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Roark headed up the line of Suburbans, checking the vehicle numbers until he found the one with the number 6 in a dayglow pawprint on the rear window. A slim but surprisingly heavy utility tote was wedged in the back. Roark took it back to the truck Rusty and Cor were underneath to find Baz leaning against the side of it hitting his vape.

“If you tell my mates…”

“Dude…you know I got you,” Roark said.

Baz nodded as Roark knelt in the snow and opened the case to see wires, hoses, and tools of assorted shapes and sizes.

“This looks promising,” Baz said.

Rusty’s chuckle lacked any trace of humor as he stuck his hand out from beneath the SUV. “Let’s hope looks aren’t deceiving.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

(Logan)

There was something immensely satisfying about being able to stamp Closed on the cover of yet another file, especially when it was the final one on his desk. Logan cracked his neck and shut the stamp pad.

The command center had been teeming with activity since he arrived. Now, they were finally going to be able to go home and get some rest before resuming their assigned rotations. Their mission was far from over. It wouldn’t be finished until every case file had been resolved. Right now, Logan was just weary and ready to head home.

The walk past council chambers felt especially long. Had Brooks’ door been open, he’d have dropped into one of the comfortable chairs across from his desk and chatted with him before heading out. Slush and wet mud covered the ground while dark, heavy clouds still blocked out most of the sun’s light. There was a crispness to the air that carried little warmth and all the promise of icy rain that could easily turn into snow. Winter’s last, desperate attempt to lay claim to the land couldn’t have come at a worse time, but at least his mates were on their way home.

Grinning, Logan headed to the UTV, as memories of their brief messages tumbled around in his mind. Frustration, adrenaline…relief, he’d picked up on their emotions several times over the last day, but the most memorable moments had come while they’d been sorting out the damage to their vehicles.

Long way.

Short way.

Crashing hard at a hotel.

Right before he’d stamped the final file, he’d received word that they were headed back to the Slaughter Bowl to take Deadman’s Pass home, since the repairs on the SUV were holding strong, thanks to Rusty. A blast of icy air washed over him as reached the UTV, smacking him awake as a second, harder gust, followed.

What fucking time was it anyway?

Instead of hoping in, he fished his phone out of his pocket.

1:17.

Had it truly been thirty-six hours since his mates had scrambled out of bed?

Logan had lost track of the meals that had been delivered to his desk. Like the rest of the crew, he’d eaten at his station, only stepping away to retrieve something from the supply cabinet. They’d had five hours of mandatory rest, otherwise, no one had taken breaks besides quick trips to the restroom. He couldn’t wait to get home, hug the pups, shower, and let them crawl all over him.

Time to get moving.

Logan was halfway up Wolf’s Way when he realized that there was no need for him to head to the woodshop today. A left on Howling Drive, followed by a right on Starlight Boulevard, soon got him sorted out. Watching wolves popping in and out of shops along the block, unaware of what had taken place up in the mountains, made Logan smile, grateful to have played a small part in keeping the peace.

On his way past the toy store, a flash of green caught his eye. Wren loved that shade of lime, so Logan found a parking spot and entered a store filled with laughter and babbling pups.

“If there’s anything I can help you with, just let me know,” a smiling older wolf called out from behind the counter.

“Are all the toys in the display window for sale?” Logan asked.

“Absolutely,” the silver-haired wolf replied. “I’ll be right with you.”

“No worries.”

Now that he was in the store, Logan couldn’t resist browsing, immediately drawn to a rack of puppets when he spotted a hedgehog that reminded him of Wren’s project on hibernation and how intently they’d watched the puppet show. Hedgehogs hibernated. So did skunks and groundhogs. He snagged a woven basket and added each critter to it, along with a chipmunk puppet, overcome by a sudden burst of inspiration. His mates would get a kick out of it. Logan was certain of that. They’d throw the pups a puppet show of their very own, complete with all the voices and silly shenanigans.

Snacks too.