"Grace?" Jonathan asked at the tent flap. At first he didn't get an answer. Part of him knew she was there. She never got up earlier than he did, ever. But after Myrna's defection, and spending most of the day yesterday trying to console Erica, it made him nervous. "Grace?"

There was an angry grunt and the sound of someone moving in the tent. He let out his breath. "I brought you some breakfast."

He was answered with another noncommittal noise. He pursed his lips. Could be a bit more appreciative.

As the tent opened and Grace emerged, he bit back his thoughts. She looked terrible. She'd always been skinny, and now she was rail thin. She was pale and sweaty, her bare back bony. "Not hungry," she muttered.

Robbie appeared at their side as Grace climbed out of the tent. "Come'on girl, you will feel better with some fluids, at least."

She stood and Jonathan noted how shaky her hands were. He shared a concerned look with Robbie. Robbie wanted to take her into Branson and take her to a medical clinic. He was afraid she had HIV or something.

Aaron and Valerie thought she was just detoxing bad. "You have no idea how rough it can get," Aaron said. He should know, a cop he dealt with addicts on a regular basis. They both thought she needed to be checked into a drug treatment center.

So far Arthur had refused to consider either option. The balance of power in the camp was too delicate, he said, too complicated to have people away from camp for any length of time. Besides putting her into drug treatment in Branson meant someone had to remain in neutral territory for ninety days, and driving back to Dubuque or Wisconsin somewhere, as Aaron suggested repeatedly, put them out of camp even longer.

Jonathan's heart wanted to say, fuck it. He could take Grace and go. But his mind told him that Arthur was right, things were too precarious right now for even one of them to just leave like that.

Besides he knew Arthur's real fear, because he shared it. She might check out of treatment and run. It happened often enough with addicts. Diana, Jonathan's aunt and Arthur's wolf was married to a human, kin. His family had several alcoholics in it. They went into treatment, checked out AMA and disappeared for a time. It was a never ending cycle of drama.

And that was alcohol. Meth, heroin, narcotics, the cocktail of shit Grace was coming off were supposed to all be harder habits to break. For her to relapse on drugs was bad enough. But if it happened near here, what was to stop her from ending up back in the Fleischer's hands?

So they nursed her the best they could. Robbie found a worn fleece blanket and wrapped Grace in it while she drank a glass of orange juice. She gave him a leery thanks, no longer accustomed to having men care for her. Soon though, another wave of sweats hit and she shed it.

Arthur came over and knelt beside them. "You are looking better, Grace," he said as he lifted her chin and inspected her face.

Jonathan bit back a snort.

"You know what would make you feel even better? A hot shower and clean clothes."

Sarah, one of Arthur's beta, was there with towels and toiletries. "I was just heading that way." It was too innocent.

"I'm fine," Grace muttered.

"Grace," Arthur said, a sharpness in his voice. He looked in her eyes. "Take a shower."

She met the gaze for barely second before looking down and nodding. "Yes, sir."

"Come on, he's right. You'll feel better," Sarah insisted brightly, all but pulling Grace to her feet and leading her away to the shower.

"I'll walk with you, just up to the showers," Arthur said, following along with them.

"Girls," Robbie said, turning to Brianna, Erica and Valerie. "There will be a lot of old acquaintances up that way. Dangerous acquaintances."

Valerie nodded. Erica's face set. Moments later all three had decided that now was indeed the best time for them to shower as well. They headed up, hard on Grace and Sarah's heels.

The Grimweir arrived while the women were still up at the showers. They stood in front of the pavilion. Arthur nodded them inside. Jonathan followed his Dad and Robbie inside. Connor, Aaron and Amanda were there, but judging from the look on Connor's face he had no idea what the visit was about.

They talked for a long time about nothing. Jonathan was starting to wonder what was really going on when Sarah came in, ushering Grace with her.

She did look better for the shower and change of clothes. She was wearing a floor length skirt and a peasant shirt out of Amanda's clothes and her hair had been brushed and braided. She looked fetching, until you saw the dead look in her eyes.

"My daughter, Grace Sage," Arthur said. "Second youngest. Full blood daughter but kin. Grace give them a spin."

Grace dutifully did a spin and dropped a quick curtsey. The Grimweir inspected her with a calculating look. Jonathan felt a lump in his throat and his eyes narrowed. He fixed them on his father.

Abram Grimweir spoke. "Kin? Aye. As you know I've a son that didn't convert as well. It's a sorrow indeed. But still they are family for all their failings."

These men are two peas in a pod, Jonathan thought angrily.

"And family bonds are important, no?" Arthur commented. Jonathan's blood boiled as he looked back and forth between the two of them.

"Aye," Abram said. "And blood ties between Leidulf and Grimweir. Makes sense, I think."

"Their children, and they are both yet young enough to have many, would have more than enough blood. Good chance some full wolves among them."

Abram smiled at the thought.

"Better than weakening the blood with a human," one of the other Grimweir said to Abram, who nodded.

"Aye, I should think on this. We will talk on this again, Arthur, that I promise. Yes, we shall."

When the Grimweir had left, Jonathan exploded. "This is your solution? Sell her off to the Grimweir?"

"An arranged marriage," Arthur shot back. "Not a slave. Besides she is not your daughter."

Robbie started to his feet, almost as angry.

"Nor yours," Arthur barked.

Amanda and Connor were staring at him, dumbstruck. Aaron started and bit back comments more than a dozen times. Finally he managed to get out. "I know she's not my daughter but an arranged marriage? Have you spoken to her about this?"

"I did," Arthur replied, his voice was tight with irritation. He wasn't used to having to explain his decisions to anyone. He addressed Robbie. "What is your solution, then? Drug treatment?"

"Yes," Robbie replied.

"Alcoholics Anonymous," Arthur spat. "Sit in a circle and pray. Fails more often than it succeeds. You've seen it, I've seen it. Don't talk to me about rehab."

"There is more to treatment than AA," Aaron protested. "Medical detox, dual diagnosis, therapy. It's a chronic disease, drug addiction, but it's beatable. Heck, just getting her away from the people who use..."

"Exactly," Arthur exclaimed. "Get her away from that temptation. Put her somewhere she doesn't have access. And if we did put her through treatment and she relapses?" He implored this to Robbie, who was looking hurt and confused. "You heard what that slave said. She missed wolf culture. She'd run right back to them for that alone." He still managed to slur every mention of Myrna.

"Oh my god," Amanda said. "You want to marry her off to the werewolf equivalent of the Amish so she won't be able to run away or get access to drugs?"

"Addictions is serious. I know that. Yes, I will put her completely out of reach of that lifestyle if I have to. And if it comes to war, she won't be around to be a pawn...or captured."

"Are you really worried about that?" Jonathan asked.

"With you? Your other sisters? No. You will beat these beasts. Or if not, you'll die on your feet fighting. Grace, yes. Besides I am giving her what she's always wanted."

Robbie just arched an eyebrow. "I don't recall her ever playing 'arranged marriage' as a kid."

"She wants to be part of our society again. She will be. She wants to serve. She will serve. And she is my daughter, my pack." He turned and stormed out.

Erica, Valerie and Brianna came in after he left. It was clear from their expression that they knew what was going on.

"Women!" Erica exploded. "What the hell is wrong with them?"

"He said he had talked to her. That she agreed to this," Connor commented.

Valerie nodded. "He did."

"She was eager, almost desperate, to please him," Erica grumbled. "After all he's put her through. Damn it. First Myrna, now Grace. What the hell is with these fucking women!"

"Calm down," Valerie commanded. "You can't judge either of them by yourself, Erica. You don't know what they've been through. What it's like. You've always been so much stronger, so much braver."

Erica gave her a dark look.

"Look, I don't like it either. It's not..." Valerie shook her head. "Not an ideal solution."

"Not an ideal solution?" Jonathan snapped. "Understatement of the year." Not wanting to hear the rest he stormed out and into the woods.

He didn't go far. He found a log near the edge of the camp and sat, staring out at the woods. Robbie found him there a half an hour later or so. He sat beside Jonathan and for a long time said nothing.

"It's nuts," Jonathan said.

"It's typical Arthur," Robbie replied. "I talked to her. Says she agreed."

"Fuck," Jonathan spat. "Just cause he says. Don't always have to say yes, you know."

Robbie gave a dry laugh. "You're Connor's wolf now. You don't have to. Rest of us are in a different boat."

"No, it doesn't have to be like that," Jonathan said, tears threatening. "You wouldn't ever run the pack like that."

"I don't run the pack," Robbie said. "Look, he's a hard man. I'm not trying to say anything else. I'm not saying he's doing a good thing. But man, he's trying. In his own, perverse way, he's trying. He's getting her out of whatever trouble is coming at us. He's putting her somewhere protected. And he's protecting her from herself."

"You agree now, too?"

"I don't like the way he operates some times. I don't like the way he's going about this, but..."

Jonathan felt a lump in his throat. Robbie was right. That was the worse thing about Arthur. Everything the man did was so logical, so calculating. You could hate every decision but it was damn hard to fault Dad for making it. He buried his head in his arms and sobbed, Robbie patting his back.