The witches operate in tight-knit covens, making them harder to infiltrate or monitor. They don't gather in large numbers like we do. But something's gotta change. My wolf senses it, too—he's restless, hackles raised.
"Kendrick's scouts are tracking Deidre's coven," I finally say. "She's hanging around Ontario, these days. North of the lakes."
Orion whistles. "Haven't heard that name in a minute."
"Haven't seen her since the Depression. She was selling prosperity spells to humans at twenty bucks a pop, when most people couldn't afford bread." Twenty bucks was a lifeline backthen. She hasn't changed much, or so I've heard. Still amassing power through subterfuge and hustle. It isn't so much that Deidre is the most powerful witch in existence—though she's close—it's that she's willing to do anything if it means staying on top. "Her coven vanished after that."
"He thinks she's involved, then?"
"If anyone's powerful enough to organize an attack against the wolves, it's her."
"They rarely organize, though."
"Doesn't mean they won't." I let the threat hang between us, because that's exactly what it is. We can't wait for all the other Lunes in this country to get their shit together. Something must be done, soon.Now.
Alone, witches are no match for a shifter, especially wolves. We are stronger, faster, bloodier—far more vicious. But if they're working together? Especially after years of hoarding power? One spell, one incantation with the strength of a coven, and they could do some serious damage.
There's a bang on the front door. Staring down at the game, contemplating my next move, I say, "Come in," though I don't yell it. I can smell them from here; three of my enforcers, and with their shifter hearing, they'll have heard the invitation.
The door opens, and as their scents precede them, Eli, Andrea, and Stance amble in. Stance follows Andrea's lead. As much as he'd love to dominate her, it'll never happen. Eli's eyes casually dart around the room before landing on me.
I sip my whiskey, tasting the sweet burn on my lips. Takes a lot more to get shifters drunk, but I enjoy the flavor. When I was young, my father would test me and my brother when we drank or ate food. He'd drop dinner on our plates, and we weren't allowed to touch it until we could identify it. Silas hated the game. Thought it was boring, a waste of time. I loved it. Elk, aged two, resided primarily in the north woods. Recent meal,mushrooms. Glass of goat's milk, three days old, collected by Hilde, the pack's head cook. And so on. It was a fun game and helped me hone my hunting skills. Though I do it less with my meals these days, I still enjoy the challenge.
I swirl the glass in my hand. Whiskey. Kentucky spring water, likely near the Outer Bluegrass. Human distillery, heavy on the rye. Aged twelve years. Hints of red wine.
My three enforcers express patience, though Andrea is slightly agitated.
I glance up at her. Orion rolls his eyes, offering a slight, admonishing shake of his head. He knows better than to tell me what to do, but in this instance, he's right. I managed to extricate myself from Andrea nearly six months ago, and if I fuck her one more time, she'll be even harder to shake off. Still, she's an attractive female, and she knows it.
"Speak."
Andrea opens her mouth to explain, but Eli cuts her off. They're both alphas, but Eli ranks higher, so she quiets.
"A new scent on the perimeter. Hilde mentioned it in the dining hall, she caught it when she was out foraging this morning. Shifter, female, unknown."
Every wolf in Silent Peak carries our clan's scent—all few thousand of us. And our territory spans nearly two hundred square miles in Northern Maine, west of Baxter, near the Canadian border, with our community nestled halfway up the mountain. No oneaccidentallywanders this deep into shifter territory. And you don't sneak up on shifters. You arrive at our door and ask permission to hunt, for passage, for clan membership.
Eli continues, "Hilde didn't sense anything nefarious, but after she mentioned it, I went out and picked up the scent closer to our lands, about five miles south of here."
Andrea snarls, flexing her fists at her sides. Now I see why she's agitated. The suggestion of an unknown female shifter in our territory has triggered her territorial instincts. Her position as highest-ranking female comes with its own politics, and a new female wolf would set her off—potential rival or not. Andrea's always been a bit of a hothead. We're too much alike in that regard. React first, ask questions later.
"Unmated?" I ask.
"Couldn't tell. It was…" Eli's militant posture falters. It's slight, but to me and Orion, it might as well be a flashing neon sign. He takes too long to continue, making me even more suspicious. "It was odd. There's something different about her scent. Almost… sweet? But until I find her…"
Damn near proof enough that something's off.
Orion and I make eye contact, and he lifts one eyebrow subtly. We're wondering the same thing.
"You scent any witches?"
Eli masks his surprise. Kendrick voiced his concerns with me, but I haven't discussed them with anyone but Orion. We've tightened security this past year—not entirely due to Kendrick's warnings, but we all sensed something shifting, especially after Lily's disappearance.
"Witches?" he clarifies.
"Just keep an eye out. If you scent anything else unusual."
"You think there are witches on our lands?" Andrea asks, her eyes wide and excited.
