“New rule,” he rumbles. “The next time you decide to take off on a little adventure, I need to know about itbeforeyou step out our front door. Not after. Not when you’ve already left the boundary of Amara’s wards and are halfway there. I don’t like the feeling of having to run to you while worrying if you’re safe.” He pauses. “Even if the instinct to hunt what’s mine runs deep.”
My wolf perks up at the idea. A mischievous need to run from our mate only so he can catch us has her all but rattling the bars of the cage. And I’d be lying if I said my human half was opposed to the idea. Which is ironic since cardio has never been something I sought out. Willingly, at least.
I shelf that particular train of thought, focusing instead on what matters. Owning my fuckup. “I know,” I say under my breath, guilt settling into the space curiosity had occupied when I first left the house. “This wasn’t one of my most well-thought-out plans.”
“No, it wasn’t.” He sighs, pulling back just enough that he can look down at me. “We can’t let the quiet fool us into a false sense of security. The threat is still very much out there.”
Yeah, and they’re busy regrouping, licking their wounds, so they can hit back harder.He doesn’t need to speak that part aloud.
We both know it’s the bitter truth. I’m painfully aware my encounter with that dark coven of witches isn’t going to be my last. It’s only a question of when I’ll be forced to face them again. And omegas in this territory remain at risk. To that coven,they’re still seen as something to be taken and exploited for their gain.
“I’ll be smarter next time.”
His eyes narrow, not loving the quiet warning woven into my words. I don’t mean it as a threat. I’m just being realistic. Because standing here and promising I won’t make another rash decision like this in the future would be a lie. To him and myself.
He studies me for a second, then lets it go. “So,” he starts, the corner of his mouth pulling up. “You can get into my head now, huh?”
I bite my lip. “Evidentially,” I tell him with a small, deceitfully casual shrug. “I still don’t really understand how it works. This was the first time I tried to speak directly into someone’s mind from that far away. I really didn’t expect it to work.”
“You called out to me during the attack on Ashvale.”
“That wasn’t really on purpose.” Even if I’m still grateful it happened. “I just knew I needed you. And my mind…foundyours.” This isn’t the most articulate thing I’ve ever said, and it doesn’t really explain anything. It’s just the best I’ve got right now because it’s not as if my magic came with instructions. I’m figuring it all out as it manifests in me—albeit, clumsily as hell and painfully aware of it. “At first, I thought it was a gift I could only access out of necessity,” I continue. “Kind of like when I’m able to tap into Mom’s magic. And like I already told you about Juno—she was right there in front of me when I spoke to her that way and I wassoworried for her. I didn’t justwantto reach her, Ineededto.” I shift in his hold so I can lay my hand on his chest. “With you, we’d already opened that line before, purposefully or not. So I just…took a leap. Hoped I could bridge the gap between our minds again. You’ve got to admit that it’s a pretty nifty trick.”
While I’m talking, Rennick’s gaze flickers past me, over my shoulder, toward the open door of the shack. His posturechanges, sliding into that assessing predator focus he wears when he’s bracing for a threat. He scans the dim interior, and when he confirms what I already know—that the structure is empty—his attention returns to me. The tension doesn’t leave him, though. It lingers in the way he holds his body.
“I can’t keep up with your magic,” he mutters finally. “I still don’t fully understand how you’re able to access Thalassa’s weaver gifts.”
We talked about it last night after we tried to sleep and failed for a while. I told him the truth about how the power I used on him wasn’t mine, not fully anyway. That it was left to me by Mom like some kind of weird inheritance or parting gift. I’d also told him I was sorry. For the creek. For what that magic did to him. He brushed it aside with a shrug that didn’t match the way his body locked up, fear still lingering in his muscles like it hadn’t quite burned off yet. He said I owed him a few, his words light like it was a joke.But I hate the idea of trading pain—of turning it into a currency between us like we need to settle debts. I told him as much last night.
“If it makes you feel better,” I chirp, offering a smile that’s a half wince. “No one understands how she left pieces of her magic in me. Not even Amara.”
And if she can’t explain it, I don’t know who can.
“It doesn’t,” Rennick retorts dryly, his nose wrinkling as a flash of distaste crosses his face, his lingering feelings about my mother leaking through.
He steps away from me, but his fingers slide down and twine with mine, unwilling to break contact completely. I’m grateful for that in a way that makes my chest cavity warm. The moment the heat of his body shifts away, I can feel the cold, sweeping ache try to creep in again, that familiar hollowness that never quite leaves. His touch reinforces the walls holding it at bay.
Rennick’s head swivels then, gaze sharpening as he assesses the small building and then the wide stretch of the landing strip.
“Why here?” he asks, though the question doesn’t feel directed at me. It’s more him thinking out loud. “Why is this place so important? Why would we have been here that night?” I don’t need clarification on which night he means. He continues, brow furrowing. “People only come here when a supply drop is scheduled. I can’t think of a single reason that you, of all people, should’ve been out here eight years ago.”
I nod, just as lost as he is, before tipping my chin at the new addition. “When did you upgrade from the helicopter pad?”
“About two years after you left,” he explains. “There’s a limit to what can be brought in by helicopter. My father thought it would benefit the pack if we could fly in more supplies. Bring in a higher volume at a time.” He sighs, a shadow creeping into his features as he adds, “My father was a lot of things, but he wasn’t dumb. He was right about this making life easier.”
It makes sense to me too. Silverthorne, the closest town to here, is small with a limited range of businesses. And it’s not like online deliveries are exactly an option this far out.
“The helicopter pad wasn’t really the focus of my dreams.” I tug gently on his hand and guide him closer to the doorway. “This building is.”
He steps inside first, and the second I follow behind him, the same cold chill that crept up my spine the first time I walked in here returns. I shiver.
Rennick notices immediately, his gaze turning sharp as it sweep over me. “Cold?”
“Can’t you feel it?” I ask quietly. “Something bad happened here.”
I half expect him to brush it off, to chalk it up to my upbringing, to my mother’s witchy influence. Instead, he nods.
“My wolf’s growling. He doesn’t like this place, either.”
