And Corin was going to find them.
Part of her wanted to call him back. To tell him to be careful, to not do anything reckless, to let the Council handle it. But a darker part, a part she didn't want to examine too closely, was glad.
Glad that someone cared enough to be angry on her behalf. Glad that she wasn't facing this alone.
She sank onto the stool in Freya's workroom and wrapped her hands around the warm mug that appeared in front of her. The tea smelled like chamomile and honey. Corin's honey, probably. Everything in this town seemed to connect back to him somehow.
"Drink," Freya said. "I'll check on you in a few minutes."
Chloe drank. The warmth spread through her chest, pushing back the cold that had settled there since her collapse.
Somewhere out there, Corin was hunting, hunting for her sake. And that, along with the tea, made her insides begin to warm.
20
CORIN
He didn't remember the drive to the well.
One moment he was walking away from Freya's shop, Chloe's pale face burned into his memory. The next he was standing near the clearing, staring at the crumbling stones that had caused all of this.
The image wouldn't leave him. Chloe on the ground, skin white as paper, trembling like something had tried to rip the life right out of her. The way she'd described it: pulling, draining, reaching for something in her blood.
Someone had purposely done this to her. Had broken this seal and let old poison bleed into the land, knowing it would hurt people. Knowing it might kill them. And now that poison was targeting his mate, trying to use her as some kind of conduit for whatever twisted purpose they had in mind.
His bear surged forward with a roar he couldn't contain. The shift tore through him, faster and more violent than any he'd experienced before. He didn't ease into it. He exploded. One heartbeat he was human, the next he was an enraged grizzly, claws tearing at the frozen ground as he charged toward the well.
The first swipe of his massive paw sent stones flying. Ancient mortar crumbled like dust. He roared again, the sound echoing through the trees, and brought both paws down on the collapsed wooden cover.
Splinters. Debris. The satisfying crunch of destruction. But it wasn't enough.
He wanted to tear the whole thing apart and dig down to the source of the poison, then rip it out with his teeth. Wanted to find whoever had done this and make them understand what it felt like to have something precious threatened.
He slammed his body against the stone wall, feeling it shift, feeling centuries-old masonry crack beneath his weight. Again. Again. Blood matted the fur on his shoulder where a sharp edge caught him, but he didn't care. The pain was distant, meaningless, drowned out by the red haze of rage.
"Corin!"
The voice cut through his fury with submission to such a command from an alpha of his clan.
Elias.
His cousin stood in the clearing, still in human form, his silver-gray eyes taking in the destruction with grim assessment. He didn't look surprised. Just tired.
"That's enough."
Corin's bear snarled, muscles coiled to strike again.
"I said enough." Elias's voice dropped, taking on the particular resonance that alphas used when they meant business. "You're not going to fix anything by tearing that well apart. All you're doing is destroying evidence."
Evidence.
The word penetrated the haze, bringing with it a flicker of rationality. Corin stood there, massive chest heaving, blood dripping from his shoulder, and tried to remember why he'd come here in the first place.
To find answers. Not to make things worse.
His bear fought the leash, wanting to keep destroying, keep raging, keep doing something other than standing helpless while Chloe suffered. But Corin forced it down, breath by breath, until the red faded from his vision and he could think again and shifted back.
The cold hit him immediately, biting into bare skin, but he barely noticed. He stood in the wreckage of his own making, surrounded by scattered stones and splintered wood, and felt the shame creep in to replace the anger.
