“Thank you. For helping me, and for saving my sweet butt. I will start analyzing the samples tomorrow. I can let you know the data I get from it. If you want. Somehow. Not sure how, actually. But you can come by the shop if you want, I’m always there. Well, often, not always.”Sweet lord, stop talking.“Anyway. Thank you. And I will see you... around.”
She turned to open the car door, then turned back when a thought occurred in her already scrambled brain. “Do you need help with anything? Like, opening the car or something? ‘Cause, paws?”
Silence.
She distinctly felt her soul try to leave her body. “Never mind. Just realized you’re waiting for me to leave so you can shift back and... open the car door. With your hands. So. I’ll go. And thank you again.”
And she drove home with the knowledge of how deeply, sadly, disturbingly dumb she could be.
Chapter 4
Fire season officially started mid-April in Washington State, but in reality, it was more of a vibe you caught when everything got a little too crunchy. They weren’t there yet this year; the forest looked lush and green, but Rex knew better. One lightning strike, one idiot with a cigarette. One spark in the wrong patch of deadfall, and the whole ridge would go up like it had been waiting for it.
He and Owen had been moving through the east sector since 4:30 a.m., when the sky was just starting to pale, flagging high-risk zones—deadfall stacked too thick, pine needles layered like kindling, old campsites where fire rings hadn’t been properly cleared. Owen marked coordinates on the tablet while Rex used the Pulaski to break apart a rotting log that would burn fast and mean if it caught.
Owen finally glanced at him. “What is up, Rex? And I’m not talking about the weather.”
Damn the boy. He had a connection with the entire pack, but with Owen, his Beta, that went deeper, closer to telepathy. Deep enough to be a pain in his ass right now. “What do you mean?”
Owen just stared.
Rex brought the Pulaski down on a dense patch of brambles with unnecessary violence.
Owen raised an eyebrow.
“The fuel load is wrong this year.”
“Nice try.”
He looked around, reached deep into himself where the call of the forest sang to him. Where it used to, at least. Becausethere was a... disturbance now, something that quieted it, and not knowing what that was drove him insane. “It feels different.”
“The forest?”
Amongst other things.“Yeah.”
Owen nodded. “There are parts that feel distant. Disconnected. We should talk with Aryon and Elara. If something is wrong with the forest, they might know.”
“I did. Nothing came up. They are exhausted, but it’s not unexpected this close to Letha.”
Owen sat on a fallen log and took a long drink from his water bottle. “So it’s just us?”
“Us, the animals, and one human.”
A human who had crowded his mind way too much.
“Zoe Greenwood?” Owen asked.
“The one and only.”
“Didn’t you go with her to pick plants or something last week?”
“I did.”
Pause. Then Owen lifted his head slightly and stretched his palms up, sporting a look that said,I’m waiting.“And?”
“And nothing. I took her, she got plants, and I assume she tested them. End of story.”
“You’re telling me you,you, didn’t follow up with the only other person who acknowledges something is happening. That’s sus as hell, bro.”
