, wrap a blanket around her and, well, coddle her. Which was a hell of a note for a man who’d never coddled anything.
    The little girl stuck her grubby thumb out, looked at it and then popped it into her mouth. In all his speculations about his future, his mate coming to him with children by another man had not been a scenario he’d envisioned. As confident as he was about his ability to make Sarah Anne happy, he had no confidence in his ability to