Page 19 of Chaos At Second Sight

“What is it?”

I had asked Lucien to take me home before nightfall but, too engrossed in our bubble of sparks, stolen eggs, and cuddles, I had forgotten about one tiny detail. My family.

When a line of mean-looking wolves emerged from the trees, I realized they hadn’t forgotten me.

“Oh no.”

It was my snarling uncles in their huge wolf forms, hackles raised. Grandpa approached behind them, his furrowed gray eyebrows looking like two furry caterpillars.

“Hello there, rionnag,” Grandma said pleasantly as she cocked her shotgun, its familiar noise now the sound of impending doom echoing throughout the clearing.

CHAPTER SIX

YVAINE

Iwasn’t sure whether to laugh, cry, or roll my eyes.

So I breathed in oxygen, performing the minimum task required for my body. My prefrontal cortex suggested, Take a mental picture. One day, this will be hilarious.

My uncles switched to their human forms the instant they spotted me. Fur retreated, paws lengthened into hands, and muzzles folded back into faces, as natural as the icy stream chattering over the stones nearby.

I met Uncle Clyde’s eyes. “How did you find us?”

“Easy.” His dark gaze slid to Lucien, narrowing. “We just followed the trail of dead sheep and the shouts of angry shepherds.”

Hansel and Gretel had breadcrumbs. Lucien? Carcasses.

“Aye, three crofters demanded the head of the beast that feasted on their lost coin,” Grandpa added stoically.

Lucien crouched around me, unleashing a nasty snarl. A tuft of his fur drifted into my mouth, making me cough. His growl stopped mid-rumble, and he looked down at me funnily, tilting his head to the left, one ear flopping sideways.

Uncle Clyde stepped forward, one fist striking his opposite palm with a crack. My eldest uncle—personal founder of the Yvaine’s Boyfriend Removal Department, one of Mom’s four brothers, and Co-Alpha with Grandpa—was the family’s hound. Before I was born, they had to lock him in a high-security prison to protect everyone else, no chains strong enough against his anger. When his twin brother died, something in him died too, and what remained tore the pack and its people apart. Only when his fated mate found him did he leave the abyss he had fallen into, though only partially. Some survive loss, while others learn to live with the monster it leaves behind. Uncle Clyde had done the latter.

He studied Lucien the way a butcher might inspect a sinewy cut of meat.

Unimpressed.

“Nighean òg,” he said without taking his eyes off my mate. “Step aside. We shall kill the bhiast properly.”

“Aye.” Uncle Angus nodded. “Then revive him and kill him again.”

“Let’s make it quick,” Uncle Knox added, checking the sky. “Kickoff’s in an hour.”

“We may have time to stop at Keith’s first.” Angus scratched his beard thoughtfully. “Venison gut sandwiches today.”

My mind zeroed in on kill, not in a metaphorical sense. My uncles always chatted and teased like that before a slaughter.

“Excuse me! Nobody is killing anyone. Lucien is my ma⁠—”

A furry hand covered my mouth.

“They’re my family, Lucy,” I said, my voice muffled.

“No.” One claw tapped his chest. “Lucien is family.”

“But that doesn’t mean⁠—”

Uncle Angus clapped once. “Let’s take Yvaine away from it.”