With everything happening that day—the ceremony, the Thornridge attack, the chaos of the battle and its aftermath—there wasn’t time to explore what that feeling meant. I left the next morning without learning his name.
I still think about those green eyes more than I should.
I close the ancient text and return it to its proper shelf. My search has been completely useless. No references to curses, no documentation of psychic abilities in our bloodline, and no explanations for the dark things I saw wrapped around those hearts.
Which means I need to talk to someone with actual experience.
I’m doing this.
The sun is already low when I slip out of the archive and head to my apartment. Our main settlement is built for survival—thick stone walls, tiny windows, everything designed to keep out the brutal cold. It’s functional and about as warm and welcoming as a prison.
I pack light. Change of clothes, dried food, water, and my knife. The drive to Grayhide will take hours, and I’ll be traveling through areas that aren’t exactly safe after dark.
But this can’t wait. The vision has been eating at me all day, and every hour that passes makes me more certain that what I saw was real.
I need answers.
The roads between territories are decent thanks to the inter-regional agreements everyone signed after dealing with Thornridge. Llewelyn, Grayhide, and Ambersky all contributed resources to improve travel routes and make coordination easier. The threat from Thornridge—a pack that had infiltrated multiple territories and tried to exploit the Amanzite reserves discovered in Grayhide lands—brought everyone together in ways that had seemed impossible before. Even though my pack has become more secluded than ever, it’s nice to know we have a couple of allies, just in case.
The irony of using those roads to sneak away from my pack isn’t lost on me.
My car handles the transition from tundra to desert smoothly. The landscape changes gradually, then all at once. Snow gives way to rock and sand, and the temperature climbs until I’m sweating despite cranking the air conditioning. I shed my heavy coat and roll up my sleeves, already regretting not bringing lighter clothes.
Grayhide territory looks alien, everything in browns and reds and golds, with sparse vegetation and these massive rock formations jutting up from the earth. It’s beautiful in a harsh, unforgiving way that’s completely different from home.
The tundra is cold and brutal, but it’s also alive in ways the desert isn’t. Trees adapted to freezing temperatures, animals with thick fur, and the constant presence of snow and ice. Here, everything feels stripped down to bare essentials. Survival without flourish.
Twilight falls as I drive deeper into the Grayhide lands. The road stretches empty ahead of me, just packed earth and occasional markers. I run through what I’ll say to Raegan when I get there, trying to find a way to explain the vision without sounding insane.
“Hey, I think our pack is cursed” probably isn’t the best opening line.
Maybe “I need help with something supernatural” works better.
Or I could just show up and burst into tears and let her figure it out from there. That’s probably more honest, anyway.
The sound of another engine nearby registers too late.
I check my rearview mirror and see a large black vehicle closing in fast. Out here, on a road that sees maybe three cars a day, another vehicle showing up right at dusk is suspicious. One that’s accelerating like it’s chasing me is worse.
I press the gas pedal down, but my sedan is no match for whatever they’re driving. They pull alongside me, and I catch a glimpse of unfamiliar faces through their windows. Men with hard eyes and predatory grins that make my wolf bare her teeth.
Not Grayhide. Not Llewelyn.
The black vehicle swerves into my lane. I yank the steering wheel to avoid getting hit, but they cut me off again. My tires skid on loose gravel, and I lose control, veering off the road completely.
The car jolts to a stop in a cloud of dust.
I grab my knife and scramble out, already knowing this is bad but refusing to make it easy for them. The black vehicle stops behind mine, and three men get out.
They spread out to surround me before I can run.
“Easy now.” The one in the middle holds up his hands like I’m a scared animal. “We just want to talk.”
“You have a weird way of starting conversations.” I tighten my grip on the knife and adjust my weight, ready to move.
“You’re a long way from home, Llewelyn.” He takes a step closer. “Traveling alone isn’t safe.”
“I can handle myself.”
