“Would someone please tell me why this isn’t a problem?” I asked, put off by their easy banter when I was still so tense.

“Keepers can’t create portals,” Adne said simply, slipping out of her impromptu wrestling match with Connor to face me again.

“Why not?” I asked, frowning.

“It’s one of the few benefits we have for not breaking the natural magic rules like they do,” she said.

“I’m still not following,” I said.

“Remember that whole sin against nature issue Silas brought up earlier?” Connor grinned at me.

“I do, not that it made any sense.” I folded my arms across my chest. “And I’m surprised you’re bringing it up now.”

He held his hands up in surrender. “Only out of necessity. I think you’re gorgeous, wolfie—no mutant features in sight as far as I can tell. Then again, you do have all your clothes on.”

“Shut it, Connor.” Lydia groaned.

“Yes, ma’am. Okay—so the Keepers broke some big rules on the way to all that power they have, creating Guardians included,” Connor said, pushing his hands through his messy chestnut hair. “The truth of it is portals work on natural principles. And if you go around offending the earth all the time, like the Keepers do, you can’t ask it for favors.”

“Huh?” I couldn’t make sense of what he’d just said.

“Everything in this world is connected—including all the places on the globe,” Adne said. “Weavers use Old Magic to pull together the threads of that connection, linking one site to another. That’s how we travel.”

“But the Keepers—” I began.

“Can’t pull the threads to begin with,” Connor finished for me. “They have to travel the old-fashioned way. Or the new technology way, I guess. But no portals. They cannot weave. The earth won’t allow it.”

I still wasn’t sure I understood, but our conversation was interrupted by the door on the other side of the room swinging open. Dropping to the ground, I shifted, ready to attack the man who had a crossbow aimed at us. Connor stepped in front of me before I could strike.

“Isaac, put that down! What did we ever do to you?”

The man with the crossbow grunted. “Oh, good. We were wondering when you’d get here. Why did you open a door in the storage room?”

“Because if it were Ethan with that crossbow, he’d have already shot her.” Adne pointed to me. “I was being cautious.”

“Not a bad idea,” Isaac said. “Though all he could do right now is spew cookies at the wolf. He’s been stuffing his face ever since he got here.”

“Calla, you should try not to shift so much here,” Lydia said, moving to embrace Isaac. “Where’s my bestgirl?”

I shifted back into human form, swallowing a retort that hovered on my tongue. What did they expect? I didn’t have a very good history with Searchers and crossbows.

“She’s in the kitchen with Ethan,” Isaac replied.

“How is Ethan?” Adne asked. “Aside from being filled with cookies.”

Isaac looked at me. “He’s coming around.”

“That’ll do,” Connor said, taking my hand and pulling me to the door. “Isaac, meet Calla. She’s the alpha who’ll be leading our fabulous new Guardian revolt.”

I’m doing what? The ramifications of this new plan came crashing down onto me like a rock slide.

“Is that all?” Isaac grinned. “Nice to meet you, rabble-rouser.”

I shook his hand, giving Connor an unfriendly sidelong glance.

He slapped me on the shoulder. “Just making sure your reputation precedes you.”

“Thanks.”

We followed Isaac, whose wealth of long, minuscule braids swung from a ponytail at the nape of his neck as he sauntered into a large room that was empty except for the mats on the floor and weapons hanging from the walls.

Seeing my eyes wander, Lydia smiled at me. “Training room.”

Isaac led us through another door, where we were greeted by a roaring fire, the smell of fresh coffee, and two faces. One smiling, the other scowling.

“Hey, beautiful.” Lydia opened her arms to a woman who looked about the same age—thirty-five give or take a couple of years—and whose chin-length crop of springing curls was reminiscent of Bryn’s, except for their blue-black hue.

“It’s my lucky day,” the woman said, kissing her.

“Can it be my lucky day too?” Connor asked, eyeing the liplocked pair.

“Don’t hit on my girlfriend, Connor.” Lydia laughed, pulling the other woman into a fierce hug.

“I wasn’t hitting on her,” Connor objected. “I gave her a compliment. You think I’d poach your territory? You forget that I patrol with you. I don’t want to be at the wrong end of your daggers.”

“Smart man,” Lydia said, then turned the other woman to face me. “Tess, this is Calla. She’s the slumbering wolf we’ve been hoping would stir.”

“And stir she has.” Tess came to me immediately, offering both her hands. “It’s an honor to meet you.”

Again that word . . . honor. It threw me.

“Thanks.” I took both her hands; they were soft and warm. When she smiled, it lit up her pale blue eyes, full of sincere kindness. I liked her instantly.

“Do we have time for a cup of coffee?” Isaac asked, holding up a pot. “Or are we jumping straight to blood and guts?”