He inhaled to clear his harried mind, taking in the fragrance of wildflowers and heather as he gazed over the rolling slopes of the moors. The land exuded a sense of tranquility and hope under the soft light of the morning sun. The peace between the Isle of Stone’s natives, however, had lasted only minutes before the cacophony began with ceaseless bickering. Agreeing to work together might have been a mistake.

Not that he had much of an alternative.

When Matilda stopped to take a breath during her speech, Lachlan seized the moment to interrupt her. “We all know of the injustices done to each of us, which led to the division of the island. Time to move beyond the past and address the current situation.”

“Part of what led to the schism is poor communication,” Ian added. “By meeting together to discuss the future of the island, we can avoid making the same mistakes our predecessors did.”

“Predecessors!” Matilda said. “It was only twenty-five years ago. I was there and remember it well.”

“My apologies,” Ian said, bending forward. “With your experience, you’ll be valuable in ensuring we don’t make those same errors in judgment.”

Lachlan had been a young gargoyle during the battles, but he remembered fragments with vivid recall. Battles with magic and bloodshed. Countless deaths. A senseless tragedy.

The sound of movement through the tall grasses made him turn. A female ran toward them, dark hair blowing behind her like the mane of a wild filly. Her red dress blazed like a siren, but he didn’t notice the pattern until she’d slowed her pace—similar to the one on Ian’s kilt.

“What the—” Bryce said at his side, adopting a defensive stance.

“It’s all right,” Ian said. “She’s my daughter.”

Lachlan didn’t recognize her, but that wasn’t a surprise. The wolves had kept to their territory on the isle for over two decades. Around what he’d guess her age to be as he scanned her nubile body with soft, supple curves.

A wolf shifter. With storm blue eyes like the ocean at dusk.

And the daughter of the alpha wolf.

Damn.

“Sorry, I’m late,” she said through quickened breaths, drawing his attention to her parted lips.

She dropped her hands to her knees as she panted from the run, and her hair fell forward in tempting disarray. Her movement offered him a glimpse of her cleavage, breasts rising and falling with each deep breath.

“I was held up by—” She glanced at her father before adding, “pack matters.”

“You haven’t missed much,” Ian replied before addressing the crowd. “This is Raina. Second-in-command in our pack.” He then introduced the others to his daughter.

Lachlan widened his stance and narrowed his eyes at Ian. “You introduced your beta last night.” That wolf shifter’s pride had bordered on arrogance; nothing like his alpha, Ian.

“Aye,” Ian acknowledged. “Seth and Raina share duties.”

The tree witches exchanged glances. Claire, the younger of the two, whispered, “Inconsistency.”

Raina assessed him through inquisitive eyes, making Lachlan forget what he was about to say.

Straightening to his full height, he forged ahead. “We all need to be in human form when they come.”