Kalen

“Ethan?” I repeat, the name curdling in my mouth. My hands drop from her wrists as if she’s burned me. “Ethan Blackwood is your mate?”

Lyla presses a hand to her chest, her face going pale. Something flickers in her eyes—a memory, a shadow I can’t quite see. But I know fear when I see it.

My mind is already racing ahead. “Lyla, you’re mated to Ethan? He’s the Alpha of your pack.” A bitter laugh escapes me. “Shit, Lyla!” I stand, my fists clenching. My jaw is tight, my pulse hammering. “Just when I thought there was a chance for us—if he thinks you came here willingly—your own pack will kill you for staying here!”

She barely reacts. Her body shudders, her gaze distant, lost somewhere else.

I push forward. “There’s a way out of this. If we say I held you here against your will—they won’t punish you.”

I don’t mention what they’ll do to me.

They can try.

Her eyes snap to mine. “No. You can’t.”

“It’s the only way,” I say. I exhale. The sooner I get her there, the more likely they are to be lenient.

She shakes her head fiercely. “It’s an act of war, taking another Alpha’s mate.”

I go silent. Because she’s right.

Then she does something that shatters my resolve—she reaches for my hand, gripping it tight before I can pull away. “Don’t take me back,” she pleads. “Ethan banished me. He doesn’t want me anymore.”

“Did he renounce his claim?” I ask, my voice quiet, dangerous.

She hesitates. Her hand rises to her throat, fingers pressing against the skin.

I see it then—the moment it hits her.

He didn’t renounce her.

A growl builds low in my chest. If Ethan Blackwood did this to her—if he so much as touched her with violence—he won’t be breathing much longer.

I can’t—won’t—hand her back to him.

“You’ll stay with me until I figure something out,” I say. “Until you’re able to stand on your own again.”

And fight. I want to see her strong. Prepared for whatever’s coming.

She lets out a small breath. “Thank you.”

I need air. I rise from her side and yank open the cabin door. Cold air stings my nostrils—rotting pine needles and copper-tanged warning. Her cinnamon rage still clings to my leather jacket, that infuriating warmth I shouldn’t want.

A twig snaps forty yards east, and I freeze.

The wind shifts, carrying with it another scent.

Sweat.

Blood.

Fear.

Lyla’s fingers dig into my forearm, and I swivel to see her standing at my shoulder. “Is that—”

Snarls rip through the forest’s throat. A chorus of howls follows—Derek’s tenor cracking mid-note, Cassie’s battle cry slicing through the dark. My ribs contract. Every hair on my neck stands at attention.

Liam’s voice detonates behind my eyes. Perimeter breach. Northwest ridge.

Not words. A grenade of urgency lodged in my skull. Beta to Alpha.

Lyla staggers back when I shuck my jacket. “What are you—”

I whirl before she crosses the threshold. “Stay. Here.” My knuckles whiten against the doorframe. The wood creaks.

Her throat moves when she swallows. Her right hands claws at her neck, and I don’t miss how the nails sharpen at the hint of danger.

Her other arm doesn’t react.

I notice that too.

My wolf isn’t waiting.

“Lock the door.” Denim seams split as my shoulders twist. “Don’t open it unless you hear three knocks.”

Her laugh scrapes raw. “You think I’m stupid enough to—”

Bones crack as my body shifts. Tendons snap like overstrung guitar wires. Fur erupts across my hands—black as sin, as the hole where my heart should be.

Kalen! Liam’s roar shakes molars I don’t have anymore.

I lunge for the tree line.

Her scent chases me—fear buried under wildfire defiance. Almost makes me turn back. Almost.

My paws hit the rain-soaked earth, the springy ground pushing back under my feet. Only a few weeks away from the first frost.

The bonds of my pack light up like tracer rounds—sixteen heartbeats scattered across the pines. Liam’s pulse hammers brightest, a strobe light beckoning northwest. Branches crunch beneath my claws. My nostrils flare as the scent of my prey blurs into one acrid smear.

Hunt. Kill. Protect.

The growl shudders up through my throat. I’ve neglected my pack. I knew the Rogue was still out there, but my attention has been absorbed by Lyla.

The shadow ahead resolves into tawny fur streaked with crimson. It’s Liam, turning toward me, his muzzle glistens pink. Took you long enough.

He doesn’t need vocal cords to sound like a prick.

I snap at his flank. Status.

Rogue took down Jax near the falls. His hackles rise when I growl. Still breathing when we found him. Cassie’s doing damage control.

Copper stench floods my sinuses. Fresh blood. The wrongness curdles the air like spoiled milk.

Liam’s shoulder bumps mine. You reek of potions.

I veer west. Eyes sharp.

He snorts. Eyes sharp, my ass. Since when did you take up healing?

Forest gives way to moss-slick rock. The river’s roar drowns out the lie forming in my gut.

Since never.

Since her.

Wind carries Jax's blood-scent three miles before we reach him. Shadows congeal into a nightmare—bloody paw prints circling a ravaged spruce. His silver fur glistens black under moonlight, ribs heaving as crimson pools beneath him. Cassie’s hands glow faint blue with lunar magic that does nothing to stem the arterial spray, her healing bag around her shoulder. She tears a strip of flannel from the shirt across her back and presses the wad to his throat. Her fingers shine scarlet.

Six other wolves join us, snarling, whining, snapping at each other.

I feel their restlessness. Their fear.

"Gouged his femoral," she snaps without looking up. Bark mulch sticks to her blood-smeared forearms. "Trail's fresh, though. Two minutes, maybe three." Her nod jerks toward the ravine. “Tracks lead south.”

Liam's snout wrinkles at the carnage. Smell that? Rotten meat and wet ash. His mental voice grates like steel wool. Same stench as the sheep killings.

I nudge Jax's twitching flank. His amber eye rolls toward me, pupil blown wide with shock. My stomach twists. Every pack death carves another scar across the alpha bond, but especially the death of a young one, however much of an idiot he is.

Jax gurgles. The sound bubbles up from ruined lungs. Cassie curses, shoving harder on the wound.

For a moment, my vision wavers, and it’s not Jax I see on the ground, but Lyla. Her throat torn open and bleeding out.

How close I came to losing her.

Cassie slaps a wad of moss against the wound. "Go. Now."

Liam's fangs close on my scruff. Move your ass or I'll lead.

I toss Lyla from my thoughts. We leap the river in tandem, the rest of the pack following. Ice water sprays my belly. The rogue’s stink hits halfway across—wet fur and rancid meat. Acid coats my tongue.

Liam falters. Blackwood?

My nostrils flare as I inhale. Is it a Blackwood? If Lyla’s suspicions are correct, and it’s Ethan—

No. Older. Decomposing. And I can’t believe an Alpha, even one of a rival pack, would dare to cross the boundaries and attack my wolves.

Three miles later, the Rogue's trail dissolves at Stormcreek's edge. Liam paces the shale beach, claws scoring granite. Vanished. Again.

My claws skid on shale. The trail ends at a lichen-crusted boulder.

Impossible. Liam sniffs the stone. It were here.

That's when the wind shifts.

Jasmine and desperation.

Lyla.

Every hackle rises along my spine. She was supposed to stay in the damn cabin.