“Which was?”
“He destabilized the realm’s boundaries. Started small—just enough to slip between worlds undetected. Then he began experimenting.” Rafe’s eyes darken. “My pack paid the price when one of those experiments went wrong.”
Callum approaches from behind, keeping distance but close enough to hear. I don’t acknowledge him, keeping my focus on Rafe.
“You’re saying Faelan’s responsible for the portal instability,” I say.
“I’m saying it’s not random. It’s calculated.” Rafe uncrosses his arms. “And I’m saying I’ve seen what happens when he succeeds. You think you’ve got problems now? Wait until he tears down the barriers completely.”
“Why should I believe you?”
“You shouldn’t. Not yet.” He nods toward the trees. “But Nova does. She’s seen enough to know I’m right.”
I bristle at his mention of Nova. “You don’t know anything about her.”
“I know she carries fae blood. I know she’s been tracking the same energy signatures I have.” His voice drops. “And I know she’s the reason you’re still listening instead of trying to rip my throat out.”
Callum shifts position, ready to move if needed. I hold up a hand, stopping him.
“What do you want from us?” I ask Rafe.
“Fighters who won’t back down when it matters.” He holds my gaze. “I was Alpha once. I don’t want your pack. I want your help stopping what’s coming.”
“I’ve been tracking a pattern,” Rafe continues grimly. “Disappearances in Drakoria that didn’t make sense until I started connecting bloodlines. Faelan targets supernatural heritage with precision. I was still gathering evidence when his trail led me here. Your pack has more concentrated potential targets than he probably expected to find.”
I don’t like the connection he’s drawing. Don’t like how easily he reads the situation. But I need information more than I need dominance right now.
“What happened to your pack?” I ask.
His expression doesn’t change, but something shutters behind his eyes. “They’re gone.”
Two words carrying the weight of an entire history I can’t access. Yet.
Rafe steps back, breaking the tension. “Your wolf on the northeast post should stay alert. Nova won’t stick to the expected path.”
Then he turns and walks away, back toward the lodge. Not asking permission. Not pushing boundaries. Just stating facts he shouldn’t know about territory that isn’t his.
The lodge door closes behind him. I stand alone at the edge of the compound. Still holding my ground. Still Alpha.
But rattled all the same.
I need to address the pack. The fractures aren’t healing on their own.
I head back inside. Three faces turn when I push through the door. Ben stands by the window, back straight, eyes careful. Marcus leans against the table, arms crossed tight over his chest, fingers digging into his biceps. Callum stands behind a chair, knuckles white on its back, jaw set like concrete.
Not a pack meeting. Something smaller. A conversation that stopped the moment I walked in.
“You walked the ridge,” Marcus says. Not a question. An observation with teeth.
I nod once, taking the center of the room. Standing, not sitting. “Eastern quadrant’s clear.”
“And Nova?” Marcus asks.
“Checking her markers.” Half-truth. Better than nothing.
Ben’s gaze settles on my face, reading more than I want him to see. He says nothing, just watches with that quiet assessment that catches everything.
“The pack’s on edge,” Marcus continues, and there’s something careful in his tone now. Testing. “Since Phil showed up, since that woman—“
