She eased around me and strode toward the door. “I need to see what’s inside.”
I caught up in three strides, my wolf snarling that she needed to let me go first. This was too dangerous.
But she was right. We needed to see what was in that greenhouse.
She pushed the door open.
The interior hit me with warmth and humidity, spelled conditions that maintained perfect growing temperatures regardless of the weather outside. Expensive magic. The kind that required regular maintenance and significant resources.
The bear shifter stood in the center, enormous as all bears were, his paws full of potted plants. He froze when we entered, his expression going through several stages before landing on guilty.
He tried to slide a tray of plants behind a larger specimen. A bear hiding plants from a wolf king?
My brain tried to process what I was seeing and came up empty.
A pot wobbled and nearly fell. He caught it, hugging it against his chest like it was precious.
Victoria stepped forward, her notebook already open, her enchanted pen hovering above it. She began dictating.
“Greenhouse interior: temperature-controlled environment, spelled for consistent conditions. A simple spell. I don’t sensewitch involvement. Multiple plant varieties present, organized by species and growth stage. Evidence of regular maintenance and proper horticultural technique.”
The pen flew across the page, recording every word.
She moved closer to the tray the bear had tried to hide, leaning down to examine the contents, and her expression changed from recognition to understanding.
“Duskburst,” she gulped out. “Multiple specimens. Properly potted in ideal soil with correct drainage and sun exposure.” She touched one of the leaves, tracing the purple and white petals. “These are healthy and well-tended.”
The bear eased his weight from one foot to the other, looking like he wanted to bolt but couldn’t quite bring himself to abandon the plants.
I looked at the plants, then at the bear, then back at the plants. Something wasn’t adding up. If he’d grown these and understood duskburst well enough for this, then the placement at the seal site?—
Acorn scampered over and stopped beside Victoria, chittering.
“Acorn says the one who tends a thing with care may not have planted it wrong elsewhere,” she said, the observation knocking me sideways.
If this bear understood proper duskburst cultivation, why would he plant them incorrectly at the seal site? These plants were perfect.
Unless he hadn’t planted them at all.
Victoria looked up at the bear, her expression thoughtful. “Did you visit the creek near the eastern boundary of my husband’s territory a few days ago?”
The bear’s eyes widened. His scent changed, spiking with fear mixed with shame. Turning, he dropped to all fours andbolted for the back entrance. The door banged open, and he disappeared into the trees beyond.
“Chase him.” Victoria started in that direction.
I caught her arm. “No.”
“But—”
“He’s scared.” I looked around the greenhouse again. “Chasing him through Bastian’s compound would start a fight I’m not ready to finish yet.”
She nodded, her gaze moving back to the plants. I could see her mind working, connecting pieces and building theories.
“Someone either stole some of these plants and placed them at the seal site or they convinced him to do it without telling him how or why.”
“Or they told him to do it wrong on purpose.”
“If he takes care of all this, he knows plants. Why would he agree to something like that?”
