“Not even you?” I can’t help asking.
His laugh is dark and rich. “Especially not me.” He glances at me and the heat in his gaze makes my cheeks flush. “Though I might ask your silence for other reasons sometimes.”
A thought slips through the bond between us—me crouched before him, staring up at him, as I lean forward, my mouth open and ready for his?—
“Sorry,” he mutters, shutting down the thought. “I didn’t mean for you to see that.”
I swallow, fighting the drag of desire his thoughts sparked in me. “That’s okay. I…” I don’t know what else to say, but I’m saved from saying anything by a man calling Ryker’s name.
“Alpha,” the young wolf interrupts. “We need you urgently. It seems Genop and Rue are at it again.”
With a sigh, Ryker presses a kiss to my temple and lets me go.
“Rest,” he orders over his shoulder. “I’ll see you tonight.”
I watch him go, my fingers absently brushing the spot where his lips touched my temple.
What have I gotten myself into?
Chapter
Twelve
Over the next three days, our training sessions intensify. Each morning, Ryker and I work in the East Chamber, refining my control over the visions. Each afternoon, I work with Lyra to learn to read the journals, absorbing Cheyenne’s wisdom. The pattern is broken only by meals shared with the pack, where I’m gradually becoming a recognized—if not yet fully accepted—presence.
Zella has become a friend, often finding me between training sessions to share pack stories or offer insights into Shadowmist customs. Her easy warmth is welcome after so long without any kind of friendship.
“The full moon ceremony is tonight,” she says as we walk along one of the upper corridors overlooking the main cavern. “Are you nervous?”
“A little,” I admit. In the Silvercrest Pack, I’d spent every full moon locked away, forbidden from participating in what they considered sacred rituals. “I’m not sure what to expect.”
Her smile is reassuring. “It’s beautiful. The entire pack gathers at the rocks. We shift, we run, we hunt togetherunder the moon’s blessing.” She hesitates. “I know you can’t shift, but?—”
“Ryker has made arrangements. I’ll be joining you in the run.”
Curiosity flashes in her eyes, but she doesn’t press. “Well, whatever happens, I’ll be there if you need anything.” She squeezes my arm gently. “That’s what pack is for.”
The simple gesture of inclusion nearly undoes me. After a lifetime of rejection, these small moments of acceptance feel almost too precious to bear.
“Thank you,” I manage, my voice rougher than intended.
She seems about to say more when a shadow falls across us. We turn to find Lithia approaching, her scarred face impassive but her silver eyes alert.
“Alpha Female.” Despite my efforts, she’s maintained a professional distance. Not hostile, but not friendly either. “The Alpha requests your presence.”
I nod, touching Zella’s arm in farewell before following Lithia through the winding corridors. She moves with predatory grace, her footsteps nearly silent on the stone floor.
“How are the patrols?” I ask, attempting conversation.
Her gaze flicks to me, surprise briefly visible. “Doubled on the northern boundary. Increased along the river territories.” She hesitates, then adds, “No sign of any further forces since the tunnel attack.”
“That doesn’t mean they’ve given up.”
“No,” she agrees. “It means they’re planning something bigger.”
We fall silent as she leads me to a part of the den I haven’t visited before. It sits well away from the main den, down a long corridor that slowly tilts down. I follow her as the passage narrows, forcing us to walk single file until it opens into a room quite unlike any I’ve yet seen.
It’s a round room, the stone walls rough and covered in vines and moss. Where a ceiling should be, instead there is ahole open to the sky—a natural oculus. Afternoon sunlight streams through, illuminating a pool of crystal-clear water at the chamber’s heart. The pool’s surface is unnaturally still, reflecting the light like a perfect mirror. Around its circumference, ancient runes are carved into the stone floor, their patterns flowing in spirals toward the water.
