[She doesn't hesitate: for her primarily cut and dried view of the world, with very subtle shades of grey not obvious to the casual observer, she nods emphatically at Duke's version of a perfect world.]

Not being needed would be...amazing. But at the same time...I might also go crazy, you know? Dad and I...he's from the point where we gave it up. We retired, we were just done. Living normal lives, staying out of the supernatural crap. [She pauses, wiping her forearm across her forehead.] His call came from an abandoned bank, where a pack of Alphas fought my pack. He probably had just figured out, before he got my call, that I was there to protect my friends when I wasn't supposed to be.

I just...I couldn't stay away. [And when she'd fired that first shot after so long...

She's never done drugs, but she imagines that's what it has to feel like. A rush, a sense of peace...a certainty about everything in the world, including her place in it.

His remark about blood, though...the way the light in his face sort of drains away...she stills, planting her hands on her hips for a moment. She's torn...but she's also curious.

Swallowing hard, she takes a deep breath.]

What happens?