Rafe's foot caught me in the chest. Air rushed from my lungs, and I went down hard. By the time I could breathe again, they were gone.
Nate. The corrupted wolves. Rafe.
All of it dissolved into smoke and rot-stench, leaving nothing behind but blood on the floor and my son's terrified scream still echoing in my ears.
I lay there trying to make my body work, trying to stand despite injuries that should have kept me down. The pack house was silent now, corrupted wolves retreating the same way they'd come.
25
THE MASK FALLS
DANIEL
The pack house came into view through the trees, and even from a distance I could see it was wrong. Lights blazing when they should have been dim, the front door standing open despite the cold, and the scent hit us like a wall.
Blood. Corruption magic. Fear thick enough to taste.
I was running before conscious thought caught up, Evan at my heels, both of us moving with wolf-speed that blurred the world into scent and instinct and the desperate need to reach our pack before it was too late.
Michael.
He stood in the doorway, and the sight of him stopped my heart. Pale, shaking, moving like every step cost him, blood soaking through his shirt from wounds that should have kept him down. But he was upright, vertical through sheer force of will, and when his eyes found mine they were wild with terror.
“Daniel—” His voice cracked. “Nate. They took Nate.”
The world tilted.
I closed the distance between us in three strides, hands finding his shoulders, steadying him before he could collapse. “What happened? Where?—”
“Rafe.” The name came out like poison. “It was Rafe. He brought corrupted wolves and they took Nate?—”
“No. That's not—Rafe wouldn't?—”
“Daniel.” Michael grabbed my shirt, pulled me close enough that I could see every shade of terror in his eyes. “I watched him do it. Watched him drop the mask and smile while he took my son. He said to tell you—” His voice broke. “Daniel, Nate's hurt. Rafe used corruption magic, burned through his druid protections like they were nothing. And I couldn't—I tried to stop him but I don't know how to use this magic yet and?—”
“Enough.” I cupped his face, made him look at me. “This isn't your fault. You hear me? This is Rafe. This is my failure for not seeing what he was.”
“We don't have time for guilt,” Evan said, and his voice carried Alpha authority I'd been teaching him for years. “We need to move. Now.”
He was right.
I turned to the pack house, saw wolves already gathering. They'd felt the wrongness through pack bonds, had come running at the first sign of threat. Jonah, Sienna, Mason, Alaric, a dozen others, all watching me with eyes that saidlead us, tell us what to do, trust us to follow.
“Rafe took Nate,” I said, and my voice carried across the gathered pack with cold fury. “He's been working against us from the beginning. Playing us from the inside.”
Growls rippled through the pack, low and threatening. Pack didn't just mean family. It meant protection, belonging, the absolute certainty that you'd fight and die for the wolves beside you. And Nate was pack. Human-born, druid-marked, mated to my son. He was ours.
“We're going to get him back,” I continued. “All of us. But understand—this is war. Whatever we find at Moon Clearing, it's going to be bad. Worse than the corrupted wolves. Worse than anything we've faced before.”
“Then we face it together,” Sienna said, and the pack rumbled agreement.
“Shift,” I ordered. “We run as wolves. Faster, stronger, and we'll need every advantage we can get. Michael?—”
“I'm coming with you.” He pushed away from my supporting grip, stood on his own despite the pain. “Don't even think about leaving me behind.”
“You're injured?—”
“I'm his father.” Steel underneath the exhaustion, determination that wouldn't bend. “And I've got moon magic whether I know how to use it or not. You need every advantage? I'm coming.”
