I stare at what I've done. I wait for the guilt to rise…
It's disgusting what he tried to do, the way all these wolves behave.
And what I've become. I just eviscerated a man.
Did I kill him? Will he die?
I hope so.
And I don't dwell on what that makes me as a person. I turn. The cramping returns.
Two steps, five, ten, then I'm flying over the cliff, arms open, trying not to panic as the running water below rushes closer.
I can hear the other wolves as they catch up, yelling, but it fades, which means they didn't jump after me.
The relief is short-lived.
We hit the water like landing in cement. It's brutal. My lungs seize as I register the shock of cold water. The blood and bile in my mouth wash away, and the last burning thought before darkness claims my consciousness is,I'm ready to head north and get some answers.
Chapter 9: Grayson
PRESENT DAY, JULY
Sweet, smoky tendrils wisp around the room, dancing toward the bookshelves and aged photographs on the walls, swirling up slowly before the ceiling fan obliterates it. I take another puff of the cigar—a rare indulgence—and it swirls toward Orion.
He doesn't react. He rarely does. I'm the hothead; he's the reticent one. Orion leans back in his chair, smug. "Check."
I adjust my long legs and set the cigar in the ashtray, glancing at the chessboard. Sometimes, playing with Orion is fun, a challenge. The trouble is we know each other too well. A game between us lasts for days. We take turns in victory, but today I'm distracted.
I keep thinking back to that phone call this afternoon with Kendrick, the leader of all shifters in North America. Máni, we call him. I rarely hear from him. Years can pass withoutspeaking, but he's called me twice this year, and I've traveled to Washington State once to meet with him.
Orion glances up, expression neutral. "Rate still increasing?"
I nod, swallowing down the knot forming in my throat. It's been almost six months to the day since Lily went missing—gone without a trace.
We didn't see the pattern for years. Wolves are shit at communication. That benefits clans across the country in avoiding conflict and boundary disputes, but it's a detriment to us right now.
All the missing shifters were fairly young and female, apart from a few. All disappeared; no blood, no broken twigs, or dug-up dirt. In all cases, only a subtle trace of their scent led into the woods where their packs hunt. No sign of foul play. No witnesses. As though they had taken a walk into the woods and never looked back.
"I visited Lily's folks this morning. Her mom swears she's still alive."
"Deltas, right?"
"The whole family," I confirm. "It's not a wolf's instincts. It's a mother's. She says she can still feel her…" I swear under my breath. I didn't want to steal the woman's hope. Her grief is still raw, and she's desperate for me to tell her I can get her daughter back, that I'll figure out who took her, that I can save her.
I'm her Lune—the Alpha leader of Silent Peak—but there's nothing I can do. This isn't just another petty squabble, there's no plan of action, we have no leads. It's been months. I couldn't bring myself to admit to her the shitty fucking truth: when shifters go missing, they're never seen again.
"Kendrick have a plan?" Orion asks, his tone soft and measured. He's the calm eye in my storm—patient when I'm raging. Thoughtful when I'm reactive. People often underestimate my second. Of the two of us, he's the even-tempered one. Friendly and patient, standoffish but kind. If anything, that makes him more dangerous.
I shake my head, trying to clear away all the shit that weighs on me. My brother Silas. Kendrick. Lily. All the missing wolves. All the other wolves on our mountain, the ones I still need to protect.
"He thinks the witches are involved, but nothing concrete. If there were more of them…"
Unlike wolves, witches don't struggle with fertility issues. And yet, there are far fewer of them. They hoard their power, and having offspring means sharing—in their minds,diluting—their magic. While we build packs and communities, they scatter, forming small, isolated covens.
We've maintained an uneasy alliance with them for centuries, ever since we exposed our existence to the humans. Occasional conflicts arise, usually between witches and rogue wolves—easy targets—but generally, we respect territorial boundaries.
Kendrick believes the alliance is shifting. He's been saying it for years, that the witches are planning something. But they aren't organized like we are, and he had no proof, so I mostly dismissed it. I should know better than to ignore one of Kendrick's hunches.
