CONTENTS

Keep in touch with Debbie

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Other books by Debbie Cassidy

About the Author

Copyright © 2021, Debbie Cassidy

All Rights Reserved

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, duplicated, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

Cover by Covers by Juan

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1

BACK THEN

It was happening, and I was late. I flew across the courtyard, boots slapping slabs in a sprint toward the gray stone clock tower. It rose up regally to greet me, forbidding in its majesty and totally off limits, but we’d made a copy of the key six months ago.

We. The trio, as we liked to call ourselves. Okay, it was a crappy name for our group, but it was more of a placeholder until we came up with something better. I rounded the tower, and sure enough, the door was ajar, propped open with a wooden wedge. Orina’s wedge, no doubt. That girl was always prepared.

I slipped through the gap and kicked out the wedge, allowing the door to close behind me, then headed up the steps. So many steps.

A regular human would have been winded by the relentless climb, but my Lycan genes gave me super stamina. Those same Lycan senses were able to pick up voices coming from way above me.

“She’s gonna miss it,” Orina said.

I imagined her checking her watch.

“She’ll be here,” Nyx replied in her habitual bored drawl.

“I’m telling you, she fell asleep again. Seriously, Lycan puberty sucks.”

“We should have arranged to pick her up.”

“What? And tip Keller off that we’re up to something? The old bag’s been trying to catch us out in some kind of transgression for weeks.”

I was at the door to the clock room now.

“You did paint her cat blue,” Nyx pointed out with a chuckle.

“It was pretty.” There was a wicked edge to Orina’s tone.

I shoved open the door and made my entrance. “Boom, baby.”

“Finally,” Nyx said from her perch on the window ledge directly beneath the huge clock.

The cogs of the monolithic timepiece were visible above us, turning, ticking, and grinding, a comforting sound that I’d learned to tune out.

This floor was all ledges and stone pillars, no glass to keep the warm summer air at bay. It flowed freely, lifting my hair off my sweaty brow and nape in a welcome kiss.

“Hey, sorry I’m late.”

“Nah, Quinn, you’re just in time.” Orina grinned.

A low growl tickled the hair at my nape. I didn’t need to look into the shadows to know that I’d find Nyx’s creepy-ass pet dog. The beast was huge, monstrous, and bad-tempered to anyone who wasn’t Nyx. How she’d been allowed to bring it to the Ministry with her was a mystery.

Ignoring the beast and the way my hackles rose at its presence, I hurried over to the ledge to look out at the world beyond. Bathed in silvery moonlight, the Ministry grounds were a network of buildings connected by winding tracks, hexagonal gazebos, and squares of neatly trimmed lawn.

This was a place of knowledge and education, a place where supernaturals of all breeds came together to learn, not only about the world but about each other. It was a decade-old initiative to bring about peace, and maybe…maybe it had contributed to what was about to happen tonight. I mean, I was here with my two best friends, one who happened to have demon blood and the other who belonged to an ancient order of mystical hunters. I’d resisted being sent here by my pack, fought it even, but now…Now I couldn’t be more grateful, because these young women were my heart.

“God, it’s so quiet,” Nyx said softly, almost reverently.

Deceptive, because tonight was an auspicious night and the whole city was awake. Tonight would go down in history as the night our world was remade. Tonight marked a truce between the Lycan, vampire, and demon races.

These three supernatural races had been at war for decades, leaving humans and other supernaturals caught in the crossfire, but tonight was the signing of the Accords. The magically binding contract would give the three largest supernatural races their own territories and rights, eliminating the turf wars and bloodshed, and humans…well, they didn’t get much of a say. They’d affiliate to the race whose territory they resided in and be under House Raventhorn, Dracul, or Morningstar rule.

“It’s almost time,” Orina said.

My pulse quickened as the sky was fractured by lightning. The air crackled and pricked at my skin.

“You feel that?” Nyx asked. “Damn, that’s strong.”

My friends flanked me as the midnight-blue sky bloomed with color. Burnt orange, poppy red, and lapis-lazuli blue bled into the atmosphere, mingling and twining.

I held my breath as the colors brightened to hues so vivid they made my preternatural eyes ache, but there was no looking away. This was history being made.

This was a new world being forged. “Shit, it’s beautiful.”

The colors hovered high above. Any moment now…

A crack like thunder ripped the air and the colors sliced down toward the earth. My skin buzzed, teeth vibrating as the boundaries were born, seared into the earth by powerful Mageri magic.

The world trembled and the air shimmered as land mass physically shifted.

“Look!” Nyx pointed into the distance toward the River Triton.

The water frothed and churned as a huge hunk of land broke from the mainland and sliced through it, coming to a halt to create an island. A golden bridge materialized, stretching across the river to anchor the island to the mainland.

“Morningstar territory,” Orina said softly.

“Lycan!” Nyx grabbed my arm and pointed again.

I followed her gaze to see a blue haze settle far to the east where the rural lands began.

“Dracul is west,” Orina added.

Nyx pulled a rolled-up parchment from her back pocket and shook it open before pressing it to the stone ledge and smoothing it out.

Words were scrawled across it in her messy, scratchy handwriting, and smudges of ink decorated the edges of the paper. Yeah, quill and ink were messy and not her forte—heck, they were no one’s forte—but the Ministry insisted we use them.

The Sisterhood Pact

Today on the first day of the sixth month the Sisterhood is formed.

We promise to have each other’s backs.

If one calls the others will come.

The Sisterhood above all else.

A lump formed in my throat. “This is…It’s perfect.”

She pulled a biro from her pocket, followed by a switch blade. “It’s a blood-and-ink contract. Got to sign it in both.”

I took the biro. “If we do this, then it’s for real. No backing out, agreed?”

“Agreed,” they said in unison.

As the Mageri magic settled over the land, and as our world was remade, our own contract of friendship and loyalty was forged.

Signed and sealed in blood.

2

NOW

Tate’s hair slipped through my fingers as I attempted to pull it into a tiny bunch. Damn, he had silky locks, but I had this down to an art. The second attempt and I managed to get the hair tie in, then sat back to survey my handiwork. The top of his head was arranged in neat bunches any mother would be proud of. Except Tate wasn’t my kid, he was a grown-ass man. A very large, muscular man sitting on the carpet, long legs stretched out, back against the sofa, nose buried in a book that looked like it had been retrieved from some ancient tomb.

I ran my palm across the little fountains of hair sticking up from the neat bunches and sighed with satisfaction. Doing his hair always soothed the squirrelly feeling in my belly.

“Feel better now?” Tate asked in his grumbly, growly tone.

These were the first words he’d spoken to me in an hour, and like always, the sound of his voice was a panacea to my anxiety.

“Much, thank you.” I flopped onto my side across the sofa and studied his profile. “Watcha reading?”

“A book.”

“I can see that, but what’s it about?”

His nostrils flared slightly, the only sign he was annoyed at the interruption to his study time. “Do you really care?”

I flicked his earlobe lightly. “Nope, but I like it when you talk.”

He closed the book with an audible sigh. “Go make popcorn and we’ll watch the movie you brought round.”

I sat up with a wicked grin. “You’ll watch Pride and Prejudice with me?”

“Yes, Quinn, I’ll watch the damn movie. Now hush.”

I pressed a kiss to his temple, just above the arm of his spectacles, and then scrambled off the sofa and into the kitchen before he could change his mind. Thing with Tate was, he wasn’t big on talking and would do anything to avoid it, even if it meant watching a movie he didn’t want to.

Yeah, I used that knowledge to my advantage sometimes, like tonight, when I needed some mindless movie time with my bestie, watching romance and angst that I knew would end in happily ever after, because my life…Heck, my life was a series of question marks right now.

Popcorn popped in the microwave. Where was the bowl? Ah, there it was, shoved in the cupboard with the mugs. For someone with such an intelligent and orderly mind, Tate was a total mess when it came to organizing his home. I often found the coffee in the fridge and the milk in the cupboard. His home was clean, but it was far from tidy, littered with books and scrolls. It was as if all his mental energy went into devouring knowledge, and there was none left for interacting with the outside world. But there was always a little energy for me, and I loved him for that.

The microwave pinged. Popcorn was ready. Time for the movie.

I felt him enter the kitchen as I poured the delicious corn goodness into the bowl.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Tate asked softly from the doorway.

My pulse skipped, but I had my emotions in control in a beat. I shot him a grin over my shoulder. “Oh, so now you want to talk.”

He gave me the look. The one that sliced through my bullshit. “I don’t want to talk, Quinn, I want to listen.”

Who was I kidding? I’d come round for this very reason. Admittedly, I’d expected to get through the movie before we got to this point, but now we were here…

“It’s Ward.”

Tate leaned his shoulder against the doorframe and crossed his arms over his chest. My buddy was a tank, a big scary tank with a growly voice, don’t-fuck-with-me scowl, and an intense way of looking at people that had them backing up, turning tail, and running. He could happily clear a room by walking into it. But I saw the other side of Tate. The side that gave a shit, that wanted to help, that would break heads to keep me safe, and right now he was looking at me with soft brown eyes filled with empathy, because Ward… well, Ward was a regular topic of disconcertion for me.

“Tell me.”

I leaned back against the counter and puffed out my cheeks. “I think he’s pulling away. I mean, since we…”

Tate’s jaw ticked. “Since you had sex with him.”

My cheeks flushed, and I covered my face with my hands. “Tate, I don’t understand.”

“What has he said?”

“Nothing. I mean, that’s the point. He hasn’t called or texted for two days.”

“Could be pack business?”

“Yeah.”

“If it isn’t, if he is giving you the run-around, I’ll break his face.”

“No!” My pulse fluttered in panic.

Tate stared at me, calm and resolute. Fuck, he would do it. He would totally go up against Ward, and in doing so he’d get himself killed. I needed to learn to keep my big mouth shut.

“Tate, you can’t get into an altercation with the alpha’s son.”

Ward Swiftwood was the alpha’s youngest son and my mate. We’d found each other ten years ago when I’d hit puberty. Ward had been sixteen at the time. I remembered being stunned that I, a Lycan who was part human, could be mated to the alpha’s son.

Matings were sacred, important to the survival of the pack because they were said to produce strong offspring, but the official mating ceremony that cemented the soul bond didn’t take place until both Lycans were adults, in our case twenty-one. I’d been twenty-one for three years now, and each year the ceremony had been put off for some reason or other. I’d accepted the excuses because, fuck, I loved the guy, but I’d held off on consummating our relationship because it was the only thing I could control.

Until last weekend.

I’d given in last weekend and now…Now Ward was ghosting me.

I felt sick.

And Tate had that look in his eye. The Hulk smash look, which was great when we were on a job, but not now.

“Tate…”

Tate ducked his head for a long beat, and when he raised his eyes to meet mine, the rage was gone. “He’s your mate, Quinn. He won’t abandon you.”

The knot in my chest eased a little. “Yeah.”

But there was always that tiny voice of doubt in the back of my mind that whispered otherwise. If only I could stab it in the gut like I’d done the rogue Lycan who’d refused to pay his debt to Swiftwood Pack. Or punch it in the face like I’d done the minor demon who’d stolen from us. But doubt and insecurities weren’t so easily defeated.

“He’ll call,” Tate said. “And if he doesn’t, I’ll pay him a visit.”

I opened my mouth to protest.

“Friend to friend,” Tate added.

The tight muscles in my shoulders relaxed. It was okay. It was all going to be okay.

I smiled teasingly. “For someone who didn’t want to talk, you’ve just done an awful lot of gabbing.”

He shook his head. “Only you, Quinn, only you.” He turned away. “Bring the popcorn and grab me a Coke too. I figure I’m gonna need the caffeine to stay awake.”

MY PHONE BUZZED HALFWAY through the movie. Tate lay with his head in my lap, snoring softly, spectacles askew. I answered quickly, not wanting to wake him.

“Hey.” Ward’s dulcet tones made my pulse quicken. “I got your messages. I’m sorry I couldn’t call sooner.”

An apology. That was good, right? “It’s cool. I was just checking in.” Good, Quinn, keep it casual. “Is everything okay?”

A moment of hesitation, then, “Pack business with Dad and…and Jay. I’m home now. I’d like to see you tomorrow, if that’s okay?”

He’d been with his older brother Jay and his father. I couldn’t be pissed about that. He sounded sincere. He sounded tired and something else I wasn’t able to define.

I had a job tomorrow, but if I could wrap it up early… “I’d love to.”

“I’ll be round at seven.” The line went dead.

Typical Ward, hanging up as soon as he was done. It used to bother me, but not anymore. I was used to his ways now. Some might even say conditioned.

No, shut up, voice of darkness.

But seriously, what gave him the right to treat me this way? We’d had sex for the first time, and he’d pissed off on pack business without giving me a heads-up, and how hard was it to drop a text to say, babe, I’m okay, miss you, see you soon?

And why the fuck was I arguing with myself. This was all stuff I should have said to him. But doing that meant risking unleashing the other side of my personality. The part reserved for the enforcement jobs. The dark, twisted part of me that liked to jab, stab, and tear into people.

He didn’t deserve that.

Liar.

Okay, let me rephrase. I didn’t want him to see me like that.

My upper arm tingled, and I rubbed at it absently through my shirt. The tingle was a reminder of the madness held at bay. An inheritance of my dual nature.

It was nothing new to be born of a human. Several Lycans in the pack had human mothers or fathers. But every single one of them was born full Lycan, able to shift and access their full potential. But me…I was an anomaly. A Lycan who couldn’t shift. I’d inherited the reflexes and preternatural senses, but I was nowhere near as strong as my brethren. Instead, I was cursed with madness, a darkness that had almost claimed me over a decade ago.

My memory of those weeks was fuzzy and distant, but I clearly recalled waking up to pain in my arm as a wizened man tattooed symbols into my skin. Father explained that the symbols were a shield to keep the madness at bay.

A madness he said was passed to me from the human mother I’d never known.

Thanks for the crazy, Mom. My father had saved me, so you’d have thought it would bring us closer, but no, it seemed to drive a wedge between us to the point we barely hung out anymore.

The only contact we had now was when he called to give me my next enforcement job.

Tate moaned softly in his sleep, and I swept his hair back from his forehead. “At least I have you.”

He mumbled something that sounded awfully like “Mr. Darcy.”

Sweet dreams, buddy.

I planted a kiss on the side of his face, then slid out from under him, replacing my lap with a pillow. I carefully took off his glasses and popped them on the coffee table where he’d find them easily in the morning. He’d sleep till dawn, but there’d be no sleep for me. Not yet.

Nighttime was when my senses came alive.

It was time to run.

3

I may not have been able to shift, but at night the sleeping Lycan would wake and press against my skin in an itch and a buzz that only running could assuage. Luckily, I was surrounded by the space to indulge.

Every pack in Lycan territory was under House Raventhorn rule. You accepted what the high alpha gave you and you stayed on his good side. I’d heard plenty of stories to know that you didn’t cross the high alpha and live to tell the tale.

Swiftwood Pack owned thirty acres of rural land inhabited by deer and all kinds of wildlife. The Lycans lived off the land, running and hunting freely, and our humans made sure to keep to their farms on the outskirts of pack hunting ground.

The humans that lived in our territory were affiliated to Swiftwood, either by residence or familial connection. I wasn’t the only Lycan born of a human; there were several others, and their fathers and mothers lived on the east side of Swiftwood territory in pack housing provided by the alpha. It was a community all of its own, and as a child I recalled spending many hours amidst them. I’d had several human babysitters, and then there’d been Tate, the only human child east side.

Yeah, our slice of the territory pie wasn’t as large as some of the other packs in Lycan domain, but it was ours.

As I sprinted through the woods, avoiding fallen branches and weaving through the trees painted silver by the moonlight, the pressure under my skin ebbed a little. The buzz retreated, leaving me able to appreciate the nature surrounding me. The world was bright viewed through my preternatural senses, and I navigated the terrain easily, running shoes barely touching the ground as I sliced through the forest.

I might not have four legs, but I was fucking fast, I’d made sure of it, honing my human body to compensate for the lack of a wolf form with years of training. No Lycan could wield a blade like me, shoot a gun or an arrow as accurately as I could. I was a wily foe in hand-to-hand combat, and even the pack members who felt I didn’t belong had been forced to accept me as one of their own when I’d won the pack enforcement contract.

It didn’t matter what the naysayers whispered. My appointment had nothing to do with being the beta’s daughter or the alpha’s son’s mate. I’d earned my place and I did a damn good—

Crack.

What was that interrupting my riveting inner monologue? My pace slowed as my body went into high alert, senses reaching out to scan the area. I caught the whiff of rabbit and the Lycan in me rose, begging me to chase.

No.

Not tonight.

Tonight, I had another destination in mind.

The clearing surrounded me a moment later, lush green land drenched in moonlight, and running through it like a silky dark ribbon was my river. I’d claimed this place as my sanctuary a decade ago. Something about this spot soothed both the Lycan and the darkness inside me. The summer heat clung to my skin in beads of perspiration. I kicked off my sneakers, anticipating the blessed cool kiss of the river, took a step, and froze.

When had the world gone so silent?

A sharp crack had my head whipping left, then the smell of Lycan hit me hard.

Unfamiliar.

Not pack.

Swiftwood land was out of bounds to outsiders. If another pack member was visiting, we’d have been alerted.

Which meant only one thing.

Rogue Lycan.

I fell into a defensive crouch, scanning the trees for the intruder. He had to be close. I needed to make a break for it, but first I needed to know where the fucker was, because without any weapons, I was at a serious disadvantage against a Lycan in wolf form. I did, however, have the advantage of knowing this land like the back of my hand.

If the fucker wanted to track me, then he’d be in for a surprise.

A low growl vibrated in the air and a huge black wolf melted out of the darkness, stepping into the light. It held its head low; not a skulk, but a menacing stance, snout crinkled, lips peeled back from gums and teeth.

I locked gazes with it. “This is Swiftwood Pack land. You’re trespassing.”

The growl intensified and it took another step, bringing it close enough to leap at me if it wished.

Its nostrils flared, probably smelling the human on me rather than the Lycan. I was an acquired scent, which made me an excellent enforcer, able to get close to a Lycan mark before he sensed a threat.

But right now, facing off with a rogue Lycan, my human scent was a distinct disadvantage, because these fuckers had no qualms about hunting humans.

Reasoning with a hungry rogue would be like getting a strict vegan to eat a leg of lamb.

Not happening.

As the Lycan leapt, I spun and ran in the opposite direction. I was lighter, faster, aware of my surroundings in a way this fucker wasn’t. These were my woods. My terrain. The delicate soles of my feet burned as they hammered over all manner of forest debris, but the pain was a peripheral annoyance masked by the adrenaline of prey and the focus of a strategist.

I couldn’t take this rogue down, but I’d lead it to Lycans who could.

Thursday night meant a campfire and barbeque at Joe’s. One of the oldest Lycans in the pack, Joe was well-respected and loved, so there’d be several Lycans there tonight, and it was exactly where I needed to go.

I veered left through the trees, aware of the beast at my back, nipping at my heels, panting and growling in frustration as it edged closer only to be left in my dust. A howl cut through the night air somewhere up ahead.

The beast behind me slowed its pace. Foreboding tickled my nape a moment before a huge gray shape appeared in my path.

I swerved to the left as it leapt. Fire sliced across my shoulder, knocking me off trajectory and forcing a stumble, but my momentum kept me going.

Two of them. Two rogues.

Shit.

My shoulder was the epicenter of pain and hot tears blurred my vision, but adrenaline kept the shock of injury at bay as I ran. Joe’s was a quarter of a mile away; as long as the wind didn’t change, they’d be able to pick up my scent soon, as well as that of the bastards on my tail.

Pain sliced through my foot, shooting up to lock my knee and draw a scream. There was something in my sole. I forced my leg to work, but fresh contact with the ground sent a lance of fire rocketing up my limb.

Oh, God. No.

The weight of a Lycan slammed into my back, and the ground rushed up to meet me.

JAWS CLAMPED AROUND MY SHOULDER, tearing a wild scream from my lips. My synapses lit up with agony, darkness edging my vision as my body begged to shut down, to shut off the pain, but if I did that I was as good as dead. Instead, I reached over my shoulder and dug my nails into its snout as hard as I could. My index finger met something soft and squidgy. The Lycan released me abruptly, letting out a roar.

Move.

My head swam, breath coming quicker as I commando-crawled forward. Paws appeared in front of me. Gray paws. The second wolf.

I raised my head to meet its ravenous black eyes. “You’re gonna die for this. They’ll kill you.”

Its open maw lunged at my face.

But the rogue never made it. A huge golden form slammed into it from the side, and I caught the flash of blue eyes. Ward…

He turned and took a step toward me, then shook himself and spun to attack the rogue.

More snarls meshed in the air behind me, and several familiar Lycan scents filled my head.

The pack was here. They were here. I needed to get up. To get out of the way, but my body refused to cooperate. Ice trickled through my veins, eating away at the heat of adrenaline, and then darkness claimed me.

“SHE’S COMING TO.”

Ward? I cracked open my eyes to find him hovering over me, baby blues filled with concern, lips pressed in a thin line that I’d come to associate with rage or impatience.

“Quinn, can you hear me?”

I was home, in my bedroom. I’d been somewhere else, though? Running and then… oh shit.

“Rogues.” I tried to sit up, and a sharp jab in my chest stole my breath.

“Easy. Take it easy.” Ward urged me to lie back down. “We got them. They’re dead.”

I closed my eyes beneath a rush of relief.

“Out of my way, pup,” a female voice ordered. “I need to finish dressing the wounds, unless you want your mate to die of an infection.”

Ward glanced at the speaker and then back to me, momentarily torn.

“I’m okay.” I offered him a smile.

He nodded, then pressed a kiss to my forehead and slipped away.

Another face replaced his. Kind and slightly wrinkled with warm nutmeg eyes and a smile that never failed to make me feel at home.

“There you are, Quinny. How’s the pain, love?” Luna asked.

As the pack healer, Luna was on call twenty-four seven. You’d think such a tiny, frail-looking lady would bow under such pressure, but looks were deceptive. Although human, Luna was a whirlwind force to be reckoned with when it came to her patients. She’d berated my father on more than one occasion, and I’d heard that even the alpha wasn’t brave enough to challenge Luna’s orders when it came to patient care.

“Does this hurt?” Luna asked, prodding at my shoulder.

“No.”

“Good. The herbs are working.” She stroked across my collarbone and over the bulb of my shoulder, applying gentle pressure. “These bandages will need changing tomorrow, but with your constitution you’ll be completely healed in a day or so.” She patted my cheek lightly. “You were brave tonight.”

“No, she wasn’t,” a gruff male voice corrected.

Ward made a sound of protest that cut off before it could form a word. Just as well, because the beta of Swiftwood Pack didn’t take kindly to being challenged, not even by his alpha’s offspring.

“She was stupid and reckless and could have been killed,” my father continued.

My hackles rose and a lump formed in my throat, anger spawning to life like twin flames behind my eyes. “Reckless for going for a run on pack land?” I turned my head to glare at him. He stood in the doorway, as if entering was beneath him, as if being in my home was a chore he’d rather not have to complete. “I mean, this is pack land, right? Those were rogue Lycans. What were they even doing on our land?”

He made a sound of exasperation. “Things are unstable right now. Winterhide Pack has integrated yet another smaller pack and expanded their territory, forcing rogues off free land. Swiftwood is easy pickings.”

This was news to me. “You mean there’ll be more attacks like this? More rogues?”

“Probably,” Ward said softly. “Father is making an announcement tomorrow. I should have warned you when we spoke earlier. This is my fault.”

His tone was thick with regret, and the desire to absolve him was instinctual.

“No. Don’t do that. You weren’t to know.”

His throat bobbed. “You could have been killed, Quinn. If I hadn’t felt you…”

“You felt me?”

“I can’t explain it. I just knew you were in danger.”

“Your mate bond is growing,” my father said, but his tone suggested he was upset by that fact, as if it was an undesirable thing.

Ward looked over at him, and something passed between them that I couldn’t decipher.

“What is it? What aren’t you telling me?”

“You’ll stay here on the human settlement until the pack has secured the perimeters of our land.” My father snapped out the order.

Wait a second. “You can’t ban me from pack land.”

His growl was a sound I recalled from childhood, inhuman and frightening when coming from a man, and just like then, it evoked a visceral fear and primitive need to obey.

“You will do as you’re told, child. Stick to the role assigned to you and leave the politics to the elders.” His attention sliced to Ward. “Your father will expect to be updated. Now.”

Ward’s jaw set mulishly, a sign he was about to argue, but then he exhaled heavily and nodded. “Yes. Of course.” He glanced back at me, and there was such a dark sadness in his eyes that fear grew claws in my chest. “I’ll see you tomorrow night, Quinn. We’ll talk then.”

He strode out of the room, leaving me with Luna.

Moths of disconcertion beat their wings inside my chest. “Something’s not right, Luna.”

Luna smoothed back my hair. “I know, Quinny, I feel it too.”

Bootfalls echoed up the steps and then Tate barreled into the room, bringing the scent of summer rain with him. His hair was still in bunches, wet bunches now, and his face was beaded with water, glasses fogged up. His shirt clung to his chest, transparent and soaked.

“Quinn…oh, God.”

“She’ll be okay, boy. She’ll be okay,” Luna said.

Tate fell to his knees beside my bed, his panicked gaze going from me to Luna. “What can I do to help, Ma?”

Luna reached up to pluck the ties from his hair. “Go put on dry clothes and then make some tea.”

He swept his wet hair off his forehead and stood. “Yes. Tea is good.”

He stomped back out of the room, leaving wet bootprints in his wake, and my heart squeezed with love for him.

“You’ll be okay, Quinny,” Luna said. “Whatever happens, you’ll be okay.”

I looked into her wise, kind eyes, unable to shake the feeling that she was talking about more than just my injuries.

4

I surfaced from sleep mid-afternoon, bleary-eyed and aching. The painkilling effects of the herbs Luna had administered were wearing off. Shit, it was almost four. I needed to get my ass out of bed.

Getting dressed was slow, every muscle protested at being used, but like hell was I missing a job. I padded across the hall into my study—my haven of administrative bliss. My vision board was visible from my desk, hosting pictures of the locations I wanted to visit, occupied by gatherings of happy, laughing people. Regular paper contracts sat in an in-tray, ready to be signed by supernaturals doing business with the pack. Magical contracts were locked in a cabinet under my desk.

Enforcement wasn’t just about knocking heads and kicking ass; there was a whole admin side to it, executing warrants and leveraging items from supes who’d reneged on a deal or a debt. Swiftwood made its money by trading favors and providing muscle for jobs. We moved valuable items for high-paying clients, and we hired shoddy assholes to do the grunt work. It was the shoddy assholes that ended up being the problem.

I flipped open my diary and double-checked the address and nature of visit. This was a second visit. The first had been a beat-down. This one was a collection. The demon in question had messed up on a delivery of phoenix eggs—rare, highly prized items. To be honest I had no clue why Swiftwood had hired this douche to act as middleman anyway. Still, the client needed compensation and Swiftwood wasn’t about to pay it. It was up to me to squeeze the demon for money. I’d done that with the beat-down. Today was collection day.

Time to suit up.

I SHRUGGED on my badass leather dust kicker over my weapons holster. A twentieth birthday gift from my bestie, Nyx, this baby had been custom-made by a weaver from across the golden bridge. Weavers were lesser demons able to infuse materials with powerful properties. This jacket was more than waterproof, it was bullet-proof, arrow-proof, and claw-proof, so it was like wearing my own stylish body armor. It also happened to be made of the softest buttery leather, super comfy, and a shade of crimson so dark it could be worn with practically anything.

It made me look good, and appearance was everything in my business. I’d scraped my hair into a bun so the purple highlights were practically hidden, and rimmed my violet eyes in kohl to give myself a don’t-fuck-with-me look. I’d add the cold shark smile to my ensemble later.

I bent to grab my boots and winced as pain shot across my chest. Fucking bruising. Lycans were heavy and I was pretty sure I had a couple of fractured ribs. If I’d been pure Lycan those would have healed in an hour, but nope, I had to wait for days. Sucked to be me. Not to mention the wicked deep cut in the sole of my foot, along with all the other abrasions. Luna had pulled a shard of glass as long as my pinky out of my foot, part of a smashed beer bottle. Fucking pups and their sex campouts. The forest was sacred, meant to be kept free of unnatural debris.

Yeah, I’d be having words with the pack pups as soon as I could.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Tate asked from the lounge doorway.

Oh, fuck. Was he still here? He’d stayed the night to watch over me, made me breakfast, but then I’d fallen asleep again and woken to a silent house. I thought he’d left. I should have known better. Tate could move as silently as a mouse when he wanted to, no easy feat for such a big guy.

“Standing still won’t make you invisible, Quinn.”

Dickhead. I’d been five at the time. Five, and he’d pretended not to see me, so what the heck did he expect?

I plastered a smile on my face and turned to him. “I have a job, remember?”

His frown of confusion deepened to one of disapproval. “No. Not today.”

I rolled my eyes. “You can’t just say it and expect it to be so.”

He bridged the distance between us and plucked the boots from my hand. “Yes. I can.” He looked down at my bandaged feet. “Do you want to push your feet into boots right now?”

No. No, I didn’t, but delaying a job would look bad. It would make me look weak, and that was the last thing I needed right now. News of my attack would have spread throughout the pack; whispers about the almost-Lycan getting her ass handed to her would be rife. To delay an enforcement job would add fuel to the fire that I didn’t belong.

I lifted my chin. “A Lycan doesn’t shrink from a challenge.”

Tate stared at me levelly, and I could almost see the words scrolling across his forehead as he thought them.

“Don’t you dare fucking say it, Tate.”

“I don’t need to. You know your limits.”

Limits were made to be tested. “I can do this.”

He sighed. “In that case, I’m coming with you.”

The tightness in my chest eased. “I don’t need you. I can handle this. It’s a simple pickup.”

“Yeah? I know. But someone’s got to carry you home afterwards, you know, when your feet start screaming.”

My eyes heated and a stupid lump formed in my throat. No way was I gonna cry, no matter how uber sweet that was.

Instead, I put on a coquettish expression and fluttered my lashes at him. “My gallant knight. You’d do that for me?”

I expected him to tell me to shut it, but he looked me square in the eyes, dead serious. “Always, Quinn.”

And there was nothing more to say to that without the risk of bursting into tears.

IT WAS ALMOST an hour on the road to the Fringe, but worth it for the ambience. The Fringe was old-school, pre-Accords, a section of the city that sat between Lycan and Dracul territory and somehow fell through the cracks when the Mageri-created boundaries descended on our world.

The Fringe was home to all manner of supernaturals and humans too. People who balked at being affiliated to the Houses. There’d been debate at the start, petitions from the Houses to the Mageri council urging them to either divvy up the Fringe or declare it a no-man zone.

The Mageri had done neither. They’d declared the existence of the Fringe as an act of Fate, and now it was a bustling mini metropolis where the lost went to be found, and the hunted went to get lost. The Fringe was so overpopulated you had to apply for a permit to live there. Although it meant freedom from affiliation to a House, it also meant lack of protection from threats. The Fringe had its own laws, its own code, and I loved it.

It also held its own dangers, but many would argue those dangers were minor compared to the ones that plagued the main city. Dangers like the cold ones—beasts that could only be killed by members of the Order.

Tate drove us through the checkpoint, where I flashed my enforcer badge and pack credentials. The horned demon guard barely looked our way before flicking the switch to raise the barriers, then we were gliding into the Fringe. Tate swerved left into the lot and found a parking space. Cars were a no-go here. The roads were lined with stalls and huts, and the only modes of transport were bikes, hoverboards, or foot patrol.

We climbed out and locked up our ride.

Tate pocketed the keys. “Lead the way.”

I studied him for a moment, dressed in his kick-the-shit-outta-you boots, leather jacket that stretched across his broad shoulders, and snug-on-the-butt jeans. He’d slicked back his hair and planted his don’t-fuck-with-me expression on his face. Not even his spectacles could detract from the I’ll-kick-your-face-in vibe; in fact, dressed like this, they added to it.

Yeah, he looked the part. “You’ll do.”

“Gee, thanks,” he drawled.

“Oooh, nice sarcasm.”

“Let’s just get this over with.”

“Yes, boss.”

I gave him a mock salute and headed out of the lot toward Main Street and inner Fringe.

MAIN STREET WOUND through the Fringe like a snake. It was the beating heart of this place, lined with market stalls and shacks painted in attractive colors. Delicious scents of cooking meat and vegetables filled the air, rising in aromatic clouds of smoke that punctuated our journey. Market traders called out, inviting us to try their wares. Some sang ditties, others rapped, competing for attention. Humans shopped alongside demons and Lycans, balancing on hoverboards or leaning against their bikes as they bartered.

I spotted the odd pointed ear too. Half-blood fae. The Accords had driven the purebloods south to the Evergreen, a dense forested area now rumored to be their home.

The demon I needed to see operated from offices in a filthy backstreet littered with empty Styrofoam cups and Chinese takeout boxes. I led the way down the alley, avoiding the debris best I could.

“This place smells bad,” Tate said.

“I know. Breathe through your mouth.”

The sun was dropping, and the world was tinged red. My goal was to grab what we needed and get out before nightfall. I had a date with my mate.

A set of metal steps bolted to the wall came into view up ahead.

Dino’s residence.

We clambered up, boots rattling the grill.

I didn’t bother knocking. No need for niceties in this job.

A quick kick had the door swinging open. “Honey, I’m home.”

I strode through the small foyer and into the main office, Tate’s heavy footfalls at my back. The room was dark and empty. The fucker thought he could run? Not happening. I’d done my research. If he wasn’t here, I knew exactly where to track him down.

“You got a residential address?” Tate asked.

“Yeah, but he won’t be there. He has a sister. Older, scarier. He’s probably there.”

We turned to leave and froze as shadows cut across the rectangle of moonlight in the foyer.

Shit, when had the sun gone down?

“Quinn, is there another exit?” Tate asked.

“No.”

He drew a blade from his hip holster and another from his boot. “What’re we dealing with here?”

I sniffed the air and almost gagged on the pungent, acrid scent. “Vampires. Shadows, now.”

Tate backed up into the gloom. He had a way of being still, of hiding in plain sight, that was a true gift. Sometimes I doubted his humanity.

Four figures strode into the office, reducing the small space into an even smaller one.

“Well, well, well,” one of the vampires said. “You must be the big bad wolf Dino’s been telling us about. Not looking so big or bad now, are you?”

“You must be the skanky vamp thugs I’ve been hearing about. I heard you took down a granny last week. How was that for you?”

The vamp balked, indignant. “She was a two-hundred-year-old rage demon.”

“Is that how you’re spinning it?” My mouth turned down and I nodded. “Okay. Cool. So how do you want to do this? One at a time?” I twirled the silver stake like a baton. “Or in one fell swoop?” I held up my longsword and shrugged. “I’m flexible.”

The vampire snarled, showcasing elongated fangs. “Prepare to die, filthy half-blood.”

“Ouch, that hurts, cos I’ve never heard that one before.”

The vampires attacked as one, arms out, hands clawed in a proper cheesy horror movie move. Was this serious? Where was the comedy-cam recording this? I ducked a swipe of dirty vamp claws and staked spokesperson vamp, dusting his ass. The shadows to my left moved, and the vamp aiming for my jugular with his plaque-coated fangs jerked and then dusted.

Tate dropped to his knees and stabbed a third vamp through the heart, ashing his ass.

One vamp left.

“Wait!” The vamp held up his hands and backed away. “Look, I don’t want any trouble. I didn’t even want to come here. I have a puppy at home, Trixie, she needs me. Please don’t kill me.”

“Quinn?” Tate waited for my decision.

Urgh. “Where’s Dino?”

“He left for Morningstar territory last night, said he was done living in the Fringe.”

Fuck.

Vamp’s bottom lip trembled as he looked from Tate to me. “Can I go now. Please.”

I jerked my head to the door. “Get out of here, and keep your fangs clean, you hear me?”

He backed up until he was almost through the door, his wary gaze on us, and then he turned and ran.

“What now?” Tate asked.

I pulled my phone from my pocket and hit speed dial before I could change my mind. It rang for long seconds before it was answered.

“Quinn?”

My pulse skipped at the sound of her voice. I licked my lips nervously. “Hey, Nyx, how you doing?”

There was a long beat of silence. “Fuck, Quinn, it’s good to hear your voice.”

Guilt writhed in my belly along with a multitude of sorrys. Sorry I hadn’t called. Sorry I’d walked away. Sorry for the hurt. Sorry for everything.

“How are you?” Nyx asked softly. “How are things?”

Oh, fuck, I’d forgotten how she could make me feel. Like the center of the world. Important. Interesting.

I’d forgotten how much I missed her. “Things are good. Real good, actually, and you?”

“Yeah, good.” She let out a bark of laughter. “Shit, first conversation in over four years, and this is the best we can manage?”

I couldn’t help but smile. “I know, right?”

“We should meet up, catch up.”

To see her again. Her and Orina. My chest ached at the thought of my other friend, and longing bloomed in my heart. “I’d like that.”

“I’m on a job, but I’ll be back in a couple of weeks…”

“I’ll be here.”

“I’m glad you reached out, Quinn, I’ve fucking missed you.”

I’d missed her too. So much I’d made myself bury the emotions to stop the pain, and now that we were speaking, the ridiculousness of not having spoken was a poignant reminder of my stubborn stupidity.

But there’d been another reason for this call. “Actually…this wasn’t just a social call.”

“Wasn’t it? You telling me there wasn’t anyone else you could call to get what you need?”

Perceptive as always. “You’re right. Call it a happy coincidence. Two birds, one stone.”

“What do you need, Quinn?”

“Demon called Dino. He owes the pack a substantial amount of money. Just relocated to Morningstar territory.”

As a demon blood, Nyx had access to demon territory. And as a bounty hunter, she had connections.

“Text me his details,” she said. “I’ll look him up. No charge for you, babe.”

I could imagine my kickass tattooed friend, grin on her cheeky face, sitting back in her seat, mug of java clutched in her hand. I remembered our dreams. The business. Our friendship. How had one incident ruined it all?

“I’ll call you when I have something,” Nyx said.

“Thank you.” I made to hang up.

“Quinn…Have you spoken to Orina?”

My heart sank. “No.”

“No, not yet? Or no, you don’t plan on it.”

Orina. Beautiful, clever Orina. The friend who’d betrayed me. It had felt like such a big deal at the time, but now…Fuck, now it seemed petty and childish. But a lot had changed since then. I’d changed, and this call…This call had been a long time coming. Nyx was right, Dino had just provided me with an excuse to reach out. Problem was, I didn’t have an excuse to call Orina.

“Quinn?”

I sucked on my bottom lip and walked out of the office. “I haven’t called her. Not yet.”

There was no need to tell her that I was only a few blocks from Orina’s last known address and mere minutes from the Order base where she worked.

Nyx’s soft explosion of breath communicated her relief. “Then maybe our meet-up in a few weeks could be a reunion?”

I chuckled. “Since when did you become the peacemaker?”

“Since my two best friends became too pig-headed to mend bridges.”

She had a point. “It’s been too long.”

“Yeah, it has.” Tate joined me outside on the metal steps. “I gotta go, but we’ll speak soon.”

“Take care, Quinn.”

“You too.”

I clambered down the steps with Tate on my heels.

“You okay?” he asked as we made our way down the alley.

There’d been a weight on my heart for the last four years, but half that weight had finally lifted, leaving me kinda giddy.

“I’m good, Tate.” I shot him a grin. “I’m fucking awesome.”

I should have known better than to speak too soon.

5

Seven p.m. came and went but Ward was a no-show. There was no reply to my text inquiring where he was and if he was okay and no call or message to let me know he’d changed his plans.

The worm of doubt was back and the buzz from talking to Nyx was gone. Ward was my mate, my forever partner. We’d been lucky to find each other in the same pack. Some Lycans had to move packs to be together and some never found a mate.

This was a blessing, but if being Ward’s mate meant being left disappointed, then I wasn’t sure it was a good thing. These feelings of inadequacy and insecurity weren’t healthy.

I didn’t want them.

My phone buzzed and I snatched it up quickly, expecting a text from Ward only to find a question mark from Tate.

He was worried.

Typical Tate.

I was tempted to lie and say everything was great, but Tate and I didn’t do lies.

I typed…

No-show.

His reply came immediately.

Come over.

I can’t say I wasn’t tempted, but…

Going to bed.

Spare room here.

The temptation grew. I loved hanging out with Tate. Ward might be my Lycan mate, but Tate was my human soulmate. I never had to explain myself to him and silence was never ugly, but I was a big girl, and I could handle being stood up without running to him. I needed to get used to it; I mean, once he got a steady girlfriend, I doubt she’d like me coming over every time something went wrong in my life.

Thanks but I’m knackered. Just gonna crash. See you in the morning.

I set down the phone, grabbed the throw off the sofa, and curled up with the TV on low. A black-and-white movie I didn’t recognize was playing, but it was hard to tell through my blurred vision.

God, what was wrong with me? Urgh. Why couldn’t I be the hardass enforcer chick all the time? Out there on the job it was easy not to care, to put on a smirk and deliver some pain, but here, in the bosom of the pack, my defenses were low, and all it took was a tiny act, like being stood up by my mate, to bring the insecurities surging to the surface.

I dashed the tears away. Fuck this. I would not cry over a guy. I’d have a nice hot bath and then snuggle with Mr Vibrate-Your-World. Nothing like a few orgasms to chase away the blues.

There was a knock on the door.

Ward?

I was off the sofa in a blink, smile plastered on my face as I headed for the door. I yanked it open, and it took everything I had not to let my smile slip at the sight of Tate on the doorstep.

His sharp blink told me he wasn’t fooled. He held up a bag of Chinese takeout. “I’m hungry.”

I stepped aside to let him in, chest swelling with emotion. He knew I probably hadn’t eaten. He’d come over to make sure I did.

Tate was an enigma. Aloof and uninterested in most people. Happy with his own company, and the company of books. As the healer’s grandson, he was expected to take over the position when she retired, and even though I was pretty sure that was the last thing he wanted to do, he’d never said otherwise to Luna. She was more than his grandma, she was like his mother—he’d never really known his actual mother, and there were no clues on his father. Luna and Tate had come as a package deal, and as a child I’d followed him about, drawn to the calm that surrounded him. I’m not sure when it had happened, but he’d taken me under his wing, and the rest… Well, the rest was history.

I closed the door and took a shuddering breath to get my emotions under control, then headed into the kitchen to join him.

“I hope you got crispy beef.”

I WOKE to sunshine and the smell of freshly brewed coffee. My phone sat on the dresser. No messages. No calls. My heart sank, but I shook it off and jumped out of bed. The aches and pains from the rogue attack were almost gone. I felt good, physically. Sliding my bandaged feet into slippers, I followed the aroma into the kitchen, where Tate sat at the table nursing a mug of coffee. He’d made me one too, milky and sweet no doubt, just the way I liked it.

I parked my butt and drew the beverage to me, bracketing the mug in my palms. Aroma rose up to tease my nostrils, promising rejuvenating flavor.

I smiled up at him. “You can stay over anytime.”

Tate rarely smiled, but his eyes had a way of lighting up with warmth when he was amused or tickled, except this morning his expression was grave. His brows were low over eyes that seemed to scrutinize me from behind his neat spectacles, as if searching for hidden fractures.

He was worried about me. There was no need to be. “I’m fine.”

“It’s not that, Quinn. I have some upsetting news.”

Ward. His name popped into my head. “It’s about Ward, isn’t it?”

“Not directly.” Tate inhaled through his nose. “Quinn, Jay is dead.”

I couldn’t have heard right. Ward’s older brother couldn’t be dead. But the blood rushing to my head and the buzzing in my ears told me I had. Tate’s mouth was still moving. He was still speaking, telling me stuff.

“He was hurt bad on their trip back from Gravecrown Pack.”

A trip…was this the pack business Ward had mentioned? Father had spoken of a potential alliance with the Gravecrown Pack. A way to strengthen our stance and prevent a takeover by Winterhide. Was it happening now?

“They were attacked by rogue Lycans,” Tate continued.

“Rogue, like the rogues that attacked me?”

“Rumor is the rogues were hired by Winterhide to take out Jay.”

Not the same rogues, then. “But why? Why would Winterhide want to kill Jay?”

Tate leaned in. “Jay is in line to become alpha of the pack. The alliance was a mating between Jay and the Gravecrown alpha’s daughter. A binding of the packs through a bloodline merge.”

Jay didn’t have a mate, he’d never found her, so this made sense. But now he was dead. This explained why Ward had been lax about getting in touch with me. His brother had been attacked. He’d probably intended to fill me in last night, but then his brother died from his injuries.

Guilt was a bitter bile at the back of my throat.

“Oh, fuck. Jay was struggling for life all this time and I was bitching about why Ward didn’t message me.” I covered my face with my hands. “I’m such a bitch.”

“You weren’t to know,” Tate said soothingly.

No. I dropped my hands to the table and met his gaze. I wouldn’t allow him to absolve me so easily. “Luna was tending to me when she should have been with Jay.”

Tate covered my hand, dwarfing it with his much larger one. “Gravecrown sent two healers. Grandmother wasn’t needed.”

But she’d known. She’d known something was wrong.

Oh, God. Poor Ward. My eyes brimmed with tears. “I need to speak to him.”

“The alpha has called an assembly at midday. All Lycans are to attend.”

I nodded. “Okay. I need to get dressed. I need to get over to the barn.”

Tate didn’t try to stop me as I shoved back my chair. I was at the door when he spoke.

“Quinn, this isn’t common knowledge yet.”

Of course it wasn’t, but Luna would have been informed, which was how Tate knew. “Thank you for the heads-up.”

“Always.”

I hurried back upstairs. It was time to put on my Lycan game face because Ward would need me by his side now more than ever.

PACK ASSEMBLIES TOOK place in a huge, converted barn. We used this space for gatherings, mating ceremonies, and all kinds of other official events. It was a twenty-minute walk to the barn. I planned to get there early enough to speak to Ward. There was no doubt in my mind that he’d be one of the first people there with his father, Ronuld, the alpha. The pack elders were always the first to arrive to any event.

I made it forty minutes before the stated time to find the barn heaving with Lycans. I guess I wasn’t the only one who’d decided to arrive early, but then I suppose this impromptu assembly had everyone intrigued.

Several Lycans looked my way, faces I recognized but didn’t associate with. There were three groups of Lycans in the pack: those who actively went out of their way to remind me I didn’t belong, those who made an over-the-top effort to include me in stuff because, yeah, my father was the beta of the pack and the majority of Lycans were all about staying in his good graces, and finally those who just didn’t give a shit either way. I preferred those Lycans. The you’re-nothing-special group who treated me like I was nobody. Indifference might suck in other settings, but in situations like this it was a blessing.

I slipped through the crowd, aiming for the back of the barn where the elder council would be hanging out in a back room prepping for this assembly.

I’d been in that room a few times as a child, watching knees and avoiding boots as the alpha, beta, and other elder rank Lycans discussed pack business. It was a meeting room where many buffets had been devoured and many bottles of whiskey drunk.

Was it fucked up that those were my fondest memories growing up? Yeah, probably, but those were also the only times I recalled feeling close to my father.

Had he always held me at arm’s length? There was a subconscious part of me that whispered no. A part that held on to wisps of dream-like memories of summer days with my hand enveloped in a much larger one as I ran through the fields. Of the bass tone of a voice as it spun a bedtime story, and tinkling laughter mingled with deep masculine chuckles. Part of me knew things had been different, warm and loving, embodying the ideal of home, and that…That made the reality of now so much worse.

Murmurs and scents assaulted my senses sharpened by nerves. What if Ward didn’t want to see me? The archway that led to the back room came into view and someone snagged my elbow.

I looked up, ready to bite a head off, and instead bit back my words at the sight of Ward’s puffy-eyed face.

“Quinn, I need to speak to you.”

I nodded and allowed him to lead me out of the barn. We drew several glances, but only for a moment. Everyone knew we were mated, and it was no new thing to see us together, so why was my heart pounding so fucking hard?

Ward steered me around the side of the building, away from the hubbub of excited Lycans. As soon as we were out of sight, I threw my arms around his neck and hugged him tight.

He stiffened for a moment, and then his solid arms wrapped around me and he hugged me back. His heart beat like an erratic drum against my breastbone, urging mine to run with it.

“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” I whispered the words, pushing past the sob trapped in my throat. “Tate told me what happened. I can’t even imagine what you’ve been going through.”

He took a shuddering breath and squeezed me to him so hard I thought my bones would crack.

“I love you, Quinn.”

My fluttering pulse stalled and then began to hammer. We’d been together for years, but I love you hadn’t been used by either of us. Not yet. Not until now.

Why was he telling me this now?

It was a paranoid thought, but I couldn’t help it. “Ward?” I pulled back and looked up at his face, taking in his red-rimmed eyes and the lines of exhaustion that bracketed his youthful mouth.

He cupped my face and drew me close. “I need you to know that I love you with all my fucking heart.” He pressed his lips to mine, soft, almost pleading, and the simmering panic inside me began to bubble. What was he pleading for? What was this?

“Ward!” A male voice cut through my dread.

Ward broke the kiss and stepped away from me. “I’ll see you in there.” His tone was cool and composed. A far cry from what it had been a moment ago.

I looked to my father, standing a few meters away with a storm brewing in his eyes, and then back to Ward.

“Ward, what’s going on?”

“Now!” my father demanded.

Ward’s throat bobbed. He shook his head. “Later. We can speak later. I promise you. Just…Just trust me.”

He strode off toward my father and round to the front of the barn, leaving me confused and reeling with emotions I didn’t quite understand.

Ward had told me he loved me. He’d kissed me and held me, so why did I feel like he’d been saying goodbye?

6

Lycans were taking their seats as I entered the barn. Ward and my father were visible on the raised platform at the back of the building, but my attention was drawn to the figures entering via the archway and to one figure in particular.

The alpha.

He was a huge, bulky Lycan, thick neck, bullish expression, and deep-set eyes. Ward looked nothing like him, having taken his fair looks from his mother, but Jay had been the spitting image of Ronuld, both in looks and temperament.

I’d heard the alpha’s wrath, seen him throw grown Lycans across the room for some transgression or other. Everyone knew not to piss him off. My father was the only Lycan who could get away with backchatting the alpha due to their long-standing friendship.

They’d grown up together, scrapped together before Ronuld had taken the alpha role from his father. I’d heard rumors that my father had saved Ronuld’s life once, a long time ago.

I was used to being awed by Ronuld’s presence, by the power that radiated off him. Usually, he looked like he could crush a lesser Lycan, but today he seemed diminished, shoulders slumped, a drag in his step as he made his way to the platform. The two Lycans accompanying him stopped at the steps and a wizened man came into view. His face was pinched, eyes too large. They locked onto me and a stab of foreboding shot through me.

“Quinn, over here.” Mel, a young Lycan I’d hung out with a few times, patted the empty seat beside her.

I quickly slipped into it, because the alpha was standing, hands on hips, about to address the assembly.

“I come to you with a heavy heart this day,” Ronuld said. “My firstborn has been taken from us too soon. Jay is dead.”

A series of shocked gasps and exclamations followed the news.

“The alpha speaks!” one of the other elders bellowed.

The gathering fell into stunned silence.

Ronuld didn’t look like he wanted to be speaking, he looked like he wanted to be knocking heads, tearing off limbs, and breaking shit. There was a fire in his eyes that had been absent when he walked up to the stage. It was as if he’d shrugged off the shroud of grief and donned a mantle of vengeance.

My gut told me this was more for the benefit of the crowd than a reflection of how he was truly feeling.

“My son was taken too soon by an act of murder,” Ronuld continued. “But if Winterhide Pack feels they can stop our alliance with Gravecrown by murdering the alpha-to-be, then they’re wrong, because they forget, I have more than one son.”

He looked to Ward, who stepped forward.

My breath caught in my throat as the implications of his words hit me. Alphas were determined by bloodline, and our pack was ruled by Swiftwoods. Now that Jay was gone, Ward was next in line to be alpha, unless he was challenged by another or renounced the title. But wait, how would this keep the alliance with Gravecrown? The alliance was meant to be cemented in a mating…

Oh…

Oh, God.

I looked to Ward but he had his gaze fixed straight ahead, hands clasped behind his back, like a good soldier.

This couldn’t be real. What my gut told me was about to happen couldn’t be true.

Ronuld lifted his chin. “Ward is now heir to the alpha seat, and as such, he will step into Jay’s shoes. He will cement our alliance with Gravecrown by mating with the alpha’s daughter.”

The room broke out in murmurs and the weight of a multitude of gazes descended on me. This couldn’t be right. This couldn’t be happening. I was dreaming and this was a nightmare.

Look at me, Ward. Dammit, look at me. I needed one glance to tell me this was a lie, that everything would be okay. But I was the one lying to myself now. His behavior a few minutes ago, the way he’d kissed me, looked at me…

It was goodbye.

“But Ward has a mate,” a young voice piped up.

A child too young to know better than to challenge the alpha.

“Hush.” His mother slapped the back of his head in reprimand.

But his question had emboldened everyone else, and the volume of murmurs rose in a question that echoed the child’s words.

“Silence!” Ronuld bellowed.

Once again, the gathered quieted.

“This decision is final. Our alliance with Gravecrown is essential for the survival of this pack. Today, in the presence of his peers, Ward will sever his mating bond to Quinn, freeing himself to save our pack.”

My face was on fire, limbs trembling with shock, as I pushed to my feet, demanding their attention, demanding that they look at me as they made this momentous decision.

Ronuld finally fixed his dark eyes on me, gracing me with the acknowledgement I both craved and feared. “We do what we must for the good of the pack.” His tone softened a fraction.

My gaze flew to my father, who was watching me with a tight jaw and a warning in his eyes. Do not shame me. Do not protest.

But the protest was a rush of blood coursing through my body. It was the howl of the hidden Lycan beneath my skin and the twist of agony in my heart.

“Come forth, Quinn Darkmore,” Ronuld ordered.

My feet obeyed his command, taking me up the aisle until I was standing a few feet from the platform. Even then my mind rebelled, telling me this was a trick, some cruel joke, a nightmare that I was about to wake up from. But the whispers behind me were all too real.

“What will happen?”

“It’s never been done.”

“Not in our pack.”

“A severed mating…”

My severed mating.

This was about to happen to me, and it was rare and almost unheard of, and… I finally caught Ward’s gaze. How could this be happening?

He looked back at me with the regard of a stranger—cool and detached.

The real stranger, the man with the wizened face, came to stand beside me. He was Lycan. Old. Ancient. When he looked at me, I didn’t doubt his compassion, and when he placed his hand on my shoulder, my insides quivered with the acceptance of how very real this was.

“Please…” Was that my plea?

“I’m sorry, my child,” the Lycan said. “But know this: your sacrifice will not be in vain.”

This was happening. “Ward?” I looked to my mate. “Ward, you said you loved me.”

I sounded weak and desperate, but I had no control because the Lycan inside me was clawing at my mind, demanding answers. Demanding I stop this madness.

For a moment Ward’s cool façade cracked and I caught a glimpse of the man I loved, because yes, I loved him, had loved him for a long time. He was mine. We belonged together, and now they were going to tear us apart.

I’d always put the pack first, done whatever it took to fit in, to be a good Lycan, even if I was unable to wear a Lycan skin, but in this moment, I cared nothing for the pack. I wanted nothing but Ward.

My mate.

Mine.

“I’m sorry, Quinn,” Ward said gruffly. “I’ve made my decision.”

No. No, he hadn’t. Ronuld had made it for him, but it didn’t matter. I knew that look of resolution on my mate’s face.

He’d accepted this. Accepted that he had to let me go.

He was done.

Done with me.

The knowledge was a sharp twist of a knife in my gut.

“There will be pain,” the old man said. “There is always pain for the party who is severed. It will help if you do not fight it.”

Panic ballooned in my chest. “What do you mean? What’s going to happen?”

“Ward, it’s time,” Ronuld said.

My mate stepped off the platform and came to stand in front of me. I scanned his detached expression. He was already gone. Already belonging to someone else.

“Ward…Please don’t do this.”

“You must place your hands on her shoulders,” the old Lycan instructed. “You must reach into yourself, find your connection, and sever it willingly.”

I took a step back, chest heaving as panic bloomed inside me. “Wait. Why does he get to sever it? Why can’t I?”

If this had to happen, then I needed to do it. I deserved to be in control.

Ronuld let out a low warning growl and my attention whipped up to the platform to lock on him. Our gazes collided as his growl intensified, a demand for submission. My hackles rose and the urge to fall to my knees battled with the desire to rip out his throat.

Shit. I dropped my gaze, a fist of terror squeezing my nape. Had I almost challenged the alpha with a look?

The old Lycan held up his hand. “Calm, Ronuld. This is no easy feat for anyone. It goes against nature’s will. We must be patient.”

Who was this guy?

He smiled wanly at me. “Child, only a male Lycan has the power to reject his mate. It’s the way it’s always been.”

Sexist, archaic. Unfair. The words slide-showed through my mind, useless and pointless.

Ward’s hands descended on my shoulders, fingers digging in to hold me in place as my body went into instinctive flight mode.

“No. No, stop it.” My chest vibrated in a feral growl and Ward’s eyes widened. “You don’t have to do this. We can find another way to strengthen the pack. A new alliance. A new offering.”

“Dammit, Quinn,” Ward snapped. “Don’t you get it? This isn’t just about the alliance, it’s about the alpha bloodline. I’ll be alpha now, and I can’t be mated to someone who might produce defective pups.”

Defective?

His words were a slug to the chest, wiping out the fire of my resistance. Now that he was in line to be alpha, he no longer wanted a mate who couldn’t shift, one who might give birth to more Lycans with the same issue.

I was no longer an option.

Being with me was no longer an option.

There was nothing left to fight for, and that knowledge nudged the darkness inside me and sparked my rage.

I bared my teeth, eyes burning with feral intent. “Do it. Do it now.”

A flash of sorrow passed across his features and then he hauled me to his chest and pressed his mouth to mine.

My traitorous body melted, molding to his, lips kissing him back instinctively, conditioned to be his and created for his touch. For a moment the reality of our situation took a back seat and there was nothing but his mouth and his tongue dancing with mine. For a moment the world melted away, taking my anger and hurt with it.

Heat unfurled at my solar plexus and I felt Ward as a pressure at the back of my mind and a vibration beneath my skin. He was around me. Inside me. Our mating bond was usually a gentle hum, a connection that was peripheral but constant, waiting to be confirmed in an official binding ceremony that would cement it for life.

I’d looked forward to it, taken it for granted, not knowing what it would feel like, and now… Now I was sure I was getting a taste, because the hum that connected us was suddenly a bone-aching pulsation. The pressure of his lips increased so that he was me and I was him. We were one. We were—

He tore his mouth from mine and my chest lurched. Pain punched a hole through my ribcage and a fist closed around my heart. My gaze locked with Ward’s.

“No…” My plea was a whimper.

“I’m sorry.”

The fist squeezed.

The world lit up in agony. My raw, primal scream fractured the silence, then darkness took me, dragging me down, down, deep into oblivion.

7

The world outside the conservatory windows was gray, even though the sky was an aqua blue that stung my eyes. My coffee tasted like ash on my tongue, even though it was my favorite brand. There was an emptiness in my soul as if some force had clawed at it, leaving frayed edges and jagged tears in the fabric of my being.

“Your soul will heal,” Luna had said. “The pain will ebb, and you will heal. It will take time.”

I held on to those words, to the hope that the emptiness was only temporary, but for now I was me, but not me. Where had the sunshine gone?

The armchair in the conservatory had become my spot. I didn’t want to move, didn’t need to move. The world could pass me by, and I’d be okay with that.

I sensed Tate’s presence behind me. He’d been hovering for hours, fake-tidying my already tidy house. Watching me.

I wasn’t going anywhere. This was my spot.

“Quinn, you need to eat,” he said.

“Not hungry.”

“It’s been two days.”

“I can tell the time, Tate.”

“Look at me.”

I transferred my gaze from the view beyond the glass to my best friend’s concerned face. Something flickered inside me. Emotion.

No.

Shut it down.

“Quinn. It’s okay to cry. To be angry. To rage.”

He didn’t get it. “No.”

He pinched my chin and glared at me. “I won’t let you do this. I won’t let you shut down. I won’t let him take you from me.”

So many words in a row. Too many for Tate. My fractured heart fluttered.

Tate’s gaze softened. “You can’t heal if you don’t allow yourself to feel and take the journey. What Ward did was…” His jaw ticked. “You deserved better. You are better. But before you can feel better, you need to grieve.”

There was an explosion waiting to detonate inside me. A ball of rage and sorrow desperate to be felt. “I’m scared.” The words slipped from my lips. I closed my eyes. “I’m scared I’ll break.”

“Then I’ll put you back together.” He cupped my face with his huge hands. “I’ve got you.”

My throat throbbed as the worm of suppressed emotions wriggled free. My eyes heated and my vision blurred. Oh, God. “Tate…” His name came out as a whine ending in a gasp. A balloon expanded in my chest. “Oh, God.” Tate gathered me to him as the tsunami I’d been holding back punched free, racking my body with sobs.

He wrapped me in his solid arms, cradling me to his steady heartbeat as I mourned the connection I’d lost, the part of me that nature had intended for me to have. The piece of my soul that had been torn asunder, leaving me incomplete, but there were tears of anger too. Ward had betrayed me. And my father…My father had stood by and let this happen.

After all I’d done to fit in, to help this pack, the danger I’d placed myself in time and time again, they’d shown me I still wasn’t good enough. The sick thing was, if Ward had come to me before, told me the situation and explained what needed to happen for the sake of the pack, I’d have gone along with it willingly. Anything for the good of my pack. But they’d blindsided me. They’d treated me like my feelings didn’t matter. Like an outsider who didn’t deserve consideration.

And that…That I couldn’t forgive.

IT WAS late on the fourth day after the ceremony when Ward finally made an appearance at my door. Tate had popped out for supplies, having practically moved in with me the last three days. I had to admit, having him around was comforting. A distraction that my grief needed.

Ward on my doorstep was something I didn’t need, even though I’d imagined this moment several times over the past couple of days. I’d imagined what I’d say to him, how I’d react, but seeing him now, standing on my porch looking just as empty as I felt, all the anger seeped out of me and the ugly words balancing on my tongue died.

I stepped back to let him in and closed the door.

“I wanted to tell you,” he said. “I wanted to, but Father ordered me not to.”

A direct order from the alpha wasn’t something you could ignore, but as the alpha’s son, ignoring a direct order was almost impossible for Ward.

But I wasn’t about to let him off that easily. “Did he order you to sever the bond too?”

“No.” Ward tucked in his chin. “That has to be a willing act.” He looked up at me with his baby blues, dark with guilt and sorrow. “I love you, Quinn, that hasn’t changed. I don’t think it’ll ever change, but the pack is more important than the two of us. It’s more important than what I want. It had to come first. I would never forgive myself if my selfishness resulted in Winterhide taking over our home.”

He was preaching to the choir. “And you think I would?” I tipped my head to the side. “You, above all people, know how much I love this pack, how I’d do anything to protect it, to be a part of it, but with this one act, you showed me how little regard this pack has for me.”

“Quinn—”

“No. Your father should have spoken to me. Explained the situation and given me the respect I’ve earned. I should have been given time to prepare instead of being thrown to the wolves and made to look like a quivering, weak mess.” My anger was back, and it felt good. “I’ve worked hard for the pack, for your father, and I deserved better. You should have fought harder for me. You were my mate. You should have been my advocate when I couldn’t be my own.”

“I know. I’m sorry, Quinn.” He took a step toward me, but I backed away.

“Don’t. You don’t get to touch me. Ever again.”

His throat bobbed. “I still love you.”

Pain lanced through my chest. “Yeah? Well, that’s just too bad, isn’t it?”

There was a rap at the door, and I tore my gaze from Ward, not wanting to see the pain my words had inflicted. Not wanting to weaken.

Tate probably forgot his key. Thank God he was back, though, because I was done with being in the same room as my ex-mate. I wanted him gone.

I yanked open the door and stared at air. Huh?

“Quinn…” Ward stepped forward and picked up the huge padded envelope sitting on the welcome mat. “Package.”

I didn’t recognize the postmark or the neat script scrawled across the label, but Ward sucked in a sharp breath, obviously seeing something I didn’t.

He glanced up at me with a frown. “This is a package from Hawthorne Cove.”

“Where?”

He blinked at me in disbelief. “Hawthorne Cove, Quinn. That’s Lycan no-man’s land.”

Okay, he’d lost me. “I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“I can’t believe you haven’t heard the stories. Hawthorne Cove is off the grid. Not part of either of the three Houses and home to a pack of Lycans who aren’t under House Raventhorn rule. And the most fucked-up thing is…no Lycans can get into the town. Ever.”

He was still holding my package, and I plucked it from his grasp and hugged it to my chest. “Okay, thanks for the info. Bye.”

He frowned. “Wait. Aren’t you going to open it?”

“Sure I am. Once you’re gone.” I gave him a close-lipped smile.

Yeah, it was petty and mean, but fuck did it give me satisfaction to see the irritation sweep across his face.

“Quinn, come on.”

“Bye, Ward.”

He clenched his teeth, nodded, and stepped outside. “I’ll see you soon.”

I closed the door in his face and carried the envelope into the kitchen. Weird, but all of a sudden, I felt a whole lot better.

TATE PLODDED INTO THE KITCHEN, bringing the scent of Indian food with him. He’d picked up takeout, and although my stomach rumbled in appreciation of the delicious aroma, my mind was too busy wrapping itself around what I’d just read.

Tate placed the bag of food on the table. “What is that?”

“Oh, this?” I patted the thick wad of papers spread out on the table in front of me. “Legal documents telling me I’m now the proud owner of a property in Hawthorne Cove.” I plucked the deeds from the pile. “Look. Clifftop residence and everything.”

Tate scooped up the deeds and studied them. “Can I have a read?” He indicated the rest of the paperwork.

I slid it across the table toward him. “Be my guest. It’s obviously some kind of mistake.”

I pushed back my chair and got up to grab plates and cutlery.

Tate claimed a seat, pushed his spectacles up the bridge of his nose, and bent over the papers.

By the time I dished up the food, he was done. “Quinn...this is no joke. This is you. They have your birth certificate. This is real.”

A prickle of unease ran over my skin. “I don’t know anyone in Hawthorne Cove. I have no clue who this Mariana Rivers is?”

A shadow fell over the table and the extra presence in the house finally registered. I looked across at my father, regretting the day I’d given him a spare key.

“What do you want?” The words came out harsh, and I was glad.

But he didn’t even flinch at my tone, his attention on the table. “Mariana Rivers?”

“Yes,” Tate said. “Do you know her?”

“Yes. Yes, I do.” He locked gazes with me. “Mariana Rivers was your mother.”

8

My father’s gaze dropped to the paperwork on the table. “The deeds are from her?”

“Part of a will.” Tate looked from me back to my father, mouth turned down slightly in that habitual way he had when he was gauging the potential explosiveness of a situation.

My father nodded slowly. “She’s dead, then?”

“Yes.” Tate handed my father the copy of the will. “She left a property to Quinn.”

My father scanned the deed. “She was in Hawthorne. All this time.”

His shoulders slumped, and for a moment he seemed smaller, older, but the observation was a peripheral thing because my mind was too busy wrapping itself around a revelation that made my head pound in an erratic pulse.

“She was alive?” My voice came out as a croak.

“It seems so,” my father said.

My throat pinched. “You told me…You told me she died.”

“Would you have preferred if I’d told you she’d abandoned you? Her three-year-old baby girl?”

“I’d have preferred to know the truth.”

“I did what I felt best to protect you.”

The nerve of that statement formed a knot in my belly. “Protect me? What? Like you did at the assembly?”

His eyes flinched. “That had to happen.”

“Yeah, but you could have warned me. Prepared me. Given me a fucking heads-up.”

“Don’t you raise your voice to me, pup.”

I squared off against him, rage burning holes into my eye sockets. “And what the fuck are you gonna do about it?”

I was pushing it. Challenging the beta of my pack, but my gut knew he wouldn’t hurt me, not physically anyway. No, the damage he dealt never left any physical scars, only emotional ones.

He glared at me, clenched jaw ticking, and then turned his head away abruptly. “You might hate me, Quinn, but I did the best I could to keep you safe. To make sure you fit in. I was hard on you to make you tougher, to show the pack you weren’t weak.”

Bullshit. “What did you think? That if you smiled at me, hugged me, or said a kind word to me in public, people would think less of me?”

“You’re a Lycan who can’t shift. A Lycan with no wolf.”

“I’m also your fucking daughter. Your flesh and blood, and that should mean something.”

He frowned and shook his head. “I did what needed to be done to make life easier for you in the pack.” But it sounded more like he was convincing himself than me.

He had it so twisted. “You know what would have made life easier for me?”

His gaze flicked up to meet mine.

“Having a loving parent would have made life easier. Knowing my father had my back would have made life easier.”

“Quinn—”

But I wasn’t done yet. “Loving your child doesn’t make them weak. It gives them confidence and security. It makes them well-adjusted fucking human beings.”

His face fell. “And that’s precisely the problem, Quinn. You were always much too human.”

His words were a stinging slap. But then ice filled my chest, numbing and calming. “Get out. Get out of my house. Now.”

His jaw set. “I will, but you’re coming with me. The alpha wants to see you.” He indicated the papers. “And the papers.”

What? How could he have known about…Fucking Ward.

The snake.

THE ALPHA FARMHOUSE WAS AN OPULENT, sprawling structure in the center of Swiftwood territory, but even though Ward and I had been mates for years, he’d never brought me here.

That alone should have told me something.

I guess it had. I’d just chosen to ignore it.

But I was here now. Given admittance because of my unexpected inheritance from a woman I barely recalled.

My sudden worthiness had to be something to do with this place called Hawthorne Cove. A place that was barred to Lycans.

Tate had wanted to come with me, but my father was adamant that Ronuld wanted to see me alone. So here we were.

He led me through a dark-wood foyer and lushly carpeted corridors to a huge room bathed in sunshine streaming in from floor-to-ceiling windows and filled with Lycan elders.

Fear didn’t give a shit about bravado and better intentions, and it squirmed in my gut now as I was faced with the beasts of the pack who could tear me to shreds if the alpha ordered.

Ronuld sat in a leatherback chair, whiskey clutched in his huge hand, dark brows low over deep-set eyes.

“Show me,” he ordered.

My father stepped forward and handed him my paperwork.

Long seconds passed as he flipped through the pages before finally looking up at me. There was a strange gleam in his eyes, fervent and hungry. It sent gooseflesh prickling across my skin.

“Do you know what this means, Quinn?”

“It means my father lied to me. That my mother, who was alive all this time, is now dead, and left me a house as if that will make up for her abandoning me.”

Ronuld’s lips curved in a cold, calculating smile. “You’ve been vital to this pack, Quinn. An enforcer with skill beyond compare. I’ve admired your work. We all have.” The other elder Lycans nodded in agreement. “What happened at the assembly was…unfortunate, and it was done with a heavy heart.” He tipped his head to the side slightly, as if considering his words. “In hindsight I should have spoken with you. I should have explained our predicament and the dire situation the pack is in.”

Even though part of me recognized he was blowing smoke up my ass, the bigger part reveled in his words, gobbling them up like soul-warming nectar. To have the alpha admit he may have been wrong…Well, it was rare indeed.

“Swiftwood Pack is on the cusp of being overtaken by Winterhide,” Ronuld continued. “The pack has dispensation from the high pack Raventhorn to expand its borders through negotiation, and we all know that term can be interpreted in many ways. Winterhide is using force, blackmail, and murder to get what they want, and the high alpha is so obsessed with wrangling control of the Fringe that he’s oblivious to what’s going on. Gravecrown is our only hope…” He held up the papers. “Was our only hope, until this.”

What? “I don’t understand. What has my inheritance got to do with anything?”

“Not your inheritance, but where it’s located. Hawthorne Cove is rumored to be home to a powerful relic. This relic has allowed the Hawthorne Pack to remain independent by casting a powerful shield over the town to keep all Lycans out. It’s given them untold power, and no one has been able to get close enough to take it from them. Not even the Mageri council.”

My mind whirred, putting together the implications of what he was saying.

He nodded, smile morphing into a grin. “Yes, Quinn. No Lycan can get into Hawthorne Cove, but you’re not a regular Lycan, are you?”

“No…”

“You’re more human than beast, and you have a reason to go there. A claim. A property.” He held up the deed. “You will go there, and you will find this artifact and you’ll bring it home to us. If you do this, we won’t need an alliance with Gravecrown Pack. We won’t need any other pack. We’ll have the power to protect ourselves from outsiders. We’ll have independence. And you, pup, will have a place on the Lycan council. A place at your alpha’s side.”

If he’d offered me Ward, if he’d mentioned the mating in any way, my answer may have been different, but a place on the Lycan council meant status and power and everything my little heart had ever dreamed of.

It meant full acceptance.

“So, Quinn Darkmore, will you do this?” the alpha asked. “Will you save your pack?”

There was only one thing to say. “Yes, alpha. I will.”

9

“I’m coming with you,” Tate said from my bedroom doorway.

I stopped packing and turned to him, heart pounding with hope that I’d heard right and guilt that I wanted it to be so. He leaned casually against the doorframe, hands tucked into his jean pockets, dark hair mussed as if he’d been raking his fingers through it—something he did a lot when agitated.

I gave him a blank look, a way out. “What did you say?”

“You heard me, Quinn. I won’t let you do this alone.”

Typical Tate. Always there for me, but Ronuld had given me this task, not him. It was dangerous, like, mortally so. If I was caught, there was no doubt in my mind that these Lycans of Hawthorne Cove would end me, and if Tate was with me…who knew what they’d do to him. Killing humans was against city law, but rogue vampires and Lycans didn’t care for the law, and if what Ronuld said was true, Hawthorne Cove was outside Mageri law.

I sighed. “I’m sorry, Tate, it’s too dangerous.”

“I can take care of myself.”

Hope heated my chest. “This is your home.”

“Yes, and we can come back together once we have what we need.”

My pulse fluttered, begging me to shut up and just accept his offer already, but he wasn’t the only one with the monopoly on protecting their friends.

I shook my head and turned back to my packing, flinging socks and pants into the case. “No. Sorry. The answer is no.”

“You misunderstand, Quinn. I already spoke to Ronuld. He understands the benefit of my going with you. It’ll give your story credence. It’s already agreed. I’m coming with you. That’s not negotiable.”

Relief warred with guilt. “Tate…” I turned to face him. “Dammit…”

“Let’s go over the story.”

Ah, the story. “I’m a lone Lycan, part of no pack because of my inability to shift. I was raised by humans.”

“My family,” Tate added.

His family. Okay. We could talk about that on the way, make up a fake life. “I guess having a human buddy with me would help with the whole raised-by-humans thing.”

“Partner,” Tate corrected. “I’m going to play your bounty hunter partner.”

The knot in my chest eased and I grinned at him. “So, the usual role?”

He shrugged a muscle-rounded shoulder. “The fact we work well together will help.”

The protocol for any Lycan in another territory was to introduce themselves to the pack and get permission to reside there. The Hawthorne Pack probably didn’t abide by those rules because no Lycans could get in. Heck, I wasn’t even entirely sure I’d be able to, not even with my Lycan buried deep beneath my humanity.

Still, the protocol gave me the excuse to meet with them and begin worming my way into their circle of trust so I could achieve my objective of stealing this object of power. Whatever it was.

“I’ve already packed,” Tate added.

Ronuld had authorized this. He wanted Tate to come with me. I could argue with the alpha, make him change his mind, but the selfish part of me vetoed that idea. I wanted Tate with me. I needed him.

Still, I had to ask. “Is Luna okay with this?”

“Yes.”

I exhaled, letting go of the protests. “In that case, thank you.”

He nodded curtly. “It’s a six-hour drive. We leave at dawn.” He stomped off, and the next moment I heard his heavy bootfalls down the stairs.

His ability to go from quiet as a mouse to as loud as an elephant must be some kind of special skill.

I grabbed a pair of joggers, rolled them up, and shoved them in my suitcase. I was going on a trip that I might not return from.

I should be nervous.

Scared.

Instead, there was a buzz inside me.

Anticipation and…excitement.

Adventure, here I come.

WE LEFT when the world was gray with predawn light, silent and sleepy. There were no goodbyes. No call or visit from Ward to wish me luck. My father had done his part getting me to the alpha and making sure I got my instructions. I was on my own now.

Well, not strictly alone because I had Tate, and fuck, I was grateful for him. We took turns driving. Long hours slipped by with ease even when there was no conversation. Silence with Tate was never uncomfortable, it was like a warm hug surrounding me, telling me I could be still, relax, and let go. With Tate my mind was always at its most clear, as if he were the eye of the storm that was my life.

In early afternoon, we passed a sign claiming that we were approaching Hawthorne Cove.

“Less than a mile,” Tate said.

It was the first thing he’d said in an hour.

“Yeah.” Okay, now I was nervous. “Maybe we should—”

“Slow down.” He’d already decelerated.

The road around us was empty, the scent of the sea strong on the air and sweet in my lungs, filling me with vibrant energy. The ocean was visible in the distance, a never-ending expanse of gray. It felt as if we were the only people left in the world, which should have been eerie, but wasn’t.

The “Welcome to Hawthorne Cove” sign came into view, and Tate pulled the car over and cut the engine.

“What are you doing?”

“Taking a moment.” His throat bobbed.

“Tate?”

“We have no idea what will happen to you when we drive across the border to that town.”

Yeah, that thought had been circling my mind like a shark. “I’m mostly human.”

“Yes, but you’re also Lycan. It could still affect you adversely…and not knowing what those effects might be are making me nervous.”

“I know. Me too. But what else can I do?”

“Walk away.” He looked over at me. “We don’t have to do this. We can just…go.”

What was he talking about? “Go? Where would we go?”

“There are other towns outside of the city. Towns like Hawthorne. Towns and villages on the fringes of our island.”

“The Rims?” I stared at him. “You want to head to the Rims? There are no laws there. No Accords. No council.”

“I know.” Tate’s gaze was level, his mouth set. He was fucking serious.

My pulse sped up at the thought, of heading off into the unknown, a dangerous unknown where the rules were…Heck, there were no rules. No treaty, no boundaries, no protection for humans. The Rims was the rest of the island the city had forgotten, left out in the cold.

Hawthorne might be cut off by its own magical boundary free from Mageri rule, but it was still part of the city. To go farther…

“Quinn?”

I blinked, snapping out of the crazy daze of even considering such a thing. The pack was everything. Had always been everything to me. I couldn’t run away and let them down.

I frowned at him. “Swiftwood needs this.”

Tate continued to watch me levelly.

I sighed. “I want to do this.”

He nodded slowly. “Okay. Then we do this.”

He started the engine. “You tell me if you feel anything.”

I nodded, my chest suddenly tight with anxiety and fear.

We rolled toward the boundary.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

The hood of the car crossed the boundary, and a prickle ran up my arms, leaving gooseflesh in its wake. Shit, there was power here. It reached for me, tickling at my aura.

“Quinn?”

“I’m okay. I’m fine.”

We crossed the boundary and a vise closed around my lungs, cutting off my breath. My heartbeat slowed and needles of ice stabbed at my skin.

“Quinn? Shit, Quinn.” He stalled the car smack bang on the boundary line.

I gritted my teeth. “Don’t. Stop.”

Tate cursed. “Not my fault.” He restarted the engine while I pressed my palms to the dash, breathing shallowly through my nose as we crossed over. The engine roared, wheels spinning as it tried to move forward, but we were stuck, pinned in place by a force that pressed me to my seat. I was the fulcrum, the anchor, the thing the force didn’t like. It was a powerful invisible film keeping me out, but like fuck would I be thwarted now. I was here and I was getting in.

The darkness in my belly writhed and the vise around my lungs snapped. I sucked in a hungry breath and pushed back at the film.

There was a sharp cracking sound and we shot forward, fully over the boundary and into Hawthorne.

Tate pulled over and cut the engine, turning to face me. “Quinn? You okay?”

My pulse was galloping, but the almost painful tingle that had stung my skin was ebbing.

I looked across at him with a grin. “I’m fine, Tate. I’m fucking fabulous.”

He sat back in relief, then nodded. “Okay, in that case, let’s get you to the house.”

He sounded calm, collected, but the perspiration beading his brow told me otherwise. I leaned across on impulse and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

He blinked at me in surprise. “What was that for?”

“For being here. For coming with me.”

He started the engine. “Always.”

HAWTHORNE WAS LESS TOWN, more village. At least it had that feel. The streets were cobbled and narrow and we were the only car on them. Bicycles were the mode of transport here. Iron lampposts lined the streets and colorful awnings jutted over quaint stores with beveled glass windows. The scent of human was strong on the air along with a new scent, sweet and almost cloying.

“Do you smell that?”

“The sea? Yes.”

I sniffed the air. “No, the sweet smell.”

He shook his head. “We need to stop and ask for directions to the clifftop house.”

He pulled up outside a grocery store. “Wait here.”

“Nope, I’m coming with. We could do with picking up some food. I doubt the house will be stocked.”

He nodded curtly. “Good plan.”

We caught a few curious glances as we got out of the car and headed into the grocers. The scent of fresh fruit and vegetables overpowered my senses. Tate grabbed a basket as we entered, his huge frame blocking the doorway for a moment before we stepped into the cool interior lined with aisles stocked with goods. Fuck, maybe we should have made a list of essentials. With no idea how long we’d be staying, we needed to make sure we had enough food to keep us going. I might not be able to shift to Lycan, but it didn’t stop me from eating like one. We’d definitely need to hit up a butcher.

Tate made a beeline for the counter, where a young woman was watching us with wide eyes. She couldn’t have been much older than my twenty-four years, but definitely younger than Tate’s twenty-eight.

“Hello there, how can I help you?” She smiled brightly. “New to town? Passing through? How exciting.”

“Directions.” Tate’s voice was gruff and moody, typical for him, but the woman didn’t lose even a wattage on her smile.

“Of course. Where to?”

“Clifftop house,” Tate said.

She made an “o” with her mouth. “You’re the new owners?” She looked from Tate to me and then back to Tate.

“I am.” I joined Tate at the counter and gave her my most charming smile. “It belonged to my mother. She left it to me in her will.”

“Mariana Rivers is your mother?”

“You knew her?” Even as I said it, I knew that couldn’t be the case. This woman wasn’t much older than me; she couldn’t have known my mother.

“No,” she confirmed. “But I know the name. I mean it’s been a mystery for decades. The mysterious owner no one ever sees. Brown and Greene, the small estate agents up the road, manage the property. It’s how I know who owns it. Mr. Greene is my fiancé.” She raised her hand and showcased her ring finger complete with diamond ring. “Richie says the house has been in trust for over twenty years.” Her face fell. “And now you’re here, which means…I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“It’s okay. I don’t remember her, she left when I was three.”

She looked uncomfortable. “Oh…I’m sorry.”

“No need. Look, can you give us directions to the house, and is there some kind of food delivery service here?”

She clasped her hands together and smiled warmly, probably happy to be off the uncomfortable topic of child abandonment. “Yes on both counts. I’ll draw you a map, and if you give me a list of items you need, I can gather them for you and have them delivered later this afternoon.”

“We’ll need meat,” Tate said.

“I’ll speak to Jim, the butcher. Don’t worry, you’re one of us now, and in Hawthorne we take care of our own.” She pulled out a piece of paper and a pen. “We might not be under Accord rule, but we have our own system. Humans are safe here, and although we have pack protection, we aren’t owned by them.” She began to draw a map. “Hawthorne is probably the safest place in the city.” She finished the map and handed it to me. “There you go.”

“Thanks.” There was one more thing I needed to do, though. “Can you tell me where to find the pack?”

She blinked at me. “You don’t need to speak to them. Humans are free.”

I gave her a wry smile. “I know. But I’m not human.”

10

We left with two maps: one with directions to the clifftop house, the other with directions to Decker’s Bar, the only place in town where humans and supernaturals mingled freely. From the look of the maps, the bar overlooked the cove and the clifftop house overlooked the bar.

Tate steered the car up a winding road that took us into the summer sky, heat beating at my skin as we seemed to climb closer to the sun.

I plucked at my shirt, pulling it free of my sticky, sweaty skin. “I can’t wait to get in the shower.”

“Providing the water is on,” Tate said.

I stared at him in horror. “No water?”

He chuckled and flicked a warm glance my way. “The place has been empty for decades. We’ll probably need to turn on the power and water. Pipes might need a little time to warm up. I’ll need to locate the generator.”

“You know you don’t need to impress me with your man skills.”

His mouth lifted in a small smile. “You’re more than welcome to do the ‘man stuff’ if you like.”

Eeek. “No thank you. I’ll make lunch.”

“Deal.”

Damn, I was glad he was with me. Although I hated being pinned into stereotypical roles, I wasn’t about to be difficult about this when I genuinely had no clue where to look for a generator, let alone turn it all on. Plus if it was in the basement there could be spiders, and I hated spiders.

A shudder ran through me at the thought.

Tate took a right onto a narrow track bordered by shrubs and greenery. The track widened onto a cement road and iron gates came into view, rising up in black whorls to cut patterns against the clear blue sky.

“Looks like we’re here,” Tate said.

He brought the vehicle to a halt, engine idling, and I hopped out to get the gates. They opened with a creepy creak, worthy of any decent horror movie. Thank goodness for my Lycan strength because these gates were pure iron. Gates open, I stepped back, rubbing my tingling hands on jean-clad thighs. I must have pressed too hard, causing blood to rush to the surface of my skin.

The road beyond the gates was unkempt and grass sprouted up from cracks. The lawn on either side was a veritable jungle. Great, looked like this place hadn’t been looked after at all.

Hot water and power might be the least of our worries.

“Can you see the house?” Tate called out.

“Nope.” I hopped back into the car. “Let’s go find it.”

It was a two-minute drive down the cracked, wobbly road before the house came into view. It was a monstrosity of gray stone, ivy, and shuttered windows, sitting silent and alone, like an angry bruise beneath a bright blue summer sky.

Tate cut the engine. “Well…”

I flicked a cheeky glance Tate’s way. “It’s not like you to be lost for words.”

“Harumph.”

I climbed out of the car and tipped my head back to stare up at my house.

My house.

Shit, this monster of a building belonged to me.

“Well, halloooo there!”

A man in an ill-fitting brown suit appeared from around the house, pushing a battered bike.

Where the heck had he come from? “Who are you?” It came out sharper than intended, but he didn’t seem fazed.

“Leonard Brown at your service. Brown and Greene Associates.”

Ah, the estate agent the shop lady had told us about. Shit, I hadn’t bothered to get her name.

“We have keys.” I pulled them out of my pocket.

“Yes, of course, yes. I just wanted to welcome you, show you around, help you settle in…”

He let the sentence run on and then trailed off.

He crunched closer and I caught a whiff of the sweet, cloying scent I’d picked up in the main town.

Not human. “What are you?”

He gave me a close-lipped smile. “Why, I’m not sure what you mean.”

“You’re not human.”

He stared at me. “Excuse me, how—”

“Cut the crap, please.”

He balked and then eyed me warily. “How could you know? Humans don’t see. They don’t smell us.”

I leaned in, hand bracketing the side of my mouth. “I’m not human.”

He stepped back as if I’d threatened to take a bite out of him.

“What are you?” he threw back at me.

“Lycan—well, half-Lycan. Name’s Quinn. Nice to meet you.” I held out my hand for him to shake.

But he tucked it into his pocket, eyes wide. “No. No, you can’t be here. Lycans can’t get into Hawthorne.”

Did I need to get my heritage tattooed onto my forehead? “My human half is stronger than my Lycan.”

He looked to Tate. “And him?”

“Human.”

“You’ll need to speak to the alpha of the Hawthorne Pack. Explain why you’re here. He won’t like it. No Lycans. Nope, them’s the rules.”

“And why is that?” Tate asked.

He looked momentarily thrown. “Well, I don’t know, do I?”

I had been wondering why Lycans were the only breed of supernaturals barred from entry to the town. “I guess I’ll just have to find out for myself, won’t I?”

“Yes, you do that, and when you do, you tell him I didn’t know. You say, ‘Leonard did not know.’ Okay?” He steered his bike around me.

“I thought you wanted to show us around?” Tate said.

“I remembered I have a prior engagement. Must dash, bye.”

He broke into a jog, then leapt onto his bike and pedaled away.

Shit, he was fast. “Well, that was weird.”

“Hmmm.” Tate crossed his arms. “He seemed scared.”

“Yeah, I smelled it. I guess this Hawthorne Pack isn’t as benevolent as the human shopkeeper made out.”

“Or thinks,” Tate added. “Maybe the supernaturals of this town have a different experience.”

I shrugged. “Well, the plan is to get up close and personal with this pack. I’m sure I’ll find out what we’re dealing with soon enough.”

“We.”

“Huh?”

“We’ll find out,” Tate corrected. “You’re not here to do this alone, remember.”

His words were a reassuring squeeze, and the urge to hug him ripped through me. I resisted. Tate hugs were few and far between, and he usually preferred to instigate them, mainly when I was upset.

Instead, I chucked the keys at him. “Just for that, you get to be the first over the threshold. You can start by finding the generator.”

THE INTERIOR of the house was a huge contrast to the unkempt exterior. Clean, airy, and dust-free, the foyer floor a smooth expanse of polished cream tiles. A wide marble staircase with wrought iron banisters tapered up to the upper level, where a huge floor-to-ceiling window framed with gray drapes allowed sunlight to dribble down the cream steps. A black grand piano was parked to the left of the staircase, and beyond that were a couple of steps leading to another huge window.

A corridor ran behind the staircase and a patio door led out into a vast back garden. There was obviously a lot to explore, but my stomach grumbled, reminding me I hadn’t eaten since we’d stopped off for brunch three hours ago. The food delivery wouldn’t be here until later, but we’d picked up sandwich things.

“Help me find the kitchen.” I picked a direction and headed off in search of what should be the heart of any home. I mean, food. Come on.

It didn’t take long to locate the oblong room with a solid wooden island topped with a granite work surface. The stove looked like something out of a horror movie—you could cook a person in that thing.

“Wow.” Tate ran his hand over the countertops. “You can chop on this surface and not damage it.”

I shook my head. I’d never understand his fascination with cooking. “Great.”

He found the sink, a deep, ancient-looking thing, and turned the rusty tap. “Water is off.” He flipped a light switch. “Power too.”

He strode out of the room, probably off to look for the generator. I located the fridge inside a cupboard. It smelled clean and fresh, strange considering it hadn’t been used in two decades.

Shrugging it off, I headed back out to the car to grab our grocery bags. Figuring out why the house was in such good order would have to wait until after I’d fueled up.

I SET two plates of sandwiches on the table as Tate returned from his search. His cream tee was smeared with grime and his hair had a cobweb clinging to it, giving me hope he’d found what he’d been searching for.

I raked him over. “Basement?”

“Yep. Not too clean down there. But the power should be on.” He flipped the switch on the wall by the door and the weird chandelier light hanging above the island lit up.

I pointed a finger at it in warning. “You best watch your head around that thing.”

My five-foot-five height gave me plenty of room to avoid it, but his six-four frame had no chance.

I parked my butt at the table as he crossed the room to the sink. There was a clank and a rattle before brown water gushed out of the faucet.

I wrinkled my nose. “Gross.”

“Wait for it.” Long seconds passed and then it ran clear. “Bingo.”

I studied the back of his head as he washed up. His hair was speckled with whitish dust and I couldn’t help but reach over and ruffle it, dislodging debris all over the clean floor.

I’d have to tidy that up later. “How bad is it down there?”

He joined me at the table and took a huge gulp of his bottled water. “It’s packed with old furniture and junk. I’ll need to get a new bulb in and then we can take a look.”

We ate in silence for long minutes.

Tate was the first to break the silence. “So, what’s the plan with the pack?”

I chewed and swallowed the last of my doorstop sandwich and then let out a burp.

Tate didn’t even flinch. Bodily function shyness was no longer a thing with us. I’d broken that taboo when I’d let rip a couple of years ago after way too much pizza. I loved cheese, but boy did it give me gas.

And he was still waiting for me to lay out my stunning plan. “We introduce ourselves as freelance enforcers and we offer our services to the pack. They can’t kick us out. I own property and you’re human.”

God it sounded so basic, and even with the confidence saturating my tone, my gut squirmed with nerves. We knew nothing about this pack, nothing about how they operated or what their rules were; all we knew was that they scared the supernatural estate agent, made the humans feel safe, and that they’d somehow barred other Lycans from entering the town.

I needed to know more. I needed to know why?

From the look on Tate’s face, he was thinking the same thing.

“You want to go to Decker’s tonight?” he asked finally.

I wouldn’t sleep until this was done. “Yeah, let’s get it over with.”

“You want me geared up?”

I could feel the wicked gleam in my eye. “If we go in, we go in looking the business. Badass.”

Tate climbed off his stool with a sigh. “I best wash my hair, then.” He gathered the plates and popped them in the sink. “I’ll clean up when the shopping gets here. Let’s explore the rest of the house.”

I followed him out of the kitchen, excitement warring with nerves.

This had been my mother’s house. There could be clues here about her, something I could use to connect to her and learn more about her, but on the other hand my presence here was a lie, a ploy that would have to end as soon as I found what I’d come here for.

Dammit. Focus.

In a few hours I’d be facing the Hawthorne Pack with little or no information. My job was all about being prepared, but on this job, there was nothing to prepare with.

I didn’t like that.

I didn’t like it one bit.

11

The house was a maze of rooms, most bare and stripped of furniture, but two were made up with sheets on the bed and fresh flowers in vases on the windowsills.

I stood, hands on hips, staring at the flowers in my room. “Tate, this is weird.”

He came up behind me, sending gooseflesh racing up my back. “Hmmm. The estate agent?”

I turned my head to study his profile as he slipped past me. “You think he made the bed and put flowers out for us?”

Tate fingered the blooms. “Could have paid someone to come in and do it.”

“Why?”

“Not sure. Makes no sense.”

“Agreed.”

It was getting late, almost five in the afternoon. I still had to unpack, shower, and explore the house some more before we headed out.

“How far is this Decker’s place?”

Tate pulled the map from his jeans pocket and studied it. “According to this it’s about a quarter of a mile from the house, in the cove to the east of here. We should be able to see the cove from the house.”

I hurried to the window, but my room had a view of the front driveway where our car sat lonely and out of place on the gravel.

Tate strode out to the hall and into the room opposite mine. This was his room—dark wood paneling, huge log fireplace, and ornate four-poster bed. Wait, why did he have this room again?

“There.” Tate stood at the window looking out. “There might be a trail down from the house. We should be able to go on foot.”

The view from his window was an epic expanse of gray sea and blue sky. Below us was the backyard, overgrown with weeds and in need of a good landscape gardener. I spotted the top of a gazebo covered in hungry ivy and the edge of a patio dotted with moss. There was also a conservatory jutting out below us, glass covered in grime so that it was impossible to see inside.

The lawn stretched out as far as a black iron fence, just like the gates at the front, bordering the property. Beyond that was shrubbery and the hint of a narrow trail winding out of view, and farther than that was the edge of a sandy cove.

“Decker’s should be down there,” Tate said. “Out of view from here.”

“Okay, so let’s check it out.”

“I’ll go.” Tate headed for the door. “You rest up.”

He was gone before I could protest. I watched out the window until he appeared in the garden below, glancing up briefly and raising a hand before heading for the trail.

A yawn popped my jaw. The sea air was both invigorating and relaxing. Maybe a power nap was the ticket?

THE TRAIL HUGGED the cliff face, barely wide enough for two regular-sized people to walk side by side, but with Tate’s frame it was single file. It would have been perilous at night if not for Tate’s torch and the advantage of my preternatural sight. I took the lead, making sure I went slow so as not to lose Tate.

It was a ten-minute walk, but it beat the long way around by road. Finally, the moonlit cove came into view and the scent of the sea hit me full force, making my heart lurch with a strange longing for goodness knew what.

The sea itself was a dark, forbidding beast beneath an almost full moon, rushing in and out across the shore, eating away at a little more sand with each sweep.

Decker’s Bar was a single-story building that looked like an overgrown log cabin. A wooden deck complete with railings ran around the structure. Music drifted across the beach, something instrumental. Guitar, maybe?

Tate took the lead now, striding toward the bar with intent. He looked good in his stylishly ratty jeans, boots, and snug black tee. He’d slicked back his hair, accentuating his hard jaw, high cheekbones, and angry dark brows. He looked…hot.

Nope. Tate was not hot. Mental slap.

Okay, much better.

“You coming?” he called over his shoulder.

I’d wanted to wear my dust kicker, but it was way too hot for that, so I’d settled for black vest, cargo pants, and boots. I would have preferred sandals to let my feet breathe, but sandals didn’t say kickass.

I hurried to catch up with Tate. “I can’t wait to get back to the house and take off these boots.”

The lights from Decker’s spilled across the wooden deck and onto the sand only a meter away. The music was now loud enough to identify the tune as some folksy thing.

“Wait.” Tate stopped me with a gentle grip on my shoulder and studied my face with intense cocoa eyes. “Hold still.” He swiped his thumb under my eye and up. “Kohl was smudged.”

“Thanks.”

I hated putting this shit on. It made my face itch, but it had the desired effect of making my violet eyes stand out, giving me a dangerous edge. My slick, high ponytail completed the I-will-hurt-you look.

We crossed the deck and Tate pulled open the door to the bar. Heat slapped me in the face and a multitude of scents hit me. Human and supernatural body odors mingled. The place was rammed with casually dressed people, men in jeans and T-shirts, women in shorts and cami tops. Picking up a Lycan scent in this place was going to be next to impossible unless I had my nose up against my target. I’d need to ask someone to point out the alpha.

Tate, forever on the same wavelength as me, cut a path to the bar. Best place to get answers. I followed, trying to separate the scents. I caught a whiff of the sweet, cloying aroma I’d first noticed in the town again. What the hell was that? I took another whiff and gagged because the air was way too moist and frankly gross.

Too many bodies in such an enclosed space made for a sweaty time.

There wasn’t a spare seat in the room, but most surprisingly of all, no one batted an eye at our arrival. Heck, no one even looked our way despite how out of place we must have seemed.

We hit the bar and Tate moved aside to let me do my thing.

The barman finished serving a hairy dude with quivering jowls and headed our way. He was young, maybe late twenties, with sandy hair, pale blue eyes, and an epic smile that made me all warm and gooey inside.

“Well hello, beautiful. Wow, a man could drown in those eyes. New in town? You have to be, I mean, there is no way I’d have missed you.”

Maybe my I-will-hurt-you face wasn’t up to scratch. And why the fuck was I beaming up at him? “Finally, someone noticed.”

Shit, where did that flirty tone come from?

Tate cleared his throat.

Oh, crap. “Yeah, I’m looking for someone.”

“Oh?” The barman leaned across the bar. “Lost lover? Future lover? Any lover? I can be all three.”

A giggle erupted from my throat. What the heck was wrong with me? A whiff of something sweet tickled my senses.

The bar guy was not human. I pulled back. “What are you?”

“Very interested.” He inhaled. “Human with a hint of…What is that?”

“Lycan, and I’m looking for the Hawthorne Pack alpha.”

His eyebrows flicked up. “Oh, well that is interesting. Bryce isn’t here, but Jax, his beta, is around.” He jerked his head across the room. “Big guy with gorgeous almond-shaped lapis-blue eyes and a mane of hair that any woman would be proud of.” He sighed wistfully.

I blinked up at him. “Um…thanks. That’s very… descriptive.”

He grinned wryly. “Hey, what can I say, I’m an artist. This is just my night job. Follow the scent of pheromones, it should lead you right to him.”

“Hey, Dillon, hurry up, I’m dying of thirst here,” a customer called from down the bar.

Dillon rolled his eyes upward. “Coming, Larry.” He dropped me a wink and headed back down the bar.

I looked up at Tate to find him staring at me with a strange expression.

“What?”

“Did you just giggle?”

“You need to get your ears checked.” I pushed past him. “Come on, we need to find the pheromones.”

FORGET FOLLOWING PHEROMONES, all we needed to do was find the gaggle of women. A crowd surrounded a table, and the distinct aroma of sex was on the air. These women were horny, and I’d bet the object of their desire was the lapis-blue-eyed beta Dillon had told me about.

But cracking through the crowd of women was going to be a chore. They’d created a forcefield with their bodies that was practically impregnable.

I tried to slip through and ended up with an elbow to my gut and a lethal glare that made me seriously consider my badass vibe.

I guess there was nothing more dangerous than a predator guarding its kill, and there was no doubt in my mind what part of this Jax guy these women were planning to prey on.

I looked up at Tate. “Can you see him?”

“Yes.”

“What’s he doing.”

Tate cleared his throat. “Entertaining a woman on his lap. Vigorously.”

I caught the tail end of a moan. “Wait, what is he doing exactly.”

Tate’s cheeks flushed slightly. “I’m not entirely comfortable saying.”

Another moan was followed by, “Yes, oh yes.”

The crowd shuffled forward eagerly, as if feeding off the energy produced by whatever this Jax was doing to the woman on his lap.

“Out of the way!” A booming male voice disrupted the ambience.

People yelped, the air behind us shifted, and Tate grabbed my arm, yanking me out of the way as a huge guy, built like a tank, came barreling toward us. He brought the briny, sharp scent of the sea with him. Ropes of dark-green braided hair hung down to his pectorals. There were plenty of supernaturals in this bar, but most could pass for odd-looking humans. This guy was different. His face was flat, nose almost bridgeless with slits for nostrils slanting up. His lips were thin, almost non-existent, and his eyes had no whites. His inhuman face was contorted in an expression of rage. Rage that sizzled and beat off his skin.

“Corina!”

The crowd of women surrounding Jax parted, and I caught my first glimpse of the Hawthorne Pack beta.

Jax sat on a chair, legs splayed, golden mane of hair catching the light and falling about his shoulders in glistening silken waves. His lapis-blue eyes were dark with desire as he fingerfucked the woman draped over his knee. Her skirt was flipped up, revealing her ass and glistening lady bits as she pushed back into his hand, furiously chasing an orgasm.

The tank glared at the scene, chest heaving. “You fucking bastard.”

The woman shuddered and cried out, and with a final thrust Jax pulled his fingers out of her.

“There you go, pet. All good now.” He patted her ass.

The woman whimpered something that sounded like thank you.

“Corina. You faithless whore,” the tank bellowed.

The woman slipped off Jax’s knee and adjusted her skirt before staring at the monolith. “And you’re an inadequate lover.” Her oval face was pale and smooth, with black slanted eyes and slitted nostrils that matched the tank’s, but her mouth was full and luscious. “How long did you expect me to put up with your two-minute attempts at pleasure?” She flipped her hair and sashayed past the monolith.

I expected him to make a grab for her, stop her, rail at her, but he let her pass, his attention stoically fixed on Jax. “I warned you, Jax. I warned you what would happen if you came near her again.”

Jax wiped his hand on a napkin and stood, swaying slightly.

A lopsided grin lifted his mouth. “Oh, come on, Tidon, I was only trying to help. Keeping six women happy can’t be easy, and I know how demanding Corina can be.”

“My woman,” Tidon said. “You laid your hands on my woman.”

“Fingers,” Jax corrected, “and they were inside her.”

Tidon let out a roar.

“Whoa, big guy.” Jax held up his hands, swaying again but righting himself. “You know the rules. No touchy-touchy.”

Tidon made a strange rattling sound in his chest that made the hairs on my nape stand up. “No, Jax, the rules are no killy-killy.”

He rushed Jax, sweeping him off his feet, slamming him into the wall, and holding him there with one massive hand around his throat.

“Fuck!” Jax looked down at the tank from his spot pinned to the wall. “You need to see someone about your anger issues.”

Tidon pulled back his massive fist, ready to slam it into Jax’s face. The fucking idiotic Lycan just grinned at him and hiccupped. He was so drunk.

“Quinn…” There was warning in Tate’s tone.

I shot him an apologetic glance. “I have to.”

Tidon’s fist shot toward Jax just as I snagged the back of the tank’s shirt and hauled him away.

He swung round, fist sweeping over my head. Then his gaze dropped to mine and his brows snapped together in confusion.

“Hi.” I gave him a finger wave. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t break his face. I kinda need to speak to him.”

“This is none of your concern, human.” He frowned, probably realizing that there was no way a human could have yanked him back with such force. “You’re not human.”

“Nope. And I have business with Jax.”

My gaze flicked to the beta, who was back in his seat, glugging from a jug as if he hadn’t just been slammed into a wall and almost had his face broken.

Seriously, what the hell was up with him?

“This is none of your concern, woman,” Tidon growled. “Interfere again in male business and I will treat you like an interfering male.”

Anger flared in my chest. Fucking sexist pig. “Act like a whiny bitch and I’ll treat you like one. Your woman came here to get fingered by another male, so yes, you do have a problem, but it isn’t Jax, it’s your choice in skanky women. Beating on him won’t change that.”

His chest rattled and a white film snapped over his dark eyes. “You filthy-mouthed—”

“Enough!” Dillon appeared behind us. “Get out, Tidon. Now.”

Tidon glared at Dillon and clenched his fists. “I am owed recompense.”

“You’re owed nothing,” Dillon said evenly. His tone was no longer light and conversational. The melodious quality from earlier was gone. There was a lethal edge to it now, as if he was balancing on a knife’s edge between civil and rip-out-your-insides. “Leave and don’t come back,” he ordered.

Dillon was a waif compared to Tidon—barely six feet, wiry with an athletic build. Tidon was huge in comparison. His fist was the size of Dillon’s head and his arm the size of Dillon’s thigh, but instead of challenging the much smaller guy, Tidon seemed to deflate.

Dillon sighed. “Go home, Tidon, and learn to choose your lovers with more care. Corina isn’t for you because she allows herself to be for anyone and everyone.”

Tidon looked back at Jax, jaw jutting forward mulishly. “You make me sick, Jax. You’re a stain on the pack name.”

Jax burped loudly and held up his empty jug.

Tidon shook his head in disgust and stomped through the crowd and out into the night.

Dillon ran a hand over his face and raised his hands. “Music, merriment. Back to the fun, all!”

His austere expression was gone, and he was back to jovial barman.

I caught his eye as he turned away and he dropped me another wink before heading back to the bar.

“That was…strange,” Tate said.

“Tell me about it.” I turned back to Jax, but the table where he’d been sitting was empty. “Fuck.”

We caught up to him outside trying to slot keys into his ride. A muscle bike, Harley maybe? I wasn’t too up to speed on bikes, but this one was gorgeous.

“No.” Tate plucked the keys from his hands.

“Hey.” Jax turned to face us, but his legs tangled and he fell back against his bike. “Do you know who I am?” He hiccupped.

Oh, God, he was ridiculous. “You’re the beta of the Hawthorne Pack and you’re drunk.”

He tipped his head to the side. “You have pretty eyes.”

He had pretty eyes too, and a gorgeous face, aquiline nose, square jaw, and the kind of mouth that smiled easily. There was a charisma about him, even while intoxicated, that buzzed against my skin. I could see what the ladies saw in him, but not me.

I liked my men capable. “I need to speak to you.”

“Hmmm, sure. Yeah, go on.” He waved a hand at me and closed his eyes. “Listening. Just need the world to stop spinning. Make it quick, though, I have somewhere to be.”

Oh boy. “My name’s Quinn. I just inherited a house here. I wanted to come introduce myself to the pack because I’m part Lycan.” I paused, waiting for a reaction.

He didn’t even flinch.

Wait… “Hello?”

Tate reached out and prodded Jax’s shoulder.

The Lycan slipped to the side and then keeled over, hitting the sand with a soft thud before letting out an epic snore.

I stared at the huge beta. “Is he…”

“Yeah, Quinn, he’s knocked out.”

Great. Just fucking great.

12

Tate sipped his coffee across the island from me. “I don’t like this. We shouldn’t have brought him back with us last night.”

“We couldn’t just leave him there on the sand.”

Tate had rushed back into the bar to look for Dillon, but the barman had switched out with someone else.

“Yeah, I guess.” Tate didn’t look convinced.

There was something that bothered me, though. “He doesn’t smell Lycan.”

“What?” Tate frowned. “What does he smell like?”

“I don’t know.”

“You think Dillon lied?”

“No, Tidon said Jax was a disgrace to the pack.”

Tate pursed his lips in thought. “Then this pack must be different.”

“Not Lycan?”

He shrugged. “It’s not like we know anything about them. Not even Ronuld knows. He told you about this artifact but not what it is or where to find it. If no Lycan has been inside Hawthorne for…however long, then maybe the pack that calls this place home isn’t Lycan.”

Shit. “This could complicate things.”

“Or make it easier,” Tate said. “You saw Jax. Betas don’t act like that.”

“Like prats?”

The corner of Tate’s mouth twitched. “Exactly.”

Ronuld ruled with an iron grip. He made sure shit was kept in order and Lycans did their jobs, and my father the beta was just as strict. “This pack might not be as organized as Lycan packs, which will make getting what we want easier.”

“We won’t know until we speak to Jax. I doubt he’ll be awake anytime soon. He was out cold. I’m going to shower, then we’ll speak to him together.”

He left the kitchen, and I gathered the breakfast things. It was my turn to clean up. The food had arrived yesterday before we’d headed out, so the kitchen was nicely stocked. There was even beer in the fridge.

“Nice.”

I spun, suds spraying, to find a half-naked Jax leaning against the doorjamb.

I swallowed the sudden lump in my throat. “Where are your clothes?”

He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth. “I was hot.” He raked me over. “So last night…fun, huh?”

I blinked at him. “You think almost getting your face smashed in and then passing out on the sand is fun?”

He pouted. “Oh…So you and I, we didn’t…”

Wait, what. “Ew, no.”

He flinched and rubbed his cobbled abs. “Ouch.”

“How much do you remember?”

He winced. “It’s coming back to me. Bits and pieces, and you… You stepped in to stop Tidon.”

I sighed and wiped my hands on a tea towel. “Yeah. I needed to speak to you.”

He narrowed his eyes. “So you kidnapped me and brought me to your lair?”

“Are you ever serious?”

He ran his tongue across his teeth and shrugged. “Only when I have a naked female beneath me.”

My neck heated. “Look, Jax, I’m a half-Lycan and I’m in your pack territory, so I thought I should introduce myself and get the okay to be here.”

He tensed and then he was across the room in a blink, shoving me against the counter and running his nose up the side of my neck. A low growl reverberated in his chest. Warning. Danger.

I froze on instinct, the primitive side of me recognizing the potential threat. Gone was the amiable man of a moment ago, and in its place was a predator ready to rip out my throat if it didn’t like what it found.

He inhaled deep and then he licked me with his warm, wet tongue. A shudder ripped through me, lashing down to the apex of my thighs in an aching throb.

He slowly leaned back, hands still gripping the counter either side of me, body still caging me in. The pose was relaxed, but there was no mistaking the tension winding through his body and bunching in his shoulders. If I tried to break free, I’d meet resistance. But I was here to earn his trust, his pack’s trust, which meant compliance.

“What are you doing?” My voice was an uncharacteristic squeak.

“Testing you.” His tone was deeper—less man, more beast. “Lycan, but faintly, barely there, and something else. Something more.”

His lapis-blues swirled with flecks of indigo. It was hypnotic and my tense muscles unknitted and relaxed.

“What are you, really?” His voice reverberated in my head like a pleasant hum.

“Lycan and human…” The breathless whisper belonged to someone else.

He leaned in so his lips were mere inches from mine. “Tell me the truth.”

“I am.”

He gripped my jaw and tilted my chin up so our mouths were centimeters apart and his breath was a delicious sting against my parted lips.

“Let’s see, shall we.” He licked my mouth, tongue flicking upward to catch on my top lip.

My gasp stuck in my throat and the urge to push him away warred with the primitive instinct to remain deathly still. His eyes narrowed a fraction and then he pressed his hot, naked torso against me as if pushing me, taunting me to react. My breath remained shallow, body still as stone as his heat filtered through the thin cotton of my shirt to mingle with mine.

He licked me again, then caught my bottom lip between his teeth, sucking gently on it, eliciting an echoing throb between my legs. I pressed my thighs together and bit back a moan.

Finally, he pulled back and licked his lips. “Human and Lycan.” He pushed away from the counter, releasing me from the cage of his arms.

It was over.

I exhaled, indignation climbing up my body in a wave of heat. “What. The. Fuck.”

He shrugged. “You come into my territory and declare you’re Lycan. I needed to be sure.”

“I told you what I was.”

“Yes, Lycan and human. I needed to know how much Lycan you had in you before deciding whether to rip out your throat.” He spoke casually, which made the words hit even harder.

My hand went to my collar, ice trickling through my veins. “What?”

“The fact that you made it past the barrier tells me the Lycan in you is weak. I just needed to make sure it was weak enough. Lycans aren’t welcome in Hawthorne.”

I’d passed. He wasn’t going to kill me. Relax. Focus. “So I’ve heard. Why is that, exactly?”

His gaze tracked across my face. “This place has a strange effect on them.” He held a finger to his temple and twirled it. “Drives them…insane. Makes them…dangerous.”

Jax was dangerous. I’d felt the zing of threat when he’d been pressed up against me. The lazy, relaxed exterior was a front for the beast beneath. There was no doubt in my mind that if I’d failed his test, he would have killed me. Yes, he was dangerous, but he wasn’t insane, which meant my sense of smell was spot-on. “You’re not Lycan, are you?”

“Nope.”

“What are you?”

“Hungry.” He rubbed his abs again. “You got anything to eat? Nah, forget that. I’ll grab something in town.”

He headed toward the door.

That was it? “Hey, wait.”

He looked back over his shoulder. “I’m sorry, did you want to get serious with me?”

I rolled my eyes. “No. I need to know if I have pack permission to be here. I was hoping to work for the pack, actually. I’m a freelance enforcer.”

“Oh, that.” He grinned. “You need to speak to the alpha about that one. Not my call.”

What? Fucker!

“YOU SHOULD HAVE CALLED ME.” Tate looked pissed.

“I was kinda busy being shoved up against the counter and sniffed.” I left out the part with the licking and sucking.

Tate’s eyes flashed with anger. “He laid hands on you?”

“Standard shifter protocol: sniff first, explain later. He needed to see how Lycan I was. Apparently, this place drives Lycans nutty, but I might be safe due to the diluted essence of Lycan in my blood. Either way, I need to speak to the boss for permission to stay.”

“But they can’t kick us out. You own a house. I’m human.” Anger had morphed to concern now.

“Yeah, but they can make it difficult for me to stay or, you know, kill me.” I grinned to let him know I was playing.

Tate gave me a sharp look. “Don’t joke about shit like that.”

It was a real possibility, though. Not now, but maybe later, if I got caught stealing their artifact, but there was no need to dwell on that just yet.

I didn’t want Tate worrying, though, or doing something brave but dumb. “Relax, I plan to see many more birthdays.”

“Less than a week,” Tate said.

“What?”

“Till your twenty-fifth.”

Huh? What was the date? “No…”

“Yes.”

“Shit.”

He smiled and shook his head. “You remember everyone’s special days, birthdays, anniversaries, but you always forget your own.”

On account of that was the day my mother left. It was one of my earliest memories. Of waiting by a huge birthday cake for my mother to come back from the store. I couldn’t remember her face, but I remembered the way she’d smelled, fresh and briny like the ocean. Maybe that was why being here, with the scent of the ocean constantly around, was so comforting. I remembered the ache in my belly as the minutes turned to hours and she never came back. I remembered the confusion and grief.

I’d mourned her for so long and all this time she’d been alive somewhere. Away from me. I wanted to hate her for that, but how could I when I had no clue what had made her leave?

She’d loved me. I was sure of that much.

“We’ll do something,” Tate said softly.

I blinked back the memory and smiled brightly. “Anything but Decker’s Bar; that place smells odd. Oooh, maybe we can go dancing.” I gave him a sly smile. Tate hated dancing.

He met my gaze levelly. “Deal.”

What? “Seriously?”

The corner of his mouth lifted. “Seriously.”

“Okay, who are you and what have you done with my best friend?”

His chuckle was a warm, comforting sound, but then he sobered. “When do we meet the pack?”

I winced because he wasn’t going to like this. “We don’t. I do. I have to go alone.”

His jaw set stubbornly. “No.”

“It’s how it has to be. Jax is picking me up this evening.”

Tate massaged his temple. “Quinn…”

He was worried about me. Scared. I could smell it. “I’ll be fine. I got this under control.”

But with no clue what breed of shifter I was dealing with, I wasn’t sure I had anything under control, and from the look on Tate’s face, he knew it too.

I STARED at my neatly made bed, pillows placed on top of a fresh duvet, then backed out of my room and hollered.

“Tate!”

Heavy bootfalls ran up the stairs. “What is it?”

“Tate, my bed’s made.”

He frowned, then his eyebrows shot up. Because he knew better than anyone that I never made my bed. I reasoned I was gonna get into it again later anyway, so why bother.

“I didn’t do it,” Tate said.

“I figured.”

He strode into the room and began to search: under the bed, wardrobe, en suite. “There’s no one here.”

I crossed my arms, the ridiculousness of the situation hitting me. “Someone snuck into the house and made my bed.”

He caught his bottom lip between his teeth. “Or someone was already here.”

“What do you mean?”

“There are tales of houses inhabited by creatures who take care of the house and its occupants. Fae creatures. Purebloods.”

“There aren’t any purebloods in the city. They’re all in the Evergreen. They didn’t agree with the Accords, so they left.”

“But Hawthorne isn’t really part of the city, is it?”

He had a point. “So, you think we have a fae living in the house?”

“A brownie. House spirits. Very shy from what I’ve read.”

The thought that a fae was hiding in the house, watching us, listening to us, creeped me out.

I shook my head, resolute. “No. We need to get rid of it.”

Tate’s frown deepened. “We can’t do that. This is its home. Forcing it out could kill it.”

Shit. “I don’t like this, Tate. I don’t like sharing my space with a hidden entity.” I walked into the room, tipping my head back. “You hear me, brownie. If you want to stay here, you need to come out and introduce yourself.”

“Quinn.” Tate touched my elbow lightly. “You’ll scare it.”

“I’ll scare it. It snuck into my room and made my bed.”

He gave me a look that said, listen to yourself.

Urgh. “Okay, that sounds ridiculous.”

“The clean house, the fresh flowers…” Tate held out his hands. “It’s taking care of the house and us.”

I imagined a cute, homey little thing with a duster and a mop quivering in a corner, afraid of eviction from the nasty Lycan who’d invaded its home.

I exhaled in defeat. “Fine. It can stay.”

“I doubt we have much of a choice,” Tate said.

I didn’t like being pinned in.

“We’re almost out of milk. I’m going to pop into town. Do you need anything?”

He was going to leave me alone in the house with a hidden fae? “Chocolate.”

“I’ll be back soon.”

He left and I walked over to the bed and sat down. “You here? Can you hear me? Listen, I get this is your home, but while I’m here, stay out of my room, okay. This is my space. No making the bed or putting fresh flowers in the vase. This room is off limits. Deal?” I paused for a beat. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

The distant growl of the car coming to life told me Tate was leaving, and being in the house alone with this brownie thing wasn’t appealing.

I grabbed some sweats and a vest from the dresser. The garden was a shithole. It was time to start kicking it into shape.

YARD WORK in midday sun in the height of summer was a bad idea. Half an hour in and I was dripping with sweat and ready to call in professional gardeners. The lawn was massive, probably beautiful in its heyday. I pulled off the rubber gloves I’d decided to use as garden gloves, grabbed my bottle of water, and waded through the grass toward a stone bench by the fence. A tree towered over it, providing blessed shade. The gazebo would have been the perfect choice if I could get in, but it was covered in a net of ivy.

The stone was cool, and the shade slipped over my skin like a much-needed glass of cold water.

I glugged from the bottle and wiped my mouth. My scalp pricked, heat sweeping across my nape in warning. I was being watched. The land beyond the fence was less grass and more rock and moss, stretching out toward the cliff overlooking the sea. The vista was free of people.

But the feeling persisted, my senses warning me I wasn’t alone. The brownie? Was it out here with me?

“Meow.”

I looked up at slanted green eyes set in an inky black face.

“Meow,” the cat said again.

“Hello.” I peered up at the creature lying across the branch above me. “And who do you belong to?”

The cat blinked. “I’m my own person.”

My heart stuttered, then thudded hard against my ribs. “I’m going insane.”

“Are you?”

Fuck. “You’re talking.”

“So are you.”

“But you’re a cat.”

“How observant.” He licked his paw and rubbed his ear.

“Cats don’t usually speak.”

“Don’t they? Maybe you’ve just never listened.”

Bullshit. I’d been around cats before—not often because in general cats didn’t like Lycans and stayed off pack land—but they had never been too bothered by me. Cats as a rule didn’t speak. This was no cat. It was something else in cat form.

“What are you?”

“What are you?”

“I asked first.”

“And I asked second.” He peered down at me. “We could go on like this and waste time or I could tell you a secret.”

Suspicious. “Why would you do that?”

“Because I’m bored.” He flicked his tail.

Sod it. I wanted to know the secret. “Fine. Tell me.”

He purred as if pleased by my response. “This town isn’t what you think, and the people aren’t what you think.”

“Oh?”

He walked across the branch nimbly and then dropped his body to the wood and tipped his head to the side, looking at me with huge green eyes.

His pupils dilated. “You aren’t what you think either.”

A prickle of unease swept up my spine and settled at my nape. “What do you mean?”

“You’ll find out soon enough.” He turned and leapt off the branch, over the fence, landing on the rocky ground beyond. “And when you do, if you need someone to talk to, you can find me.”

He padded away.

“Wait, where? Where can I find you?”

But he dove into some shrubs and was gone.

13

TATE

Q uinn loves chocolate, the dark kind and the kind with nuts in it. Maybe I should grab some truffles too. She loves truffles.

What’s that? A magazine on antiques? Could be interesting. I add it to my basket. What I need is a library. Does the house have one? There are a few locked rooms. I’ll need to find a key, or maybe I can make one. Yes. I’ll grab some supplies. There might be books on antiques that’ll help me identify some of the items in the basement.

Is there a loft?

There could be interesting finds there too.

If I clear out a room, I can catalogue them.

I need a bulb too.

Steak…Yes, Quinn loves steak. I’ll cook for her later.

I place the basket on the counter and the checkout lady smiles and flutters her lashes at me. She’s flirting with me. I’m not interested, but I do the polite thing and smile. The grocery store Quinn and I went to yesterday was closed for lunch so I’m here.

Now I wish I’d waited for it to open.

“So, how are you and your friend finding the clifftop house?” she asks.

“Good.”

“Is it your first home together?” She looks at my left hand, searching for a ring. “Must be nice up there just the two of you. Romantic.”

She’s fishing. I don’t like hooks. Engaging is always a bad idea because then they want more, then follows the inane conversation, the social niceties, and the uncomfortable smiles. It’s draining, sapping energy from more important thoughts.

“Hmmm.”

Her face falls as she comes to the conclusion that Quinn and I are a couple. I don’t care to correct her. Her opinion isn’t important to me. I need her to ring up my items so I can get back to the house, back to Quinn.

The brownie incident spooked her. She may not have said it, but I saw it in her eyes. Maybe I should have insisted she come with me, but my need for a little alone time was too strong.

Being around people for too long makes my skin itch. Quinn’s the exception. But even then, I need to get away for a little while. The drive down here helped. This woman talking at me isn’t.

Not responding usually works, so I do that. Staring out the window and ignoring her helps, and before long she’s packed up my items.

“Forty-nine fifty.” She looks annoyed.

I don’t care. I pay, grab my bags, and get the hell out of there. The air is warm and humid, but nectar compared to the air-conditioned chatty air inside the store. People stroll past and glances flick my way, but no one speaks to me.

Bliss.

I should head back, but my mind craves a little more alone time. There’s a café across the street with outdoor seating.

Perfect.

Five minutes later I’m nursing an icy lemonade and people-watching. It’s soothing to study people, to listen as long as I’m not expected to engage.

A middle-aged couple carrying a tray of tea and cake take the table to my left, and I studiously avoid eye contact, pulling out my phone to scan the news.

“I can’t believe it,” the woman says. “In my lifetime too.”

The clatter of teaspoon against ceramic follows.

“It’ll be interesting,” the man says. “Once every fifty years, and we’ll be here to witness it.”

I can’t help but tune in.

“They say there are two moons in the sky on the night they’re chosen.” The sound of tea being slurped follows.

I wince.

“Not possible,” the man replies.

“My grandmother told me. She saw it with her own eyes.” The woman sounds indignant. “Two moons, she said, and there was music on the air. It finds them, you know, and they have no choice but to go.”

There’s chewing and more slurping.

“They’ve started arriving in town,” the man says around whatever he’s chewing. “The boarding house took in three yesterday.”

“And we have our residents too. Gladys has been in a flap all week, worried about Petunia.”

“I don’t understand. If it’s a bad thing, why do they come?” the man asks.

“There’s a mark, Gladys says so. And my grandmother said it’s vital to the protection of the town.”

“The barrier?”

“Yes. The pack, the Calling, everything.”

The pack?

“Well, I for one won’t be leaving the house that day,” the man says firmly.

I’m holding my breath, waiting for more.

“Benji has to make a pirate ship for school,” the woman says finally.

“Hmmm, I can help.”

“He wants to do it by himself, Tom, and you know how you always take over.”

“I do not.”

“You do too.”

I tune out and drain my lemonade. I have no idea what this Calling is, but if it’s related to the pack, then I need to find out more about it.

14

QUINN

I sat back and patted my belly. “That was delish.”

Tate smiled and sipped his water.

“So, what are you going to do while I’m gone?”

“Worry.”

“Tate…”

He slow-blinked. “I’m going to make a skeleton key and get into the locked rooms.”

I knew what this was about. “You’re looking for book treasure.”

He cracked a smile. “Yes. I have a plan.”

Tate with a project was a happy Tate. “Good. When I get back, maybe we can watch a movie.”

“There’s no TV, Quinn.”

He sounded a little too happy about that.

“iPad with mobile data.” I wiggled my eyebrows, but he had a faraway look in his eyes. He was dwelling on something. “You’re still thinking about this Calling thing, aren’t you?”

“Yes. It could be important and it’s due to happen soon.”

I shrugged. “So I’ll ask Jax about it.”

“You think he’ll tell you?”

“Worth a try. I mean if the townsfolk know about it, then it can’t be that much of a secret, right?”

“True.”

“Honey, I’m home!”

I looked up as Jax appeared in the kitchen doorway behind Tate. His mane of golden hair was pulled off his face and tied at the nape so his chiseled features were accentuated. He looked fresh and smelled like summer, and he was dressed in stylishly ripped jeans and a casual cream tee that hugged his rounded shoulders and pecs and skimmed his slender hips.

He looked like he’d stepped off the cover of a magazine.

Tate tensed, then turned in his chair to face the shifter.

Jax looked him over with blatant interest. “You must be the human.”

“You must be the unknown breed of shifter,” Tate retorted in his gravelly baritone.

Jax’s mouth lifted in a lopsided smile. “Are you worried we’ll devour your hybrid girlfriend?”

I expected Tate to say I wasn’t his girlfriend, but instead he shrugged. “Quinn can take care of herself, and if any harm does come to her, I’m sure I’ll find a way to make you pay.” His casual, conversational tone gave the words even more impact.

Jax’s eyes flinched, and I caught the shadow of the beast within, then he shrugged, grinned, and patted Tate on the shoulder.

I caught Tate stiffen, but he didn’t shrug off Jax’s hand.

“You’re good, buddy,” Jax said. “She’ll be fine. I’ll have her back before midnight.”

“Ten p.m.,” Tate said. “We have plans.”

He made it sound like we had a date.

Jax’s mouth turned down and he nodded. “I’ll do my best.” His gaze flicked to me. “We best go. Bryce doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

I pushed back my seat. “I’m ready.”

“YOU WANT me to get on that!” I stared at the huge motorbike. What had I expected? I’d seen him with his bike the other night. Shit. “I prefer cars.”

“And I prefer not to keep my alpha waiting.”

“We can take my car?”

“No. No, we can’t.” Jax’s amiable expression grew stony. “We take the bike.” He slung a leg over and settled in his seat before handing me a helmet. “Get on.”

Fuck. I shoved it on and was instantly enveloped by the aroma of strawberries. I gripped his shoulder to steady myself and then climbed on behind him. The wide, thick frame between my thighs sloped forward, pushing me up against Jax’s back.

“Hold on.” He started the engine.

“Wait, where’s your helmet.”

“You’re wearing it.”

The bike lurched forward, and with a yelp, I wrapped my arms around his waist as we shot into motion down the drive.

I should have asked where exactly we were headed, but it was too late now. We zoomed out of the gates and onto the cracked road beyond. I expected the ride to be rocky, but I didn’t feel anything but the vibration of the engine between my thighs.

I locked my hands around Jax’s slender waist and hung on for dear life. He stuck to the outskirts of town, staying on the dusty roads that overlooked the sea. The pack obviously didn’t live in the town.

It was to be expected.

Shifters loved their space.

The sandy road gave way to cement, and we were whizzing down a road bordered by lush green trees and bushes. The sky bled as the sun set.

My night vision kicked in just as Jax swerved sharply off the road and straight toward the bushes. A scream locked in my throat, then we were zooming down a dirt track and onto a neatly clipped lawn that seemed to stretch out forever. A massive three-story house with sections jutting out of it came into view set against a rapidly darkening sky. Forestland cut an inky, jagged silhouette that stretched out from either side of the epic building.

Jax drove us across the lawn and onto a massive circular drive complete with an ornate fountain in the center.

He brought the bike to a halt and cut the engine. “Home sweet home.”

I looked up at the opulent building just as lights winked on in all the windows. “Your pack lives here?”

Jax grinned and reached for my helmet, gently tugging it off my head. “Yep.” He chuckled. “Helmet head.”

Shit. I clambered off the bike, legs wobbly, and tipped my head forward, ruffling my hair before snapping it back.

Jax was already halfway to the front doors.

I jogged to catch up. “Anything I should know before we go in?”

He paused and looked back at me, his usually warm eyes cold and detached, as if something else was looking out at me from beneath his skin.

“Don’t talk back. Don’t question him. He won’t tolerate it, and he will hurt you.”

“Good to know.”

He veered away from the front doors and strode alongside the house. Maybe a side door?

But we passed the end of the building and he kept going toward the treeline.

Disconcertion bloomed in my chest. I loved the forest, the outdoors, running, but the last time I’d taken a run I’d been attacked by rogue Lycans.

“Um, Jax? Where are you taking me?”

“To see the alpha.”

“In the forest?”

“Where else do you expect to find a beast?”

My heart pounded harder the closer we got to the treeline. Focus, Quinn. Badass mode activated, come on. There was nothing more inflammatory to the shifter than the scent of fear. If I wanted to gain the Hawthorne Pack alpha’s respect, I needed to show no fear.

The shadow of the trees blocked out the moon and Jax came to a standstill.

He swept his arm toward the forest. “He’s waiting.”

Panic licked at my belly. “Wait, you’re not coming with me?”

He chuckled. “What? Do you need me to hold your hand, freelance enforcer?”

Shit. “Pfft, no.”

He bridged the distance between us and leaned in, warm breath tickling my ear. “You might want to regulate that pounding heart of yours, because right now, you sound and smell like prey.”

Shit. I swallowed the lump in my throat, but the memory of my attack was clawing at my mind. What the heck was wrong with me? I was Lycan, we got into scrapes all the time. I’d survived. It was all good. The rogues were dead. All fucking good, but my stomach refused to stop quivering. I could have died. I could have given in to the rogues, but I’d fought, even though the odds had been clearly against me.

I wasn’t weak.

I was nobody’s prey.

I was a fucking predator.

An eerie calm settled over me and I turned my head to meet Jax’s gaze with a cool, level one of my own. “Let’s get something straight, Jax. I’m many things, but I am not, and never will be, prey to anyone.”

Jax’s eyes narrowed, and he held my gaze for long, agonizing seconds, but instead of making me cower, his intense scrutiny gave me strength. I wanted what Ronuld offered. I needed it, and the first step was waiting for me in the forest.

“See you in a few.” I stepped into the trees.

THE TEMPERATURE WENT from balmy to chilly as soon as I moved under the cover of trees. With no idea how far to go, I kept walking, senses on alert for sound—the crack of a twig, the pant of a breath, anything.

Silence pressed in on me, unnatural and eerie, because forests were never quiet; there was always some creature pottering about, be it night or day. But tonight, the only sound was the thud of my steady heartbeat. Fuck this. The alpha was expecting me, so making me stand about in a forest surrounded by creepy silence was simply a power play on his part.

I didn’t like being toyed with. “Hello! I know you’re out there, so if you don’t mind, can we get this over with?”

I wouldn’t have thought it was possible, but the deep silence thickened and then every hair on my body stood to attention. The Lycan inside me tensed, hackles rising and quivering with the absolute certainty that I was no longer alone.

A deep, rattling growl vibrated the air to my left and terror fisted my heart, forcing the heat of adrenaline to saturate my limbs. It was flight or fight, but instead my legs gave way, pulling me to the ground in a purely primitive defensive position. I waited, body low, arms up, ready to protect myself.

The rattling growl came again, to the right now, closer. So close that the air reverberated against my skin.

Breath coming fast and shallow, bladder tight with the need to expel, I tucked in my chin, dropping my gaze as the Lycan inside me recognized the superiority of the predator circling me. It surrounded me with its scent—a sharp, musky aroma that clung to the back of my throat.

“So you’re the little hybrid in my territory.” The voice was lava, thick and deep, evoking a strange heat in the pit of my belly. “I can smell your fear, little one.”

I wanted to speak, but my mouth was ashes, and my heart was a hummingbird slamming itself against the cage of my ribs.

“Why are you here, Lycan?” He said the word as if it was a dirty thing.

And, oh, God, he expected me to reply. I licked my lips and squeezed my eyes shut. Come on, Quinn, you’ve got this. “I inherited a house.” My words were less than a whisper. Shit. Speak up, dammit. “My mother’s house.” Louder this time. Good.

“The clifftop house, yes. It passes through hands. But why come? Why leave your life. Surely you’ve heard the stories of this place?”

“Rumors. But nothing much.” I sounded almost normal now and it gave me confidence. “My partner and I…We wanted a fresh start. A home.”

“You want to make Hawthorne your home?”

“Yes. Please. I can work for you. I’m a freelance enforcer.”

A derisive chuckle was followed by a rush of air, and then hot, wet breath blasted the side of my face and the hummingbird in my chest choked, because even though I couldn’t see it, I could sense his magnitude, his power, the danger. The real mortal fucking danger. It zinged across my scalp and dug its claws into my neck.

I’d almost been torn to shreds by rogue Lycans. I’d been scared, but the heat of adrenaline had allowed me to set aside the fear and fight. But now, with the alpha of the Hawthorne Pack breathing down on me, and with his undeniably predatory presence hammering my skin, I finally appreciated the meaning of being shit scared. My bladder threatened to let go and my breath came too fast, limbs trembling with fear. I needed to run, but if I did that I was as good as dead.

“You want to work for me?” His tone dropped to an impossibly deep timber, one only a Lycan ear could pick up. “You, a terrified, sniveling specimen? What could you ever do for me?”

I opened my mouth and all I could manage was a squeak.

He moved behind me and something sharp and tapered brushed the back of my neck. A claw. He had a claw to my neck. Fuck. I squeezed my eyes shut, breathing shallowly through my nose.

“There is no room for fear in my world. No place for a coward. It would be an act of kindness to simply put you down.”

My neck burned. He’d cut me. Dug the tip of his claw into my flesh and cut me. In that moment, I knew with absolute certainty that I’d failed some kind of test.

He was about to kill me.

I hadn’t come here to die. Tate was waiting for me. I had to make it back to him. I pictured his serene features. His warm brown eyes and his rare smile. The icy terror ebbed, and warmth took its place. The warmth that only Tate’s presence evoked. Safety. Security. Home.

Terror loosened its grip enough for my mind to kick into gear, working on this problem, finding a way out. I had little control over my primal responses, but I had total control over my words, and with that, the way out was clear.

I opened my eyes and lowered my arms, heartbeat steadying. “I came here to respectfully ask for permission to reside in your territory on behalf of my Lycan side. But my human half needs no such permission. I have a home here, and I’m entitled to stay, whether you like it or not.”

The weight of his presence pressed down on me. “You think being half human will save your life?”

“One can only hope.” The words were out before I could stop them.

Shit.

“You’re no longer afraid?”

Lying was not an option. “Oh, I’m afraid. I’d be a fool not to be. I’ve just accepted it.”

Silence stretched for long, agonizing seconds during which I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d miscalculated. My half-human status had never provided me any protection before, so why would it protect me now?

He removed his claw from my nape. “Go. You may stay in Hawthorne.”

I sagged, palms hitting dirt. Oh, fuck. Thank fuck. I shifted, about to move away, and remembered the real reason for my visit.

Shit. “Wait, can I work for you?”

His exhale stirred the tendrils of hair that clung to my sweaty temple. “I’m not sure if you’re brave or stupid.”

The tension had lifted enough to loosen my tongue. “I can be both. I’m also very good at what I do. Let me be useful.”

Shadows moved around me, shapes breaking cover, impossibly large beasts unlike anything I’d ever seen. They were on all fours, at least four feet high with jaws so wide they could swallow a torso whole. Black as night with ridges riding up their snouts and rising up on their heads, they looked prehistoric. A cross between a hyena and a big cat but super-sized with rough, furless hides.

What the fuck were they? What had I gotten myself into?

This was the pack. Seven, eight, shit, I lost count. The one directly in front of me fixed its amber eyes on me, black slitted pupils expanding to drink in the light filtering through the canopy above. A rattling growl, similar to the sound the alpha made but slightly higher in tone, vibrated its throat.

The alpha answered in kind, his growl beating at the back of my neck, and then something wet and warm laved my skin, sending unwanted tingles down to my toes and other more delicate places. He licked me again, slow and leisurely this time, as if savoring the taste of my skin.

My eyes rolled and I sucked in a breath, curling my hands into fists as the shockwave of sensation coursed through me. Gooseflesh peppered my skin, tingles raced across my neck and under my jaw before spreading across my chest to tighten my nipples into aching nubs. He licked again and I bit the insides of my cheeks at the wetness that bloomed between my thighs.

“I can smell your arousal, little one.” His breath kissed my ear.

I breathed through my nose. “Sorry, I was thinking about something else.”

He let out a bark and then a wheezing sound followed.

Wait, was he laughing?

The amber-eyed beast’s head whipped up in what I could only translate as surprise.

The laughter cut off abruptly. “Tomorrow. Midnight. Shingle Beach. You’ll assist Jax with the lurchers.” The alpha’s tone was curt and dismissive.

I so wanted to ask what a lurcher was, but I could sense I’d outstayed my welcome. He’d asked me to leave for the second time.

I needed to obey.

“Thank you.” I tucked in my chin and stepped back, one step at a time, until I felt the pressure of their presence retreat. I turned and walked away, very fast, because there was no doubt in my mind that if I ran, they’d chase.

15

“All good?” Jax asked.

I stared up at him from my position bent over, hands braced on my thighs. “What are you?” The words came out in a rush. “What the fuck are you?”

My chest ached with the residue of terror. I was under no illusions. I’d been a hairbreadth away from death, and I wasn’t entirely sure that pointing out my half-human status was what changed the alpha’s mind.

Jax watched me with a detached expression, and for a moment it felt as if I was being examined by an alien presence. One that was trying to decide how best to interact with the frazzled human. My scalp pricked with unease. He was one of them. He was a beast too, but then he grinned, and it animated his features, dispelling the shadows.

“Not what you expected, huh?” he said.

I glanced back at the forest and shuddered. “No…Jax, what kind of shifters are you?”

He smirked and walked off toward the house. “You don’t need to understand what we are or what we do.”

“I need to know what I’m dealing with.”

“You won’t be dealing with anything. And I’m sure you saw what we are.” He flicked a glance my way. “That will have to be enough.”

They were beasts. Monstrous, prehistoric-looking beasts. “I’ve never seen anything like you.”

“And you won’t.” He sounded weary. “We’re the only ones of our kind. We were...are the Faoladh.”

Faoladh…

I’d never heard the word before, but I filed it away in my memory to tell Tate later.

I’d seen seven or eight of them in the forest, nine if you counted Bryce the alpha. “How many of you are there?”

He lifted his chin toward the house. “Enough to occupy the estate, although most of us prefer to live in the forest.”

From this vantage point I could see that the house had huge wings jutting off from it. The house was enormous, and who knew how many acres of land the forest occupied.

“There are enough of us to do the job handed down to us,” Jax continued.

Protecting the artifact? Damn, I desperately wanted to ask. “And what is that job?”

“So many questions.” He sounded amused.

“I have an inquisitive mind.”

“You’re alive, so I assume Bryce gave you permission to stay?” He picked up his pace toward the house, as if he wanted to get away from me and my questions.

He was deflecting and my gut told me I wasn’t going to get much more out of him.

I jogged to catch up to his long strides. “He said I could help you with the lurchers.”

Jax arched a brow. “He did, did he? Interesting.”

“Can I at least know what a lurcher is?”

He flashed an amused smile. “Best I show you tomorrow.”

The light from the house spilled onto us and a female figure came into view, silhouetted against the porch lights, petite and curvy with long wavy hair. Jax’s step faltered but then he continued, his stride suddenly looser even though my senses picked up a strange tension.

The woman on the porch stepped forward, placing her hands on the railing. She was beautiful, with a heart-shaped face, pouty mouth, and huge green eyes that seemed to shimmer in the moonlight, but it was her body that drew my attention because you could see right through her gauzy robe. Every little detail. I was no prude, but my cheeks heated regardless.

“Hello, Jax.” Her voice was sweet and innocent, totally at odds with her sultry looks and curvy body. “It’s been a while.”

A sweet scent tickled my nostrils. Was it coming from her?

“Selene,” Jax said coolly. “You look … good.”

You look naked would have been more apt.

“So do you.” Selene smiled, but her eyes were pools of sadness. “We’ve all missed you.”

Jax shrugged. “I’ve been busy.”

The corners of her mouth dimpled as she pressed her lips together as if holding back words. She transferred her attention to me, emerald gaze sweeping over me, head to toe and back again.

“Are you going to introduce me to your friend?” she asked Jax.

Jax smirked, but it was a cold, cruel action. “When do I ever introduce you to my lovers, Selene?”

She flinched and a wounded look crossed her face, but then a low howl drifted up in the balmy air and her gaze snapped over our heads.

Jax’s shoulders sagged slightly as if in defeat. The next thing I knew he had his arm around my waist and I was pressed to his side. “You best go,” he drawled. “Your mate is calling.”

He steered me away.

I wasn’t sure what the hell was going on with these two, but it was obvious there was history between them, which was why I waited until we were out of sight to pull away from Jax.

“I don’t like being used, Jax.”

“Who does?” Jax asked.

“Who was that?”

“No one.”

Bullshit. “Uh-huh, so why insinuate we’re lovers.”

He smiled, flashing me unexpected dimples. “Wishful thinking?”

Oh, God, he was incorrigible, flirty and cocky and nothing like the beasts I’d met in the forest, at least not on the surface, but I’d caught a glimpse of the cold, detached creature living under his skin, which made me wonder who the real Jax was.

He climbed onto the bike and handed me the helmet. “It’s almost ten. Let’s get you home to your real lover.”

I opened my mouth to tell him Tate and I weren’t lovers, then snapped it closed again. There was no reason to ruin our cover story.

TATE

My instincts were right. This room behind the door I’m drawn to is a fully stocked library and study combined.

Some are popular titles, fiction to while away an afternoon, but there are also reference books and a large cabinet filled with leather-bound texts written in Latin and other ancient languages. Some I recognize, others not so much, but I’m confident I can decipher them. Languages come naturally to me. A skill that’s grown over time.

This will be my space. The dark wooden paneling, the chesterfield, and the armchair by the hearth are perfect for reading. There’s a desk beneath a bay window overlooking the drive that will provide a good spot to study and transcribe the more obscure texts.

This room, like the others, is dust-free and clean, which confirms my suspicions that brownies aren’t stopped by locked doors.

“You can show yourself if you want.” I scan the room for movement, some sign that I’m not alone. Silence greets me. “I get it. I’m not much of a people person either.”

I head back out of the library and down to the basement. It’s lit up now with weak, anemic light spilling across the dingy, musty space. I bypass the antique furniture and the chests filled with vintage clothes and head straight for the prize—a wooden case crammed with leather-bound books of all shapes and sizes.

Excitement stirs in my chest. These are ancient books filled with yellowed, brittle paper that I’ll need to be careful with. I can’t wait to discover the secrets within. Who owned these treasures and why were they left here to rot?

The box is bulky, heavy too, but I carry it with ease, fueled by eagerness.

Once back in the library, I settle at the desk and angle the lamp for the perfect light. The box calls to me and I reach in, aiming for a thick tome, but at the last minute I’m drawn to a slender book with a soft leather cover secured with a braided leather tie.

This happens sometimes. This inexplicable pull to objects. They usually turn out to be important in some way and I’ve never truly questioned the ability. It’s a sixth sense that’s come in useful.

My gut tells me this book is important somehow, but the excitement in my stomach morphs to icy dread, warning me to put it back. Yes, I should put it back.

Instead, I find myself carefully unraveling the tie and gently opening the book. Yellowing pages and spidery inked words greet me. The language is an unfamiliar one, but the more I stare at it, the more sense it makes. My mind itches and my mouth forms the words, and as the sounds hit my ears, the words make sense.

“The Coming of the Faoladh.”

QUINN

Jax dumped me on the drive and roared off. No mention of our appointment tomorrow night. I guess it was up to me to find this Shingle Beach and be there at midnight.

Lurchers.

What the hell was a lurcher?

The house was quiet and dark when I entered, shadows hovering spookily in corners. Luckily, I didn’t scare easy. No, it took an apex predator literally breathing down my neck to make me contemplate shitting my pants.

“Tate? Where are you?” I checked the kitchen, the lounge, and then headed up the stairs.

Okay, maybe I was a little put out he hadn’t been waiting by the door for me, wringing his hands with worry.

“Tate?” I popped my head into his room to find it empty, then made my way back to the stairs and along the opposite landing toward a few locked doors. Maybe he’d managed to get into the rooms?

“Tate?”

Light spilled across the hallway up ahead. One of the locked rooms had been breached.

“Hey.” I pushed open the door to find my friend bent over a book, one hand shoved in his hair. In fact, it looked like he’d been raking his fingers through his locks.

I closed the door and parked my butt on the armchair by the hearth. It would look awesome in winter with a roaring fire housed in the grate. I could sit right here, hot chocolate in hand and fuzzy socks propped up on the coffee table while Tate worked, and why was I thinking about this stuff? We’d be gone by winter. The quest would be over.

It had to be.

Forget the fact that I was up against an unknown kind of shifter that also happened to be an apex predator and had no clue where this artifact was hidden.

Sometimes my optimism hurt my brain.

Tate exhaled and sat back in his seat. He blinked several times, surfacing from his study haze.

His gaze sharpened. “Quinn? You’re back.” He raked me over, searching for injury.

“I’m fine. Although it was touch-and-go there for a moment.”

He was instantly alert and present. “What happened?”

“I met the pack…although to be honest I have no fucking clue what I saw.” I filled him in on the events. “And then Jax said they were Fulodh or something, but I have no clue what that is. We might have some research to do.”

“Faoladh?” He glanced at his book and then back at me. “I think I just did our research.”

I sat up straighter. “What?”

“I found this book and it’s about these Faoladh, well, bits and pieces anyway. Some of it is completely undecipherable, the writing is just…frenzied. I can’t make out the words, and some of it I just can’t seem to translate, but I picked up the gist.”

That was one long sentence, but it was typical for Tate when he was excited about a find or some new piece of information, technique, or fact. Still, what were the odds of him finding this book at the same time as I met the creatures mentioned?

“You just happened to come across this book?”

He blinked and looked away. “I have my skills just like you have yours.”

I wanted to push but I needed to know what was in the book more. “Tell me what it says.”

“These Faoladh are ancient creatures, beasts that predate man, and if I’m reading this right, they’re not even from this world.”

Aliens? “What?”

“Quinn…They’re not shifters, not in the way we understand it. Lycans and other minor shifters are human in their primary form, able to access a beast form, to run as a beast, to think and feel as a beast, but they still possess the basic moral compass of humanity. But these Faoladh are beasts in their primary form.” He tapped the book. “It says they were cursed to wear human skin, to walk among those they protect.” He fixed his gaze on me. “But Quinn, don’t be fooled, they have no humanity. We need to be extremely cautious when interacting with them. What you see when they’re in human form is a façade, a shroud to hide the beast.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. My terror made sense now. The fact that they lived in the forest made sense, but the woman I’d seen at their mansion didn’t. Jax had said her mate was calling her.

“Tate, is there anything about female Faoladh?”

“There are no females.”

“No females?”

“Faoladh are males.”

“But I saw a woman there.”

“Human?”

“No, I…I don’t know.” I recalled the sweet scent, the same one I’d been catching around town. “I don’t think she was human, but I have no idea what she was.”

Tate sucked on his bottom lip, drawing my attention to his mouth. “I’ll do more reading. See if I can decipher more.” He returned his attention to the book.

He’d be at this all night now.

I stood and walked to the door.

“Quinn?”

“Hmmm?”

“I left you some pasta in the fridge.”

I blew him a kiss. “I love you.”

“Hmmm.” He already had his nose back in the book.

I’d tell him about the lurchers in the morning.

It was only as I was crawling into bed an hour later that it hit me. I’d completely forgotten to ask Jax about the Calling.

16

“Whose idea was it to clear out the garden again?” I straightened from pulling weeds and wiped my arm across my sweaty brow. “I think I’m melting.”

Tate sat back on his haunches and surveyed our handiwork. To be fair, we’d cleared a good section of the lawn by the patio, giving us a glimpse of what this outside space could look like.

I plucked at the collar of my vest, pulling the fabric away from my chest. A shadow fell over me as Tate hauled himself off the ground. I looked up as he reached over his shoulder and tugged his tee over his head, stripping to the waist and then using his shirt to wipe the sweat off his face.

My gaze dropped, skimming across his broad chest, taut pecs, and then further down to his defined abs and the slight V peeking out of his low-slung joggers. I averted my gaze, mouth suddenly dry. What the hell? I’d seen Tate without his shirt on before.

This was Tate, but my pulse was pounding way too hard.

“You want some?” Tate asked, his voice low and gravelly.

My stomach flipped and my gaze shot up to meet his, then down to the bottle of water he was holding out to me.

A giggle bubbled up my throat, and I swallowed it and grinned up at him. “Sure.”

I glugged. God I was such an idiot.

“Hello?” A female voice drifted out from the house.

We both turned to look back at the patio as a tall, willowy woman stepped out. Her hair fell to her waist in an inky sheet and her eyes were so blue they looked like sapphires against her creamy complexion. My gaze flicked to Tate to find him staring, mouth slightly parted.

My stomach dropped and then annoyance flared in my chest. “Excuse me?” I stood, hands on hips. “We do have a doorbell, you know?”

She winced apologetically. “I rang and knocked, but no one answered, and the door was unlocked…”

“So you thought you’d just walk in?” I couldn’t keep the snap out of my voice. I mean, who did she think she was, waltzing into my house?

“Quinn…” Tate threw a disapproving frown my way before turning his attention back to the woman. “How can we help you?”

She smiled at him, showcasing even white teeth, and I swear Tate’s breath hitched.

“It’s how I can help you, actually. Merry asked me to drop off some items that were missing from your grocery order.”

Merry must be the woman who owned the grocery store.

She jerked a thumb back at the house. “I left the bags on your kitchen counter.”

I pulled off my gloves. “Thanks for that. I’ll see you out.” I walked toward her, and she reluctantly tore her gaze from Tate, smile dropping.

“Oh. Sure,” she said.

“I was about to make lunch,” Tate said suddenly.

I glanced back at him with a frown of my own, but he ignored me, his attention on the woman.

“You’re welcome to join us,” he added.

And there was that hundred-watt smile again. “I’d love to.”

A blessed cool breeze blew my hair back off my face and her scent hit me, smoky like a woodfire. I’d recognize that smell anywhere.

Demon blood.

I stepped between her and Tate. “Care to introduce yourself properly?”

She blinked at me in confusion. “Sorry?”

“I can smell you. Demon blood.”

She made an “o” with her mouth and then chuckled. “Oh, well. I wasn’t aware we had to state our breed. I mean, Hawthorne doesn’t work that way.” She leaned in, a conspiratorial twinkle in her eye. “Nobody cares.”

“I care.”

“You have a problem with demons?”

“Not all demons. Just ones I don’t know.”

“In that case,” Tate said as he approached. “Maybe we should get to know one another.”

Her eyes were on him again now, pupils dilating.

I didn’t like this. I didn’t like this one bit.

“I DON’T LIKE THIS.”

I watched from the bedroom doorway as Tate rummaged in his dresser for a fresh shirt. Demon woman was in the kitchen sipping lemonade. Willow was her name. Willow like the tree. Like her willowy frame.

“Do you think she’s dangerous?” Tate’s voice was muffled as he tugged on a pale blue T-shirt, the one that sat so well against his tanned skin.

I wanted to say yes, yes, of course she was, but that would be a lie. “I don’t know.”

“Quinn…”

Urgh. “I don’t like her.”

“You don’t know her.”

“I have instincts.”

He fixed his knowing brown eyes on me. “What is this about, Quinn. Really?”

My throat pinched and my chest burned. I gave him my sad face. “I think I have heartburn.”

He shook his head and sighed. “Do you want me not to speak with her? Does it bother you when I do?”

Oh, God, it totally did. “No. Fuck no. I just…I think we need to be careful, that’s all.”

He bridged the distance between us and cupped my shoulders. “I came here for you, Quinn. You’re my priority. If there’s a reason you don’t want me spending time with Willow, then I won’t.”

Some reason? There was no valid reason. Nothing that didn’t sound completely tangled and selfish. What was I supposed to say? Hey, you’re my best friend and you need to spend time only with me and be there only for me? This was all because he didn’t date often. I was used to him being available, but who was I kidding? I’d known the day would come when Tate would look at a woman and be like, whoa, you’re hot and I totally want to bang you.

I felt sick.

“Quinn?” Tate’s gaze skipped across my face. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Just tired and stressed about tonight and the whole beast pack thing.” I tipped my chin up and smiled at him, a proper, warm, look-at-my-teeth smile. “You know what, I’m gonna head into town and pick up some bits. I need bubble bath and… lady things.”

I didn’t really, but I needed to get away. I couldn’t watch them “getting to know each other.”

“Quinn—”

I slipped from his grasp. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours.” I headed for the door. “If she tries to feed off your soul, punch her in the face.”

WHAT IF TATE and Willow started dating? No need to worry; I mean, even if they did, we were only here until I got my hands on the relic. Tate was too smart to start something he couldn’t finish. Now the way he’d looked at her…The stunned, bedazzled expression on his face…

I tucked a sweaty tendril of hair behind my ear. She was stunning, though. I mean, if I was being completely impartial about it.

I parked the car opposite the grocery store and sat there, windows down, suddenly at a loss.

I had two hours to kill; what the heck would I do for that time? I scanned the parade of stores and spotted what looked like a clothing store. Sod it. I could do with some new clothes.

Two minutes later I was walking into the air-conditioned building dotted with colorful racks and carousels of clothes, but I’d barely taken two steps when a woman came rushing over. Her name tag identified her as Mary the shop assistant.

“Oh, I’m sorry, so sorry. We’re closed.” She made shooing motions with her hands.

Whoa. “What?”

She glanced over her shoulder. “You need to go.”

A feminine laugh drifted our way and two women appeared with several items of clothing slung over their arms. My gaze zeroed in on the petite, curvy one.

Selene.

Her green eyes widened in recognition. “You’re Jax’s…friend.”

The shop assistant looked thrown. “I’m so sorry,” she said to Selene. “I forgot to lock the doors.”

“You had one job.” The deep male voice was like icy fingers gripping my nape.

A muscular, stocky man appeared from a back room. My brain thought man but my primitive instinct screamed beast. He glared at me from amber eyes set in a square face attached to a thick neck.

“You don’t belong here.” His lip curled in derision and the fist at my nape tightened.

He wasn’t talking about the store. He meant in general.

He was one of them, the amber-eyed one from the forest. A Faoladh.

“Honey,” Selene said. “This is Jax’s friend.”

“I know who she is.” His chest rattled and ice trickled through my veins.

I needed to get out of here.

I held up my hands. “Sorry to intrude. I’ll come back another time.”

Selene looked like she was about to say something, but the shop assistant practically shoved me out the door and back onto the street.

I stood under the hammering sun for a long beat, heart pounding as if I’d just run a sprint, before turning on my heel and striding away as fast as possible.

They’d shut down the store for the Faoladh and their mates.

The shop assistant had been scared.

So much for everything being roses and chocolates like Merry had intimated, which reminded me, I needed to find out about this Calling thing.

I crossed the street and made a beeline for the grocery store. A note was taped to it saying be back at one-thirty. I glanced at my watch. Ten minutes to kill. Sod it. I’d take a walk.

I headed down the street, past the café on the opposite side of the row and toward what looked like the center of the town square. The road split off into two here, running around a huge park area complete with benches and a bell tower that reached for the sky. The view from the top had to be something, right?

I crossed the street and cut across the park, passing humans eating lunch and throwing bread to the birds and heading straight toward the tower entrance. It was snug inside, probably wide enough to have two people my size climb side by side. I took the steps two at a time, round and round, peeking out each glassless window as I passed until I exited at the top of the tower. A cool breeze ruffled my hair and a feeling of nostalgia washed over me, and for a moment I expected to find Nyx and Orina waiting for me. But it was just me now. The view from up here was epic, but it was the monument planted under the huge brass bell that drew my attention.

It was a thick wooden post with names etched into its surface. Not neatly or uniformly but crudely and by many different hands. The whole thing had been varnished and treated to preserve the etchings.

Who were these people? Why were their names on this plinth?

“Beat ya!”

I spun to find a couple of kids behind me. They stopped short at the sight of me, looking thrown.

My gaze dropped to the backpacks dangling from their hands.

They’d come up here for lunch. Maybe this was their spot like the clock tower had been Nyx’s, Orina’s, and mine.

I held up my hands and smiled. “I’m going. It’s all yours.” I didn’t wait for a response but cut past them and headed down the stairs.

The grocery store should be open by now.

THE BELL above the door tinkled as I entered and Merry looked up from behind the counter with a smile. She closed the magazine she was reading as I approached.

“Well, hello there. I wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon. I sent Willow with the rest of your supplies. Did she find you all right?”

“Yes, she did actually.”

The sweet smell I’d been noticing all around town tickled my nostrils just before two women stepped out of the aisle to my left. One had green hair that tumbled in ringlets down to her shoulders, the other had poker-straight auburn locks that fell all the way to her waist. They were both almost too beautiful, one pale-skinned with dark nutmeg eyes and the other darker-skinned with pale green eyes.

The green-eyed one carried a basket loaded with fresh vegetables.

I stepped back. “You can go first.”

She smiled at me. “Why thank you.” Her voice was a tinkling sweet melody, and was that glitter on her cheeks?

Merry rang up her items and bagged them.

The woman with the glittery cheeks paid and then both swept out of the shop, taking the sweet aroma with them.

Merry turned her attention back to me. “So, what can I do for you?”

“What do you know about the Calling?”

She snapped a blink and then her expression closed off. “The Calling is nothing to do with humans.”

“Does that mean you don’t know anything?”

She fiddled with the edge of the magazine. “Look, Quinn, some of us are pretty superstitious when it comes to certain things. The Calling is one of them. It’s not a human affair. Not our business to pry and ask questions. It happens, and there are stories. We pass them on and we move on.”

I got it. Humans who interfered in supernatural affairs usually got burned. In some cases, literally. “I need to know what it is, Merry. If you can’t tell me, then at least point me to someone who can.”

“You’re best-off speaking to one of the pureblood fae.”

“Fae? You mean in the Evergreen?”

She smiled. “No, love, here in Hawthorne. We have several resident purebloods and many more arrived this past week.” She looked out the window. I followed her gaze to find the two women who’d just been in here sitting at a table outside the café across the street.

“Wait. Those two are fae?”

She nodded. “Pointed ears and everything. The fae who live here have proven to be safe. No mischief and magic from them, no enchanting or stealing of our babies. They’ve assimilated into our society, but the ones who have come into town the past week are a different breed. They follow the wild ways and they’re not to be trifled with. The Calling will be over soon, and they’ll be gone.”

The smell…the sweet, cloying scent. It had been them. I’d never smelled a pureblood fae before, but now that I knew what one smelled like it was filed away in my sensory memory. It explained why the air in this town was so sugary. I’d come at a time when the town would be crawling with fae.

I needed to speak to them. “Thanks, Merry.”

I headed for the door.

“Quinn…”

I glanced back, hand on the door. “Yeah?”

She pressed her lips together. “I know you’re not fully human, but…Be careful.”

I ORDERED a lemonade and then approached the two fae at their table. They looked up with delicate frowns.

“Hi, ladies. I was wondering if I could have a chat with you?”

I caught movement at the corner of my eye, but when I turned my head nothing was there. Weird. I focused on the fae again to find them watching me with open curiosity.

The auburn-haired one narrowed her eyes. “Humans tend to steer clear of our kind.” She tucked her hair behind one tapered ear to show me what she was and waited for my reaction.

I couldn’t help it. I faux gasped and pressed my free hand to my chest, then grinned. “No, I know what you are, and I’m not pure human. I’m part Lycan.”

Glitter Cheeks sniffed the air. “You don’t smell Lycan.”

“I know, but I am, and I can smell you. You smell sweet.”

She flipped her hair. “Yes, I’ve often heard that we have a honey scent to other supernaturals.”

“What did you want to talk to us about?” Auburn asked, getting back to the point. Her eyes widened as if she’d suddenly had a revelation. “Are you working for the pack?”

I kind of was, but I figured telling them that wasn’t going to get me the answers I needed. “No. I inherited a house in town and I’m trying to learn a little about this place. In particular the Calling?”

A soft snuffling sound drew my attention to the ground, and I bit back a yelp at the sight of the creature peering out from under the table. Two feet high, hairy, and plump, it looked up at me with cat-like eyes and a wide mouth. And then it vanished.

“What was that?”

They exchanged glances and then Auburn nodded toward the spare seat at the table. “Sit.”

I pulled out a chair and peered under the table, but the creature was gone.

“He won’t hurt you,” Glitter said. “You can sit.”

So he was still there? Another fae, no doubt. I settled opposite them and they both leaned forward.

“No one knows what the Calling is for certain,” Glitter said. “It happens every fifty years and it’s been happening for a long time, pre-Accords, pre-many things. Fae are drawn to this town, and then…” She broke off and shook her head.

Damn it. “Then what?”

“They’re never seen again,” Auburn continued. “They never come home.”

“And you have no idea what happens to the fae who come here?”

“No. But we know that the Hawthorne Pack is somehow involved.”

“So, you were drawn here, and you came, even though you have no clue what would happen, and you might never see your loved ones again?”

“Yes.”

I sat back and shook my head. “I don’t get it.”

“You wouldn’t understand,” Glitter said. “Once you’re marked, there is no running away. The elders of Evergreen will not shield a marked one. As soon as we’re branded, we’re expelled from Evergreen. Those who resist the call are driven insane.”

Glitter turned her hand palm upward to reveal what looked like a green tattoo. Some kind of runic symbol.

The auburn-haired one pulled up the arm of her shirt to show me her matching mark, this one inked in red.

“We came because we have no choice,” Glitter continued. “We hoped the residents would have some stories that might give us an idea of what to expect, but all we’ve learned is what we already know. The Calling will begin in a few days and I guess we’ll finally have answers.”

They smiled nervously at one another.

I couldn’t imagine what they were going through, forced to be here, waiting to experience an event they knew nothing about. “At least you have each other. I suppose if I were going to be doing this with anyone, I’d want to be doing it with my friend too.”

Glitter giggled. “Oh, we’re hardly friends. We barely know each other. Ivy came from North Evergreen and I live in the south. Our clans aren’t allied; too much bad blood.”

“Pixies and nymphs don’t have the best of relationships,” Ivy continued with a wry smile, “but I met Bloom at the boarding house yesterday and we’ve decided to stick together.”

It looked to me that a friendship was forming regardless of their supposed natural animosity to each other. A potential common threat could make allies out of enemies. They were waiting for something…Something they had no clue if they’d survive, and I was no closer to having answers than I was a few minutes ago.

No one knew what happened to the Called, but I’d seen a fae at the pack mansion, a fae who was mated to one of the Hawthorne Pack. Could she be connected to the Calling, or was she just a random fae who’d caught the eye of a beast?

I needed real answers, because my gut told me they would be vital to my mission’s success.

I left the fae to their ice-cream sundaes and headed back to my car. I had a lot to think about, but I also had a date with Jax on Shingle Beach to prepare for.

And what the hell was a lurcher?

17

Shingle Beach was a long strip of pebble-covered sand overlooked by rocky cliffs, two miles west from the clifftop house. Tonight was a full moon, bright as day to my preternatural vision. The air was cool for summer, so I’d opted for my kickass armored jacket with its many pockets for sneaky weapons. It fell snug and easy against my body, molding to me, made for me. Wearing it always felt like stepping into a skin. A skin that could take a life without blinking, that could fight and maim without remorse. I guess I’d come to associate my enforcer persona with this jacket, and I had a feeling I was going to need that guise more than ever around the Hawthorne Pack.

Fear was considered a weakness, equated to cowardice, which wasn’t tolerated.

We left the car on the road and walked up the trail to the top of the cliff overlooking Shingle Beach. There would be a railed-off trail leading down, at least that’s what the map we’d consulted said.

I got to the top first and spotted several figures on the beach below.

“That must be Jax and…others,” Tate said.

I glanced across at him, looking all badass in his dust kicker with his slicked-back hair and chiseled jawline. What would Willow think if she saw him like this?

He turned his head and I looked away quickly, not wanting him to catch me staring.

I mean, that would be weird. “Yeah, I think that must be him.”

Jax had his back to us, and his fair hair was painted silver by the moonlight. There were three other guys with him, people I didn’t recognize. Probably pack members.

I brushed past Tate to get to the pedestrian trail. “Let’s get down there.”

We carefully navigated the narrow track down to the beach.

Jax turned his head to look our way as we approached across the pebbles. From this distance his face was all angles and shadows, and his eyes were pits of darkness. He looked alien and creepy, and it took everything I had to keep walking toward him and maintain my confident step.

He grinned, his usual cocky I-love-myself grin, and the sea air filled my lungs and the unease melted away.

“You made it.” He swept an arm out toward the sea. “Welcome to our monthly chore.”

I opened my mouth to ask what exactly we’d be doing here, but he cut me off.

“Emmit, Anton, Flynn.” He went from left to right down the line of Faoladh. “This is the new town resident you’ve heard about, Quinn, and her human sidekick.”

The three other Faoladh didn’t bother to look my way, keeping their attention trained on the calm summer sea. They were big guys, but I got the impression big was probably standard with the Faoladh.

Emmit had a tank build, with close-cropped dark hair; Anton was dark-skinned, his hair longer and a lighter shade, impossible to tell in the moonlight what exactly; and Flynn had a wiry, athletic build, blond like Jax, but with a buzz cut. They were all dressed in black joggers and long-sleeve tops. Their feet were bare.

On this beach that was a serious ouch, but it didn’t seem to bother them.

“What are we doing here, Jax?” Tate asked.

Jax pulled a blade from the holster at his waist. “You’ll find out soon enough.” He jerked his head toward the ocean. “Watch the waves. Aim for the spot under their arms. That’s where their main artery is. It wounds them enough to force them back into the sea. Move fast, don’t let them get their teeth into you.”

The bite of annoyance pulled my brows down over my eyes. “Dammit, Jax, what are we fighting?”

“Hungry sea monsters, Quinn. Disgusting, dangerous—”

“We have a sighting,” Anton said.

My gaze flew over the dark expanse of water. What sighting? I couldn’t see a damn—

“There!” Tate nudged me and pointed off to the side.

A dark oval bobbed above the water’s surface, and then another appeared beside it followed by several more.

Low, rattling growls skittered across the beach as the Faoladh fell into attack formation.

Several figures rose out of the water, slender, dark, with long ropy hair and webbed hands that ended in tapered talons. They moved fast, gracefully cutting through the water, headed toward us.

“Ten tonight,” Emmit growled. “Easy pickings, no need for help.” He sounded offended and disgusted at the same time.

“Bryce was clear,” Anton grumbled.

Emmit made a noncommittal sound.

“You want to question your alpha?” Jax asked with amusement.

“He’s not insane,” Flynn said softly. “They are.” He jerked his chin toward the water.

The creatures were wading through the shallows now, and their graceful pace altered to a lumbering, lurching gait.

Lurchers.

They hit the beach and Jax twirled his blade. “You ready for some fun?” His tone deepened and his body seemed to expand, neck thickening, arms bulking out. What the—

I blinked and he was him again. A trick of the moonlight, maybe?

The wind changed and the scent of the sea was masked by another smell, acrid and metallic with a sulphuric undertone.

But there was no time to consider it because the lurchers were on us, and the stench was almost overpowering, triggering my gag reflex and making my eyes water. The Faoladh bounded across the beach to meet the threat head-on—bulky, graceful shadows cutting across the moonlit expanse.

Tate and I exchanged glances and then followed. We hit the fray as Jax stabbed one of the lurchers in the chest, then sliced across toward its armpit. Black ooze bubbled up from beneath its dark skin, its black eyes grew wide, and a shriek hit the air, seemingly coming from all around us like a sonic blast.

I tried to focus on its face, but it was a blur—a smudge of dark eyes, wide mouth, and flat nose.

Jax pulled out his blade and the lurcher fell onto the pebbles, flipped onto its front, and began commando-crawling toward the sea.

“I’ll get him.” I made to go after the lurcher, but Jax hauled me back.

“You can’t kill them. Only send them back. Focus on the ones on the beach. Don’t let them get to the trail.”

He shoved me away and turned to address a new target. Three were already down, slithering back to the ocean, and three more were engaged in combat with the other Faoladh. The creatures moved fast when stationary, arms whipping about, talons slicing air, but the Faoladh were faster, almost as if for them, the lurchers were moving in slow motion.

I made to run back into the fray, but movement on the ocean’s surface caught my eye. Lurchers cut to shore further down the beach, the side closest to the trail. Four— no, five. They were almost to shore.

Fuck. The ones we were fighting were decoys. “Jax!”

I didn’t bother to stop to see if he heard me or if he was following before sprinting down the beach toward the fresh influx of lurchers. Five-on-one, odds were shit, but I had to do something to slow them down.

I caught the tail end of a bellow behind me as a gust of wind picked up and blew it away. No time to look back, to check if the others were coming.

Two lurchers hit the beach just as I skidded to a stop between them and the trail. I sliced the air with my blade to ward them back. They lurched away from me and then lumbered forward again. Clumsy and desperate, eyes dark and almost sad.

My attack faltered for a moment, and two made a mad dash past me. I stabbed the nearest one under the ribs. The blade went in easy, too easy, as if the creature was made of sponge, as if there were no vital organs or bones to bypass.

Tate appeared beside me, launching himself at the third lurcher. He wrestled with it, forcing it toward the sea, but the others weren’t interested in combat and were headed for the trail.

Shit.

I broke into a sprint across the pebbles, boots slipping and sliding on the slick stones. Three of them were almost at the track. A burst of speed brought me up behind the straggler and I sank my blade into the back of its neck. Its shriek made my gums ache. I yanked out the knife, but it kept going, headed for the trail that its buddies had already reached.

“Nope.” I grabbed it, spun it to face me, and stabbed it in the chest just like I’d seen Jax do.

It didn’t scream, flinch, or fight back. It simply stared at me with dead eyes and a blank expression.

Unease tightened my scalp.

What was this thing?

Why were we killing them?

What the fuck was I doing?

But then the lurcher’s wide mouth curved up in a smile, revealing bloodless white gums and jagged, uneven yellow teeth. Its dead eyes gleamed with life. Something fluttered deep inside me… A tug of recognition.

“Quinn, watch out!” Tate’s cry was whipped away by a gust of wind.

Hands landed on my shoulders and pulled me back. I twisted and turned to find two lurchers at my back. The lurchers from the trail.

I was surrounded.

TATE

Quinn is frozen, staring wide-eyed and stunned at the lurchers surrounding her. “Move! Dammit!” My thighs ache, legs pumping as I cross an expanse that seems to stretch forever. “Quinn, move!”

The lurchers don’t attack her, and confusion mingles with relief. Why aren’t they attacking her?

The air on either side of me rushes as two figures bound past me. They cover the distance between me and Quinn easily and are with her in seconds.

Jax and Emmit slam into the lurchers, taking them down, and Quinn’s paralysis shatters. She launches into motion, slicing and stabbing.

I can finally breathe.

Blood rushes to my head, pulse pumping with relief. Dammit, I fucking hate this job.

I hate the blood, gore, and the fighting, and I’d be happy to lock myself away in the library forever if it meant I could avoid this, but if Quinn is out here, then so am I. I won’t leave her to do this alone.

I can’t.

I finally reach the group and come to a halt, chest heaving, muscles aching from a sprint that no human body should have had to undertake. Each inhalation cuts at my lungs, snagging there before rushing out in relief as if eager to escape my exhausted body.

Quinn doesn’t look at me. She’s staring at the creatures on the ground, and fuck me if they aren’t looking right back at her with their bulbous, glittering dark eyes. Their mouths hang open slackly and strange sounds bubble up from their rubbery lips. No, not sounds, but words. A strange guttural language that my brain immediately pounces on and begins to unravel, and one word fills my mind, one word that they say over and over while looking up at Quinn.

Home.

18

“You could have been killed,” Emmit growled. “Stupid hybrid with no sense.”

His tone nudged the beast inside me. “I had it under control.”

“Like hell you did. Why are you here if you can’t fight?” he demanded.

That rankled. I fought just fine. I fought fucking awesomely, except tonight I fucked up, and that hurt because I never fucked up. I couldn’t afford to.

“Stupid, worthless hybrid,” Emmit snarled.

“Enough!” Jax snapped. “Track the lurchers back to the water, then scan the beach and make sure it’s clear. I’ve got this.”

Emmit backed up, lip curling, dark hooded eyes saturated with disgust. It was obvious he had much more to say, and honestly, if I’d been in his position I’d probably be just as pissed.

“Go,” Jax ordered him.

With a final rattling growl, Emmit spun on his heel and jogged off toward Anton and Flynn.

The lurchers that had attacked me were a few meters away, commando-crawling toward the sea.

Jax fixed his attention on me, his lapis-blue eyes all pupil as they raked me over. “You could have been killed.”

I wanted to argue, but there were no words to defend myself. I’d frozen, been mesmerized, stunned. I didn’t even know what the fuck had happened.

“They didn’t attack her,” Tate said softly.

“Because we got there in time,” Jax said.

“No.” Tate studied me as if I were some ancient text he found fascinating. “They didn’t attack. They had plenty of time and they just stood there. Staring at her.”

Jax made a sound of exasperation. “You have no idea what you’re talking about or what we’re dealing with. Lurchers are flesh-hungry beasts that crawl onto land once a month, fueled by the energy of a full moon to feast on human flesh. We’ve been beating them back for decades. Nothing stands between them and their meal. If they paused with Quinn, it was probably because they were confused by her scent, trying to determine if she was food or foe.”

I nodded. “That makes sense.”

Tate looked like he was about to say something, but then he pressed his lips together and nodded too.

Jax exhaled through his nose. “I need a fucking drink.”

Something buzzed loudly. He pulled a mobile phone from his pocket, glancing at the caller ID and then back up.

“Go home. If we need you, we’ll be in touch.”

The way he said it didn’t inspire hope. He turned and jogged toward the others, raising the phone to his ear as he went.

I’d come here intending to stun them with my kickassery, but instead I’d made a tit of myself and inspired zero confidence. I was going to have to work harder to get into their circle, get close to them and find the artifact. I’d need to do something amazing to stun them and make them want me as part of their group.

My stomach let out a loud grumble.

I tucked my blade into its holster. “Let’s go home. I’m starving.”

Tate was ominously silent for a long beat, prompting me to look up at his aquiline profile. He was looking down the beach at the lurchers who were now almost at the water line.

“Tate? You okay?”

He blinked and fixed his warm brown eyes on me. “I’m fine, but Quinn, we need to talk.”

“YOU MUST HAVE MISINTERPRETED THEM.” I bit into my burger and chewed.

Tate frowned. “Possibly, but not likely.”

“Well then, it makes no sense.”

“I agree.”

We’d stopped off at a twenty-four-hour fast-food place on the way home and my stomach was happy. I had enough shit to worry about without letting something Tate may or may not have heard get to me.

But he was looking at me with his puzzle-solving expression.

“Tate, come on, you’re making me feel squirrelly.”

He dropped his gaze to his food. “I must have misheard.”

Now he was just trying to make me feel better, but I appreciated it, and I was going to go with it.

I polished off the burger and sat back on my stool. The high back bit into my shoulders but the pressure had a grounding effect.

“We need to come up with a new plan to ingratiate me to the pack. Something that will show them how awesome I am. I need to be able to get back onto their land and into that house.”

“And what if the artifact isn’t in the house?” Tate pointed out. “What if it’s in the forest?”

“Yeah…I’ll cross that bridge if I come to it.”

He arched a brow. “Quinn, have you considered the possibility that this task may not be possible?”

My stomach felt empty even though I’d just filled it with food. “That isn’t an option, Tate.”

He leaned forward, bracing his forearms on the table either side of his plate and fixing his intense gaze on me. “Why not?”

“Because…because I need this, okay. I need them to accept that I can do this, that I’m worth it, that—”

My throat closed up and my eyes heated. Fuck no.

“You don’t need to prove yourself to anyone, Quinn. You’re worth more than all the Lycans in Swiftwood Pack. You’re worth more than what Ward did to you.”

My chest ached and my vision blurred.

Ward, fucking Ward. The thorn I thought I’d pulled out of my heart. The pain I thought I’d blocked. He was still there like a shadow on my soul. I wanted to hate him but couldn’t. I wanted to feel nothing, but I couldn’t. I needed this task. I needed the challenge, the goal, the focus, and the fucking reward.

I wanted it.

I sucked in a breath and raised my dry eyes to meet Tate’s. “I love you, Tate, I really do. I love that you came with me; it just reinforces what I know, that you’re my best friend and you care about me. But I can’t walk away from this. Not until I’m a hundred percent certain I’ve given it my all. But you don’t have to stay. You can leave. It won’t affect our friendship.”

He flinched slightly and made to sit back but at the last moment changed his mind and reached for my hands instead. His huge mitts dwarfed my petite ones.

“Let’s get one thing straight here, Quinn. I’m not going anywhere. You’re my priority.” He squeezed my hands gently to reassure me.

An emotion I couldn’t quite define rushed through me, making my throat pulse. “You can’t be with me forever, Tate.” Why was I saying this? Shut up, Stupid. “You’re gonna fall in love and that person will be your priority. Things will change.” I chuckled but it sounded fake, even to my ears. “I’ve monopolized you enough.”

From the time I was five and he was nine, I’d latched on and never let go, and he’d let me. He’d taken me under his wing, been my confidant, my buddy, my protector, my partner, my best friend, and my soulmate.

Wow, he was a lot of things. Too many things.

“Quinn—"

“No, honestly, it’s okay. You put up with Ward and me and it’s my turn now.” The thought of sharing him made me feel sick, but it would happen. It had to happen, and when it did, I’d be happy for him. “I mean as long as it’s not with that demon chick Willow.”

His eyes flinched.

“No…Please tell me you don’t have a date with her…”

“Tomorrow. Breakfast.”

I stuck out my tongue in a yuck gesture. “Fine, just be careful. These demons can be sneaky when sucking out your soul, you know.”

“I think I’ll know if my soul is being sucked.”

“Uh-huh, if she sucks it out of your mouth maybe, but there are other places to suck a soul out of, you know, places you might be too distracted by to care.” I arched an insinuating brow.

He stared at me blankly for a moment, and then comprehension bloomed across his face and he blinked sharply.

“Are you serious? I’ve never read of such a thing.”

“Oh, totally. Nyx told me a while back. It’s a thing some demons do, so, you know, be careful with that.”

I pushed back my stool and stretched. “Anyway, sweet dreams.” I left him to his contemplation, a wicked grin tugging at my lips.

Suck a soul through a cock. Ha, I was so going to hell.

19

JAX

There’s a dead human on the road. His car stands empty, doors wide open, bonnet lodged in the shrubbery that borders the highway. The side of the vehicle is crumpled, crushed in as if an immense weight slammed into it. His eyes are still open, looking up at the sky as if contemplating his fate.

My gaze drops to the open maw that is his abdomen. Hollow because the organs have been consumed. The skin is black and charred in places, almost as if he was burned. I’m unable to look away, the primitive predator inside me rearing up to examine the kill with curious intensity. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a human kill of this ferocity. A scent lingers in the air, a charge that my otherworld senses identify as a threat.

Predator.

Death.

Faoladh don’t feel fear in the conventional sense, but I know what fear is. I’ve seen it on the faces of others, examined it, played with it, elicited it, but never experienced it as my own, but as I look down on the dead human a prickle rushes over my skin. Not fear but unease. I ache to tear out of my human skin and be free, but I hold still, breathe through my mouth to avoid the aroma of fresh blood, and swallow the saliva that pools in my mouth.

Not my kill.

Emmit is in true form, circling the body, sniffing a trail that leads to town. He raises his head, snout wrinkling as his true mouth forms sounds no human will comprehend and my mind translates into English.

“There are three of them.”

“Three what?”

Lox cuts over me. “The barrier will need time to heal,” he says from his position at the town lines.

He’s still in human form, bulky and uncomfortable. I can sense he wants to get back home to the forest and tear free of this skin. Of all of us, he hates it the most. No, that’s a lie. Bryce hates it the most, which is why I’m shocked to see him here in his human skin.

He looks at ease, even though he rarely shifts out of true form. To someone giving him a fleeting glance, he’d seem like he belongs, but a closer look and they’d see the inhuman thing that lives behind his eyes. The killer that’s sizing up its quarry, wondering how long to play with it before ending its misery.

He’s leaning up against his monolithic bike, arms crossed, an expression like an impending storm on his face.

Bryce being here is a bad sign.

I need to know how bad. “What are we dealing with?”

“Smells Lycan,” Emmit snarls. “But not Lycan. Huge pawprint by edge of road. Marked kill with urine. Burn marks but not fire. Smell all over car. Smell everywhere.”

“Urine everywhere.” Lox sounds disgusted.

This is our territory, our hunting ground, even though it’s been a long time since we hunted properly, but still. Another predator has come into our territory and marked it not only with a kill but with its bodily fluids.

I feel Emmit’s eyes on me. “You don’t scent them, do you?”

“Too much time in human skin.” Lox sounds derisive, and my hackles rise.

“Not by choice.” I keep my voice light, uncaring, even though my insides clench at the observation.

“Enough.” Bryce’s command comes in our true tongue and acts as a whiplash, drawing our attention to him. “How can this happen?” He looks to Lox. “The barrier is impervious to anything Lycan and yet the hybrid was able to get through and now this, whatever it may be.”

“She disrupted the barrier somehow.” Lox answers Bryce in English. “She is anomaly. The barrier was confused. She broke it. Tore a hole. Hole needs time to heal.”

Bryce’s chest rattles and growls as he pushes off the bike and straightens to his full six-foot-six height. In true form he’s the largest of us, our true alpha. One of the first. He rarely leaves the forest, preferring the canopy of the trees and the fragrant earth to gravel roads and brick houses. But he’s here now, and there’s a simmering rage inside him that desperately needs release.

“The human death is the hybrid’s fault.” Bryce’s tone is lethally soft. “She did this. She tore the barrier and brought them here.”

He blames Quinn, the less-than-half Lycan.

“Bryce, I doubt this was deliberate.” I take a step toward him because I sense the blaze coming. Bryce despises duplicity. Lies. Secrets. He’s never wrong and prides himself on that, so this is bad, because he let her in. Gave her a chance to work for us.

It’s not Quinn he truly blames but himself for not having killed her in the forest, and now a human is dead, and a price must be paid.

His lavender eyes are dark, his lips thin with displeasure. “She did this.” He climbs onto his bike. “Station a guard at the barrier until it heals. Track the intruders and kill them. I have to pay a visit to our little Lycan.”

Oh, fuck.

He roars off on his bike to see Quinn. He believes she tore this hole deliberately, that she brought the threat with her to our town. If she’s unable to convince him otherwise, he will kill her.

The thought of Bryce hurting the hybrid evokes a strange emotion in my cold, dead heart.

I stride toward my bike.

“Jax, where you go?” Lox demands.

“I’ll know when I get there.”

QUINN

My eyes snapped open. Someone was in the room with me. The Lycan in me was alert, hackles bristling with awareness, but it held me still, because an unidentified danger was close by. A mortal threat that my inner beast recognized as more powerful than us.

My throat grew tight, heart beating so fast I was sure it would slam out of my chest.

What the fuck?

What was this?

Breath coming shallow and fast, I scanned the room best I could without moving my head. My preternatural night vision allowed me to see everything except what lay deep in the shadows at the far side of the chamber by the huge armoire.

That patch of shadow… My scalp tightened and pricked as I focused on it and the room seemed to shrink, closing in on me. I clenched my jaw, struggling to hear above the thrashing of my heartbeat in my ears.

There was something—

A scream lodged in my throat as the inky darkness moved toward me.

A figure.

A man.

A huge man with long silver hair and rage-filled eyes. “You’ve been a very bad little Lycan.”

That voice like lava. Deep, thick, and oh, fucking hell…

“Bryce?” His name was a dry whisper on my lips, and oh, shit, he was crawling onto the bed, moving toward me like a fucking predator. The muscles of his bare arms rippled in an almost sensuous dance, at odds with the rage and hunger that beat off him and against my skin. My bladder was suddenly way too full.

His shadow fell over me like an oppressive blanket as his huge frame hovered over me, hands braced on either side of my shoulders, knees bracketing my thighs.

I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

He inhaled. “Fear.” My body reacted to his voice with a push-pull sensation that left me gasping.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “What do you want?”

“Truth.”

“About what?”

His eyes narrowed, pupils expanding to eat away at the light irises. “Why are you here, little Lycan?”

Oh, fuck. “I inherited this house.”

“More,” he demanded.

The pulse in my throat fluttered like a trapped hummingbird. “There is no more.”

“Liar.” He didn’t raise his voice, didn’t have to; his accusation pierced me like a hot blade. He bared his teeth and leaned in, and my heart stopped for a moment. “Truth.”

My stomach trembled, chest aching because there was no doubt in my mind that if he wasn’t satisfied with what I said next, he’d rip out my throat.

“Truth.” The word was a command that reverberated through me, latching onto something deep inside. “Now.”

The urge to blurt out the full truth was like bile rushing up my throat. No. I couldn’t, I—

“I was running away from pain.” The words spilled out in a rush of relief, as if they’d been waiting desperately to be uttered.

He stilled above me, dark-fringed lavender eyes raking across my face abrasively, as if trying to strip the skin from my bones so he could see into my soul.

“Tell me.” The deep rumble of his voice made my stomach flip and tighten.

I didn’t want to do this. I didn’t want to speak about this with him, with anyone, but the ache in my chest became a tug, dislodging more words, sending them bubbling up and spilling out regardless.

“My mate rejected me, and it hurt. It hurt bad.”

Ward’s face at the assembly filled my mind, the cool, detached way he’d looked at me from the stage, the pain when he’d severed our bond, leaving me empty and broken. I didn’t want to talk about this.

Calloused fingers gripped my jaw and squeezed before releasing me. “More.”

My vision blurred with hot tears and the words fuck you filled my mind, but when I opened my mouth those weren’t the words that came out.

“I wanted to run, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t run without seeming weak, so when the papers came for this house it was my chance to get away. To get away from him, the pack, and the pain of seeing him with someone else.” I was crying now, and it made me mad because I didn’t want to cry. I fucking hated it. I hated the situation and my weakness and the fact I still hadn’t healed. I fucking hated it all, and how dare he climb on top of me and make me feel all the things I was desperately trying to avoid?

I lifted my chin in defiance and glared at him through my tears. “You want to kill me, then fucking do it. I don’t give a shit.” I turned my head to the side and bared my throat. “Do it.”

A low, rattling growl vibrated the air above me and then he leaned in. Stubble grazed my jaw, and my bravado slipped. Oh, God. I was going to die, but instead of the scrape of teeth I felt the warm, wet lave of a tongue. He licked the column of my neck and heat sank into my skin. He licked me again, starting lower down and laving across the bottom of my jaw, and the knot in my chest unraveled a little. The third lick evoked a strange purring sound in my chest. I clamped my jaw shut. What was this?

He raised his head and I turned mine to look up into his ferally fearsome face, taking him in fully for the first time, all sharp angles and planes. His nostrils were slightly flared, lips thin and cruel, but his eyes were a beautiful deep lavender ringed in indigo and framed by thick lashes.

“Fated mates are a gift,” he said softly. “But not everyone deserves one. You were lucky to be set free. Your mate did not deserve you.” His gaze grew cool and detached. “I’m going to bite you now. It will hurt, but it won’t kill you.”

“What?”

He gripped the top of my head with one massive hand and forced it to a tilt. I caught the flash of fangs a moment before he lunged. Pain ripped through my neck, deep and bone-aching. A scream tore up my throat, but I clamped it back.

I had to protect Tate. I had to…Oh…The agony ebbed beneath the lapping and sucking motions of his mouth. Other sensations radiated out from the contact, tingly, nipple-tightening sensations. A moan hit the air.

A rumbling vibration followed, and then he dropped onto me, his weight crushing me, enveloping me, pushing me deep into the mattress.

My head grew fuzzy, my limbs lethargic. My arms came up to touch him. Hot, taut skin. Good. I ran my fingers up to his shoulders and then sank them into his silken hair.

He tore his mouth from my neck with an angry growl, pinning my wrists to the bed and baring bloody teeth in a feral snarl that shattered the heat and replaced it with icy dread.

“No.” He licked his lips clean, his gaze dropping to my mouth. “No.”

I held my breath, recognizing that I’d pushed him somehow, crossed some line, because, hey, being bitten and sucked on wasn’t a boundary breaker of any kind, right?

His grip on my wrists slackened and he released me. The heat and warning bled out of his expression.

We were done, it seemed.

He climbed off me and stood looking down at me. “You opened a rift in our barrier when you came into town and something has followed you in.”

“What?” I sat up and winced as my head spun. “Oh, shit.”

“A human is dead and now we must hunt and kill the intruders before they feed again.”

The enforcer, the investigator in me, sat up and paid attention. “How was the human killed?”

He looked at me with a flat expression. “Torso ripped open. Organs consumed.”

Oh, shit. The pulse in my throat throbbed harder, making my neck burn where he’d bitten me. “Were there any burn marks on the body?”

His eyes narrowed. “You know what it is?”

I did. I so fucking did, and it wasn’t something they could hunt and kill. It wasn’t something any one of us could hunt and kill.

“They’re called cold ones. They plague the city and you won’t be able to kill them.”

His lip curled in a sneer. “You underestimate my pack.”

“No, this isn’t about how strong you are, or how clever or fast you are. Cold ones are unkillable. They don’t die no matter the method used. You could tear one to shreds and the pieces would come back together and reform. Only members of the Order can kill them.”

“And how is that?”

“They have special abilities. Unique powers.” My mind was whirring, dredging up information on the cold ones, bits and pieces I’d learned over the years. “The cold ones are nocturnal. They’re dormant by day so that’s when we need to find and kill them.”

“You said we couldn’t kill them.”

“We can’t. But I know someone who can. A friend. I’ll call her.”

He studied me for a long beat, as if wrestling with a decision, and then he slow-blinked and his feral expression smoothed out.

“Call your friend and kill the cold ones. Do it fast, because if any more humans are killed, then I will kill you.”

My heart stuttered. “What? Why?”

But he was already striding toward the patio doors to my room.

“Wait.”

He paused and the muscles on his back rippled as if there was something beneath, desperate to be free.

“Why do you want to kill me?”

There was a long beat of silence and then, “I don’t.”

He strode onto the patio and was gone.

I slumped back on the bed and waited for my heart to stop pounding. My body tingled and hummed, and although I told myself it was from the aftereffects of fear, the wetness between my thighs said otherwise.

JAX

Bryce’s bike is at the iron gates that lead to the clifftop house.

I park and climb off just as he appears through them. He doesn’t even glance my way, but strides straight to his bike and climbs on.

Fuck it. I have to ask. “Is she alive?”

“For now.” He speaks in the old tongue. “The threats are called cold ones. Unkillable by conventional means. They’re nocturnal so dormant in daytime. Ask Emmit and Anton to patrol the edge of town, keep the cold ones at bay till sunrise. The hybrid knows someone who can dispatch them. Stay with her. Work with her and get this done fast, because if any more humans die, she pays in full blood.”

He revs his engine, then roars off into the night.

The humans of this town are our responsibility because we have no choice. Every death by supernatural means is a tally against us and must be paid in blood. The coppery scent on Bryce’s breath tells me he’s exacted the blood for this single death. But any more deaths and blood won’t be enough.

Only one thing will pay the price.

A sacrifice.

20

QUINN

Tate taped a bandage to my neck with gentle, careful movements. I waited for him to say something, anything, but he was silent.

He’d been silent ever since I’d knocked on his door at three a.m. to ask him where the first-aid kit was, my hand pressed to my throbbing, still bleeding neck. Looked like there was some kind of toxin in a Faoladh’s saliva that prevented coagulation.

The bleeding had stopped now, but my neck hurt. My pride hurt.

I was confused and scared, and all sorts of things. “Tate?”

“Don’t.” He stepped back and looked down at me, jaw tight. “You didn’t scream.”

“I know.”

“You think I’m weak.”

Oh, God. I didn’t have time for the macho pride thing. “Tate, be reasonable.”

“I have a gun, Quinn.”

I stared at him. “What?”

“Under my bed. Loaded with toxin-filled bullets.”

I scanned his face. He would have shot Bryce. “You can’t kill them with toxin-filled bullets. I don’t think they can be killed. All you’d have done is pissed him off and then he would have ripped out your throat.”

“I’m human. They won’t hurt a human. They protect humans. I’ve done my research, and, Quinn, everything can be killed, you just need to know how. Even the cold ones.”

Shit, the cold ones. Those creatures were a plague on the city, hunting by night, lying low by day. Beastly wolven monsters with an aversion to sunlight and a thirst for flesh and blood. No one knew why they were called the cold ones. Some said they had no hearts, leaving them craving the hearts of others, but that didn’t explain why they also ate every other organ packed into a human torso.

I stared at my phone sitting on the island by the fruit bowl, silent and uncommunicative. I’d called Orina twice and left two voicemails. If she was on a mission for the Order, it could be days before she got the messages. Days before she got back to me.

Tate had his thinking frown on. “If the cold ones were kept out of Hawthorne by the barrier, then they must be Lycans of some kind.”

Cold ones were nothing like Lycans. “They can’t be.”

“It’s the only explanation.”

“He’s right.” Jax stepped into the kitchen.

Tate moved to block me from the Faoladh’s line of sight. “Get out. You’re not welcome here.”

Jax sighed and held up his hands. “No can do. The alpha’s assigned me to oversee Quinn, which means we’ll all be working together on this.” He sauntered into the room and hopped onto a stool. “The cold ones must be Lycans, because Lycans are the only breed barred from Hawthorne. If they were anything else, they would have visited us a long time ago.”

“Yeah, you said Lycans go insane here.”

“And how would you know that?” Tate asked. “If Lycans have never been able to get into town.”

Jax pointed a finger at Tate. “Good question. But I never said Lycans had never lived in Hawthorne. A few hundred years ago a pack of Lycans came to Hawthorne, eager to settle here and make it their home. We allowed them to stay, but a few months in, they began to change, becoming aggressive toward the humans, then we had the massacre.” He shrugged. “About a hundred humans dead.”

Wait… “A hundred…like on the old plaque in the bell tower…”

“A memorial to those lost,” Jax said. “We killed most of the Lycans and ran the rest out of town. The barrier adjusted to keep them out, and it’s been that way ever since. Hawthorne doesn’t suit Lycans.”

“You make your barrier sound sentient,” Tate said. “How is it fueled?”

Jax’s expression sharpened, his eyes hardening. “Don’t ask that question. And never ask it around Bryce. It’s not your concern.”

“Noted,” Tate said coolly.

Jax smiled, all amiable and relaxed again, as if he’d flipped the switch to laid-back-human mode. “So, like I said, the barrier only keeps out Lycans, so these cold ones must have Lycan in their DNA, just like you, but more than you. Although it seems your pushing through our barrier is what caused a tear.”

I recalled the strange pop and crack sound as we’d pushed through the barrier into town. Had that been us causing a tear? Oh, shit, had I really done this?

Had I let them in? “I’m sorry, Jax. I didn’t realize.”

“I believe you, and the fact that you’re still alive means that Bryce does too. The human who was killed is an out-of-towner, probably driving through. We’ve disposed of his car and the townsfolk are none the wiser. We’d like to keep it that way. The barrier is healing. No more of these cold ones will get in, but we have to kill the ones that are already here before they hurt any more humans, or…”

“Or what?” Tate asked.

“Or Quinn will pay the price.”

“What the hell do you mean by that?” Tate demanded.

Jax plucked an apple from the fruit bowl and bit into it, chewing and speaking with his mouth full. “Every human death caused by a supernatural must be paid for in blood.” He pointed his apple at me. “You caused the breach, so you’ll pay the price.”

My hand went to my neck. “Is that why….”

His gaze fell to the wound at my neck and his eyes darkened almost as if in longing. “Yes. One life.”

I was still weak from how much blood Bryce had taken. If more humans died…

He bit into the apple again. “So, when is your cold-one-killing friend getting here?”

“We’re leaving,” Tate said. “Pack your bags. Now.”

But I was in an eye-lock with Jax, and something passed between us, an understanding that was pure primal. We were hunters, protectors of our herd. This town was a pen and the humans in it were the herd…my herd.

I’d caused this. Something about my hybrid status, about the anomaly I was, had caused this.

I looked up at Tate, my decision written across my face. I couldn’t run away from it.

“Dammit, Quinn.” Tate walked away, raking his hands through his hair.

“I’ve left Orina messages. She hasn’t called back yet. I don’t know how long it’ll be.”

Jax polished off the apple, eating even the core. “Then we go to plan B. We try to herd the cold ones out of town.”

“They won’t be easily herded,” Tate said. “They’re highly intelligent creatures. Cunning and—"

My phone buzzed, and both Tate and I leaned forward to read the caller ID.

“Fuck.” Tate exhaled and ran a hand over his face in relief.

I snatched up the phone and strode out of the kitchen before answering the call, nerves fluttering in my belly. “Hello, Orina.”

“QUINN, ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?” There was concern in Orina’s tone. Warm and real and my eyes pricked.

How had I not realized how much I’d missed hearing her voice? “I’m not, actually. I’m in trouble, and I need your help. I—”

“Where are you?”

“Um… a town called Hawthorne on the outskirts of—”

“I’ll find it. I’ll be there in a few hours. Where are you staying?”

“Clifftop house, and Orina, wait, before you hang up…”

“What?”

“There are cold ones here.”

“I’ll bring Max.”

She hung up. No mention of the incident that had torn us apart, no mention of the fact we hadn’t spoken in years, of the fact I’d pushed her away. Nothing.

I’d called her for help, and she was coming, no questions asked. I’d often doubted my interpretation of events over the years. Young, foolish, hot-headed, I was beginning to see that maybe I’d torn us apart for nothing, and if that was the case, then it was up to me to bring us back together.

I scrolled through my contacts to Nyx’s name and then hit dial.

It was time to get the gang back together.

FOUR HOURS of sleep and I was back in the kitchen with a mug of coffee. Jax was sprawled across the sofa in the lounge with way too much naked flesh on display for any warm-blooded female to deal with.

Orina and Nyx would be here soon and there was no denying the flutter of excited nerves in my belly. To see them again and speak to them face to face would be…I didn’t have words to describe the feeling.

We’d been the three amigos and we’d had so many plans. Had I ruined them with my jealousy and insecurity?

“Morning.” Tate appeared in the doorway, hair all ruffled and bedhead, lips pouty from sleep. Black joggers hung low on his slender hips, leaving a strip of flesh exposed between the waistband and the hem of his tee.

He padded to the fridge and pulled out a carton of orange juice.

“Coffee?” I grabbed another mug from the cupboard.

“Hmmm.” He poured juice, glugged it, and sighed. “Strong, please.”

“Orina and Nyx will be here soon.”

He parked his butt on a stool. “You okay?”

“I know there’ll be some air clearing to be done.”

“How do you feel about that?”

I handed him his coffee and joined him at the table. “Nervous. Tate…I think it might have been my fault.”

He studied me soberly from behind his spectacles. “You never told me.”

I hadn’t, because I’d been scared that if I did, he might point out exactly what I’d suspected. That I’d been in the wrong.

“Orina was always the smart one, the organized one, while Nyx was the kickass mouthy chick, and me… I fell kinda in between the two. I don’t know why, but even though I was part of the group I always felt like the third wheel, you know? I mean, looking back I can see it was my own insecurity. They never did anything to cut me out or make me feel unwanted, it was in my head. When we left the Ministry and started our business, it got worse.” I sipped my coffee. “I wanted to be on all the dangerous cases, you know, to show them I was just as good as they were. Nyx with her demon blood and her huge dog-beast thing that’d tear her adversary to shreds, and Orina with her celestial blood and heritage and her skill with blades. Me and my messy hybrid nature couldn’t compete; at least I didn’t think I could. Orina vetoed my going out on jobs. She said I was the glue that held us together, that the office and the business side of things needed me, so I ended up managing the admin side and it kinda pissed me off.”

“But organization is one of your strengths.”

“I know. I mean I get that, but back then things felt different. Then Lisa came to work with us. She was a sweet kid, a couple of years younger than us, a Lycan but not part of a pack. Her mother had been a rogue, so Lisa had never known a pack. I took her under my wing, and for once I had someone who looked up to me.” I exhaled because the next part was where it got bad.

“Quinn?” Tate covered my hand with his. “You don’t have to talk about this.”

I gave him a tremulous smile. “I know, but I think… I think I need to say it out loud.”

“Okay.”

“A case came through while Nyx and Orina were already out on one. Urgent in my mind, but on reflection I could have waited. I called them and they didn’t answer, so I decided to deal with it myself.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “And I took Lisa with me.”

“Oh…” Tate squeezed my hand.

He knew what was coming. Heck, I should have known too back then. But I’d been so excited about proving myself, about looking like a hero…

“We ended up trapped in a warehouse with four vamps. Lisa didn’t make it out alive. They…They ripped out her throat in front of me, and I…I ran.” I covered my face with my hands, guilt and disgust surging up to choke me. “Oh, fuck.”

“Quinn—”

“I blamed Orina,” I forged on. “I blamed her for putting me on desk duty. For not taking me on active cases. For not letting me learn how to fight and kick ass like she could. I blamed her for it all, including Lisa’s death, when in reality it was my fault. When in reality I’ve been running from the truth all these years. Lisa died because of my idiotic need to compete with my friends. I killed her. Me, and no one else, and it’s time I take responsibility for that.” I locked gazes with him, expecting to see derision or disgust, but I should have known better. Tate had never judged me. But it was time I judged myself. “I fucked up, Tate.”

“You did,” Tate agreed. “And you’ve made up for it every day since with all the good you’ve done for our pack. You trained hard and made yourself stronger, faster, and better. You’ve atoned. Now it’s time to make things right with your friends and move forward.”

He made it sound so easy, and maybe it could be. “I love it when you string several long sentences together.”

“Hmmmm.” He drained his mug. “Now I’ve used up most of my words for the day.” He smiled and my heart throbbed.

“Thank you.”

“Anytime, Quinn.” He washed out his mug and set it on the drainer. “I need to pop out for a bit, but I’ll be right back.”

I twisted in my seat to look at him. “Oh?”

“Willow will be waiting for me. I don’t have her number to cancel so I need to cancel in person.”

Oh, shit, his breakfast with the demon. A pang of jealousy lanced through me. No. No, we would not do that.

“Go have breakfast.” I gave him my sincerest smile, teeth and all. “I mean you have to eat, and there’s nothing to be done until Orina gets here. The cold ones won’t attack in the day.”

He frowned. “I’m not going on a date when we have this hanging over our heads.”

I loved that he said “our” and not “your,” but the fact was, this was my problem, not his. “There’s time. Go eat. Besides, I could do with some alone time.”

Tate arched a brow. “With Jax on the sofa?”

I leaned in and whispered, “I think he might be nocturnal too, actually.”

Tate chuckled and the sound was like a summer breeze. “You might be right. He sleeps like he’s dead.”

I pushed off the stool and stepped up to Tate, pushing up on tiptoe to smooth his hair off his forehead. “Go make yourself slick and get out of here.”

His gaze softened and locked with mine and a stab of heat lanced between us, unexpected, new, and confusing.

I dropped my hand and my gaze, not sure what to make of the moment and the way my heart was suddenly beating way too fast.

“Quinn…”

“Mmmm?”

“Are you sure you want me to go?”

I’d been unfair and selfish with my friends once before. I wouldn’t make the same mistake with Tate. I fixed a bright smile on my face and aimed it at him like a weapon. “I’m sure. Go. Oooh, and bring me back a smoothie, will ya?”

The tension dropped from his shoulders and he returned my smile, although I wasn’t quite sure it reached his eyes. “Call me if anything happens.”

I waited for him to leave before flopping back into my seat and covering my face with my hands again.

Urgh, I needed to get my frazzled emotions under control and fast.

AN HOUR later and Jax was still dead to the world. I took a drink out into the garden and sat on the stone bench under the shade of the tree. This place was surreal. There were cold ones in the town, and I was sitting here sipping lemonade with excitement fizzing in my belly because my best friends were coming to visit.

To kill cold ones.

But still, they were coming to see me.

I was a mess.

“Interesting events happening in the town.”

I jumped, hand going to my chest, and then glared up at the cat. “You keep tabs on current affairs?”

“I make it my business to be in the know, yes,” he purred.

“And what do you know?”

“A new threat is in town.” He peered down at me with his freaky hypnotic eyes. “Nothing will be the same again.”

“I have it covered. My friend will take care of the cold ones.”

The cat blinked and then leapt off the tree and over the fence before padding gracefully toward the shrubs. He looked back over his shoulder, and I swear, if cats could smirk, he’d be smirking. “I wasn’t talking about the cold ones.”

He dove into the foliage and was gone.

“Fucking freaky feline.” I shook my head and turned to the garden to find a figure standing a couple of meters away. I killed the shriek that was trying to shoot up my throat and stared at the woman. “Selene, what are you doing here?”

Selene smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, I just…I wanted to come and see you.”

Um… “Why?”

She tucked her long dark hair behind one ear, confirming my conclusion that she was indeed fae. “I…I’m not sure. I just…” She laughed self-deprecatingly. “I have no idea what I’m doing here, actually. If Lox finds out I left the compound, he’ll flip.”

“You’re mated to one of them.” It wasn’t a question, but she answered anyway.

“Yes. I am.” She took a few steps closer, her gaze tripping across my face. She shook her head. “Remarkable.”

The piercing way she studied me made me uneasy. “What?”

“You looked familiar to me the other night, but it was dark and there was too much shadow playing across your face. I couldn’t be sure…And then in the store the other day, I thought you were someone else for a moment.”

“Oh?”

She did that self-deprecating laugh again. “Crazy, I know. I guess, after so long away from home, my mind is looking for some kind of connection.”

“And where is home?”

“It’s—”

“What are you doing here?” Jax strode across the lawn toward us, and Selene shrank away from him.

I moved to stand in front of her on instinct. “Hey. What the fuck?”

Jax ground to a halt a few feet away, bare chest heaving. He’d pulled on his jeans, but his feet were bare, and his face was still puffy from sleep.

“What are you doing here?” he asked Selene again. “Come to spy on me?”

Selene made a sound that was part protest, part laugh.

“You think that’s funny?” he demanded.

“No, Jax. I don’t think any of this is funny and I didn’t come here for you. I came to see Quinn.” She stepped forward to stand beside me and her sweet fragrance filled my head. “I wanted to invite her to the house for dinner.”

And why did I get the impression that she was making this up on the fly?

“Are you insane?” Jax sneered. “You can’t invite an outsider into the pack house.”

“Your lover isn’t an outsider. She works for the pack now,” Selene said. “Besides, it would be nice for the others to get to know the woman who’s stolen your attention.”

There was a definite snide edge to that comment.

“You know it doesn’t work that way. She can’t be…” He growled in exasperation. “Go home, Selene. Go back to Lox where you belong and stay out of my affairs.”

Selene’s delicate jaw tensed and then she fixed her beautiful emerald eyes on me. “The invitation stands, Quinn, whenever you like.”

She speared Jax with a sharp glance, then cut across the lawn, making sure to give him a wide berth.

He watched her until she disappeared around the side of the house and then turned to me. “What did she say to you?”

He was no longer the easygoing guy I’d come to know. He was a ruffled, tense beast of a man towering over me. There was a strange fire in his eyes that I didn’t understand, and usually if someone spoke to me in this tone, stepped into my personal space like this, I’d react with cutting words and slip into defense mode, but my gut contradicted my go-to response, because he wasn’t lashing out at me, he was simply lashing out.

I’d seen something between him and Selene the other night at the pack house, and now I was sure I hadn’t been imagining it.

“Who is she to you, Jax? Or should I say, who was she to you?”

His eyes flinched and his expression closed off. The tension radiating off him seemed to melt back into his skin.

“No one. She’s no one to me.”

Lie.

He stepped closer, a new heat beating off his skin and blooming in his eyes. “But you could be.”

I locked my knees and held my ground, recognizing deflection when I saw it.

He reached up to flick a tendril of hair away from my cheek and ran his finger along my jaw. “We could have some fun.”

“Rollercoasters, beach parties, and carnivals are my idea of fun. Being bent over your knee and finger fucked in public isn’t.”

He lightly cupped my chin and ran his thumb across my cheek, sending my stomach into a traitorous flip.

“You’d be surprised.”

“So will you, by a knee to the crotch, if you don’t get your hands off me right now.”

He obliged and stepped back with a chuckle. “Aw, no fun.” He padded toward the house, loose-limbed and carefree. “Come on, I’m making lunch.”

He vanished through the patio doors, and I let out a sharp breath. I could handle Bryce and the threat of violence and death. That shit was standard in Lycan packs. The whole asserting-dominance thing was a regular occurrence, although admittedly, Hawthorne Pack took it to the next level. But Jax…Jax was confusing with his hot-and-cold and human-to-beast swings, although I didn’t doubt for one second that if I pushed him too far, his amiable act would slip to reveal his true self—the beast that I’d glimpsed in the depths of his lapis-blue eyes.

And that was a side of Jax I didn’t want to meet.

My ears perked up at the distant crunch of tires on gravel.

My palm itched in the spot where I’d sliced it over a decade ago to draw blood for an oath.

My pulse sped up as the part of me, long buried, the part I’d pushed aside and hidden from for years, rose to the surface.

Orina and Nyx were here.

21

I rounded the side of the house and stepped onto the drive in time to see my oldest friends climb out of the bug.

Pea, the green mini, sat on the gravel like a… well, a fat pea, hence the name. She was polished and in pristine condition and my eyes welled at the sight of her. We’d pooled our savings to buy this baby. The get-us-everywhere vehicle, the getaway car. And standing either side of her were the two best friends I’d pushed away in a bid to protect myself.

Orina’s silver hair was piled on top of her head in a messy bun, her habitual style for kicking ass, because you can’t have the monsters grabbing your hair in a fight. She was dressed in cut-offs and a tee, feet shoved into sandals, but there was a hold-all dangling from her fingers that would contain her kickass gear and weapons. Nyx looked casual-sexy in skinny jeans, vest, and flip-flops. She popped gum and winked at me. She’d grown out her dark hair so it fell in waves to her waist, and were those fresh tattoos running up her arm?

“Hey.” I held up a hand in a lame wave. Fuck, my throat was tightening with emotion and I was about to blub like a baby. “You came.”

Nyx pulled a piece of paper from her pocket and held it up. “Sisterhood Pact, baby. Signed in blood, remember.” She grinned. “But that’s not why we came.”

“No,” Orina said softly. “We missed you.”

A cacophony of emotions washed over me in a mini tsunami. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for being stupid. I’m so fucking sorry for everything.” The tears spilled over and my feet carried me toward them.

They met me halfway with hugs and tearful laughter, and in that moment the years between us melted like we’d never been apart.

“Look at your hair!” Nyx plucked a tendril and held it up to the light. “Pink?”

“It suits her,” Orina said. Her tone was thick with emotion. “You look great, Quinn.”

“So do you guys.”

“I look hungry,” Nyx said. “If I don’t get some food soon, I’m gonna pass out.”

“You and your stomach.” Orina rolled her eyes.

“Hey, I have metabolism issues.”

“No, you have greed issues and eyes-are-bigger-than-your-stomach issues,” Orina corrected.

A prickle up my spine alerted me to Jax’s arrival.

“Well, well, Quinn,” he drawled. “If you’d told me your friends were this beautiful, I’d have baked a cake.” He stood framed in the doorway, jeans hanging low on his hips, arms crossed over his muscular bare chest, golden hair mussed as if he’d just woken up, which was a lie cos he’d been up for a while.

Both Nyx and Orina tensed. They felt it. The power. The otherness. They felt it even though he was masking, but then my buddies always had an excellent sense for danger.

I cleared my throat. “This is Jax, beta of the Hawthorne Pack.”

“I’ll be your guide when we hunt the cold ones,” Jax said.

“I don’t need a guide,” Orina replied coolly. “I can track and hunt them just fine solo.”

Jax’s amiable smile didn’t slip, but the warmth left his eyes. “It’s not a choice, Silver. My territory, my rules.”

Oh, shit, Orina followed her own rules and danced to her own tune and she hated the whole claiming-of-territory thing, but she was smart enough not to let it get in the way of her sacred duty to protect humanity. She was here to kill cold ones and that’s what she’d do.

She lifted her chin defiantly. “You want to tag along, fine. But stay out of my way. I work solo, it’s how I roll.”

Jax’s smile fell and the cold, brutal thing that hid beneath his skin looked out at us. “Let’s get something straight. Your friend brought those creatures onto our land. You’ll get rid of them before they take any more human lives, or she’ll pay the price in blood.”

Nyx bristled. “What the fuck?”

Jax stretched. “Because in Hawthorne, that’s how we roll.” He dropped us a wink, then turned and padded into the house. “I’ll take two steaks.”

“Quinn, what the heck is he talking about?” Nyx demanded.

“Blood price…” Orina looked thoughtful. “A life for a life. What the heck have you gotten yourself into, babe?”

I exhaled. “Honestly, guys, I don’t even fucking know.”

“In that case, you best fill us in.” Nyx slung an arm around my shoulder and steered me toward the house. “Talk, food, and then slaying.”

“Sounds like a plan.” There was a smile in Orina’s voice.

I’d forgotten how much they loved the hunt.

“ARE YOU INSANE?” Orina asked.

Nyx looked impressed. “Pack council status, eh? Quite a carrot to dangle.”

“I want it, Nyx.”

“I know.” Why did she look sad about that?

“Quinn, this is insane,” Orina said again. “This pack, these…whatever they are, don’t seem to follow Lycan rule. Blood price is archaic and frankly should be outlawed and they practice it here. And the way you described them…And Tate’s findings. I say we kill the cold ones, then you pack your shit and get the hell out of town with us.”

I glanced back at the house from my spot on the stone bench at the back of the garden. Jax was inside somewhere, but we were far enough to be sure he couldn’t hear our conversation. Food had been consumed and it was almost time to head out in search of the cold ones. The midday sun meant we had about eight hours before sunset. Thank God for long summer days.

“You can come stay with me,” Nyx said. “I’ve got room.”

Orina nodded. “You don’t need Swiftwood. They’re using you. Can’t you see that?”

I wasn’t a fool. Of course I knew that, but the promise of status was a real thing. “I’ve worked hard to gain their respect and trust, and this promotion is real. I can have that. I can be accepted. All I need to do is this one—”

“Crazy insane thing of stealing an ancient relic from a group of ancient shifters of unknown origin, who will, as they’ve clearly told you, rip out your throat if they feel like it.” Orina shook her head in wonder. “Babe. This is a bad idea.”

She was right, it was dangerous. It was crazy dangerous, but she was wrong about one thing. I could pull this off. I wasn’t the same person as five years ago.

“I’ve changed, Orina. I’m not the pack enforcer for nothing. I’m good at what I do.”

Orina sighed. “I know you are. I’ve been keeping tabs. This isn’t about skill. It’s about risk, and the risk here is way too high. This artifact will be guarded, protected. Even if you do get to it, what are the odds of you getting away with it? You can’t do this, Quinn, and Ronuld was a wanker for sending you.”

“Maybe not alone,” Nyx said. She arched a brow and flicked a glance between Orina and me. “But with a little help…”

Orina pressed her lips together and then nodded. “We do this, and we get out of town straight away. Tate too.”

A few years ago, my first thought would have been that they were trying to take over, but I knew better now. They were trying to help, and I’d let them, but, “I need to do this myself, guys. I need to earn it. But any advice or help leading up to the actual…retrieval will be much appreciated.”

Nyx frowned. “You want to go onto their territory solo?”

“What’s your plan?” Orina asked. “When do you plan to search for this item?”

Until this moment I hadn’t really thought about the when. I’d been too busy on the how. But Selene’s invitation had opened up an opportunity. “I’ve been invited to dinner at the pack house. I figure I can ask some questions, see what I can glean about where this artifact is kept. Maybe search the house a little and get a lay of the land.”

“And if it’s being kept in the forest where the alpha roams?” Orina said.

Tate had posed the same question. “Then I’ll have to find a way to bypass them. A way to mask my scent.”

“I can help with that,” Nyx said. “In fact, I can help with the location of the artifact too.” She looked both sheepish and excited.

Orina studied her with interest. “Now I’m intrigued.”

Nyx shrugged and waved a casual hand. “Oh, about three months ago I discovered a new ability linked to my demon blood. It looks like I can enter the minds of certain animals, see through their eyes, and in some cases control their bodies. Nothing too exciting.”

“Nyx!” Orina grabbed her hand. “That’s awesome. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I wanted to come to grips with it first.”

Okay, to the outsider this might seem like a weird thing to be super excited about, but when it came to Nyx and her demon-with-no-demonic-abilities status, it was a huge deal. Nyx was like me, a hybrid with so little demon blood she couldn’t even call herself a demon in polite demonic society and get away with it.

Usually, the offspring of human and supernatural pairings inherited their supernatural parent’s traits and abilities. Their human side was suppressed. Nyx and I were different, our human sides were stronger, but now Nyx was coming into her own and maybe she wasn’t like me after all. Maybe her evolution had just been delayed.

“I’m so happy for you, babe.” I squeezed her hand.

“Me too.” She leaned in with a wicked smile. “It means I can totally spy for you. Get onto their land, find this artifact, and lead you to it.”

“We can use hidden comms,” Orina said.

“We’ll wait for you off grounds in Pea, packed up, ready to jet.”

My pulse hammered with excitement. This was it. This could work.

“What do you say?” Orina asked. “Wanna go on a mission?”

My heart swelled. Stealing from the Hawthorne Pack was no longer scary as fuck. “Yes. Hell, yes.”

“Whoa, enough with the blasphemy,” Nyx said in mock seriousness.

We all burst into laughter.

THE KITCHEN WAS a mess of cooking utensils and plates, but clean-up would have to wait. We had three cold ones to find and kill.

We gathered in the lounge after suiting up. Orina went to Pea to retrieve Max, a long sword that could morph into an axe if needed. The weapon was an enchanted gift from her guardian on her eighteenth birthday. Back then, working for the Order hadn’t been on her radar. How things had changed.

Nyx came equipped with many blades. She was quick and skilled with them, her fighting style more rogue than warrior, relying on stealth to get the job done. Not always easy with a huge dog-beast at your heels, but Chase wasn’t with her this time.

Strange. “How’s Chase?”

“What we need to ask is where’s Chase,” Orina said.

Nyx shrugged. “Dunno, the fucker’s been AWOL for three weeks.”

Ouch. That beastly pooch had been with her for years. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too.” Her smile was empty.

She might have moaned about Chase’s hefty ass and overbearing presence, but she loved that beast dog.

“Are we ready?” Tate joined us.

He looked badass as usual, and Nyx let out a low wolf whistle.

Tate gave her a flat look. “Really, Nyx, objectifying is not cool.” Then he flashed one of his rare grins. “It’s good to see you again.”

“You too, big guy.”

The girls and Tate had been two separate parts of my life. Ministry time had been spent with the girls and vacations with the pack and Tate. They’d crossed paths afterwards, for a while, when we’d set up our business, so Tate was familiar with Orina and Nyx.

And now my three best friends were here in a room together with me about to go hunting cold ones.

“Hey.” Orina smiled up at Tate, and I remembered she’d had a huge crush on him for months after I’d first introduced them.

I studied her now and there was no sign of the tell-tale blush that had been present around Tate. Back then the thought of Tate in that way had been eew, but now…

I looked across at him, suited up to come hunting with me, even though I knew he hated it, and my pulse kicked up a notch.

Fuck.

Jax appeared in the lounge doorway. “Emmit and Anton are on standby at the edge of town. Let’s go. Sunlight’s wasting.”

EMMIT and Anton were indeed waiting on the edge of town, leaning up against a huge navy-blue Hummer, which, set against their monolithic frames, didn’t look that huge at all. They pushed off metal as we parked. Jax on his bike, and me, the girls, and Tate in our Rover.

We’d have brought Pea but there’d be no way Tate could have folded his long legs into the mini.

Jax climbed off his bike and approached the guys while we climbed out of the car. Orina grabbed Max and shoved him into the holster across her back, Nyx strapped on her weapons belt and did a knife check, Tate shoved a blade into his thigh holster, and I shrugged on my armor jacket.

We strode over to Jax and he turned as we approached, stepping back so we made a loose circle.

“Scent strongest to the east.” Emmit’s voice was gravel and broken glass. “But gets confusing.”

“Scent everywhere,” Anton added. His dark gaze zeroed in on me and his nostrils flared. He leaned in, sniffing the air around me.

I froze on instinct, allowing the invasion of personal space, recognizing it for what it was: one beast familiarizing itself with another.

Nyx and Orina stepped closer to me. I’d always been the smallest of the group and the girls obviously hadn’t lost their protective urge toward me. But I wasn’t in danger, because I wasn’t a threat, and I wasn’t prey.

Anton pulled back, satisfied.

“I can untangle the scent,” Orina said now that the sniffing was over. “The cold ones release a pheromone that masks them. It doesn’t affect me. I can still track them.”

Emmit’s gaze tracked over Orina with interest. He inhaled deeply and then his eyes narrowed. “What are you?”

“I’m angel blessed. I work with the Order and I’m your only hope of slaying these fuckers, so stay on my tail, follow my lead, and don’t get in my way.”

Anton growled, baring his teeth. “We don’t take orders from you.”

“But you take them from me,” Jax said. “Do as she says…For now.”

Emmit’s lip curled.

She’d pissed them off and put them on the defensive in typical Orina style, because when it came to a job, she liked to be in charge, but that wasn’t going to work with the Faoladh. If we were going to do this, we had to work with them and we had to respect them and their territory. Boundaries, territory, and hierarchy were the way of Lycans, and Orina didn’t get that.

Time to step in. “Emmit, Anton, I did this. I messed up the barrier and these creatures got in, and I’m so sorry. I want to help, but I can’t kill them, Orina can. We respect that Hawthorne is your territory, but the cold ones are her domain.” I gave Orina a pointed look, hoping she got the point.

Orina sighed. “I can get rid of these creatures for you, but I’ll need you to follow my lead and respect that I know what I’m doing. We can work together on this.”

I glanced at Jax to find him watching me with a strange expression, one that, if I didn’t know better, I’d decipher as respect.

Anton’s chest stopped vibrating.

Emmit nodded curtly. “What do you need us to do?”

Orina’s face lit up with a pre-hunt glow. “I’m so glad you asked.”

22

The pack fanned out, keeping a good radial distance around Orina. Tate, Nyx, and I stayed in the space between Orina and the Faoladh.

The plan was for the Faoladh to act as a wall to stop the cold ones from escaping before Orina killed them.

I didn’t understand how she could do it. I’d asked once if it had something to do with the weapon she used, but she’d denied it. It was an Order secret, and one she couldn’t divulge, but watching her work now made my heart swell with pride. She seemed to see tracks we couldn’t and pick up scents we were unable to.

We made good progress following a trail only Orina could see. We walked for at least an hour, and soon the town was far to the east. It looked like the cold ones had taken refuge in the forest to the north. Was this the same forest that connected to the pack house land? It seemed to stretch for miles, and nature was a sharp, heady aroma in the air.

We dove into the lush green canopy, and Orina sped up, weaving between the trees like a pro. Long minutes passed as we traveled deeper into the woods.

Behind us the Faoladh began to make a rattling, growling noise, and then I caught a whiff of a new scent, a scent Orina had been following all along but was only revealed to us now. Sulphuric and eye-watering, it was distinctive in nature.

How could we have missed this?

Cold ones.

They’d obviously stopped masking their scent, but why?

It got stronger until it saturated the air and the Faoladh were practically vibrating with the suppressed need to act.

There was a clearing up ahead.

Orina fell into a crouch, hiding her body behind a thick tree trunk. I caught the sound of rushing water.

“Lake up ahead,” Jax said in my ear.

I jerked away from him. How the fuck had he snuck up on me without my hearing him? I might not be able to shift into a Lycan, but my senses were sharp. He’d bypassed them completely and I couldn’t help but be disconcerted.

I caught Tate’s eye over Jax’s shoulder. My friend was crouched by a tree a meter away, and his frown told me he wasn’t happy with how up close and personal Jax was right now. I smiled to let him know it was okay, even though the pressure of Jax’s presence was playing havoc with my primal instincts.

Nyx was a little way to my right and Orina up ahead, but right now Jax was my focal point. His unique musk scent, his overpowering aura, and the way his mouth turned up slightly at the corners even when he wasn’t smiling.

“Small waterfall,” Jax continued. “Caves hidden behind them.” He made a sound of exasperation. “Should have thought of that.”

His sentences were clipped now like Emmit and Anton, his tone deeper and gruffer, and the air around him was charged, teasing the hairs on my arms to attention. The Lycan hidden deep inside me was alert, recognizing how close it was to another predator. There was wariness, a frisson of fear, but superseding that was excitement and the buzz of…dare I say, arousal. My gaze flicked up and he locked me in his sights, his eyes intense and bright in his chiseled face. I wanted to move away, but at the same time I wanted to lean into him. His eyes darkened, pupils dilating so that I could see my face in them, mouth slightly parted, eyes at half-mast. Fuck, I looked like I was waiting to be kissed.

I pulled back, breathing through my mouth to minimize the inhalation of his scent, and focused on Orina, who was headed toward us.

“They’re up ahead,” she said. “I see a body of water.”

“Caves behind waterfall,” Jax said.

Orina nodded. “I’ll go in. You guys keep a perimeter outside. Stall any that make it out.”

“Wait.” I grabbed her arm. “You’re going in alone?”

She grinned. “I hunt alone.”

“Maybe, but I’m coming with you. I’ll play first line of defense to stop them from getting out of the cave.”

She pondered it. “Fine. You stay back, though.”

I nodded, stupidly pleased that she’d let me come. I guess the teenage me was still in there somewhere.

“I’ll take a post outside the cave,” Nyx said.

“I’ll stand with Nyx,” Tate added.

“We make up final line,” Jax growled.

Was his face longer? Sharper? I blinked, but he was just him again.

“Plenty of time till sundown,” Orina said. “Let’s do this.”

THERE WAS no disguising the cold ones’ tracks leading to the water’s edge, and there was no way to the caves but through the damn water.

“Not deep,” Jax said. “Stepping stones.”

The Faoladh stayed on shore, fanning out to cover ground. If the cold ones made it out, they’d have to get past them. Nyx, Tate, and I followed Orina into the water, which sloshed up to my ankles and seeped through my trousers, but the stepping stones started at that point. Large enough for one person to stand on at a time, they wove their way toward the waterfall.

Had they been set here specifically to create a path to the hidden caves? Who’d used them in the past?

There was a story here, and it bugged me that I might never find out, because even though Hawthorne was beginning to feel weirdly like home, it wasn’t, and I’d be leaving soon. Betraying the Faoladh, stealing from them and running. But my pack was my family. They had to come first.

If I didn’t do this, then we’d be swallowed by Winterhide, and that would be the end of us.

No. I had to do this.

My foot slipped and my toe tipped in the water before I could right myself. Focus, woman.

Orina skipped ahead, almost at the waterfall. I picked up speed, allowing my Lycan grace to take over, and caught up to her easily. We stepped onto a rocky ledge beside the waterfall.

The rush of water meant we’d have to shout to be heard, but Orina made hand gestures to Nyx and Tate, telling them to stay put and then indicating that I follow.

She slipped through the water and I dove in after her, soaked in seconds. The water kissed my skin, seeping into me like a delicious breath. The world was suddenly brighter, the air in my lungs sweeter, and a strange energy coursed through me, potent and new.

We were in a tunnel and Orina looked over her shoulder, her eyes gleaming like silver pennies in the dark.

She jerked her head in a come-on gesture, then continued down the passage. I left the energizing influence of the waterfall behind, hands skimming across moss-covered rock as I followed my friend.

The tunnel grew wider, opening onto a gray expanse. There was light beyond. Orina came to a standstill with her back to me, her posture stiff, but not with the kind of tension that preceded an attack or defense. No, this was more…shock.

I joined her, peering over her shoulder into the chamber beyond, and for a moment I wasn’t sure what I was seeing, then the pieces fell into place in my mind to build a picture.

Three gigantic silvery-gray beasts lay on the ground, thick reptilian tails curled around fur-covered bodies and massive wolven heads tucked in. Their backs rose and fell in sleep, but that wasn’t the messed-up part. Two humans were stuck to the wall, covered in silvery slime. Their eyes were closed but their mouths were open in silent screams, and their torsos…Oh, God, what were those bulbous sacs clinging to their torsos? The sacs shivered and shuddered as if there was something in each one.

Orina backed up and propelled me halfway down the tunnel before drawing me to a halt.

“Stay here,” she whispered.

“What the hell is happening?” I kept my voice low. “There are humans on the wall.”

“And those are apex cold ones in there, the only kind that can breed. The humans are incubators.” She clenched her teeth. “Shit. You didn’t tell me there were any missing people in town.”

“There aren’t, not as far as I know, but….” A thought occurred to me. “Jax said the dead human on the road was an out-of-towner. His car was empty, though.”

“He probably wasn’t alone. They killed him for food and then brought back his companions to breed in.”

“Oh, fuck, the sacs…”

“Yeah, they’re cold one young. The man was killed last night, so these young have had more than twelve hours to gestate, which means they’ll be hatching any minute. With a food source to hand, they can grow to half the size of a mature cold one in minutes. That means five cold ones to fight, not three. Unless I take them out right now.”

I didn’t need to ask if she could take on five solo; her face told me that answer.

“Get back outside and stay there,” she ordered. “Young one blood is toxic.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll be fine.” She made to turn away, but I grabbed her arm.

“Answer the question, Orina. Is it toxic to you?”

She exhaled in exasperation. “Yes. But I’m trained to do this. Now go.” She shooed me.

Like hell. “Can the younglings be killed by a regular person?”

“What?”

“I mean they’re not mature, so are they easier to kill?”

She frowned. “Yes, they can be killed by a regular person, which is why their blood is toxic until they fully mature. It’s a defense mechanism.”

That settled it. “I’m coming with you.”

“No.”

“I can take out the younglings while they feed and allow you to focus on the breeders.”

“Their blood is toxic,” she repeated. “Deadly.”

“My jacket is armored, and decapitation should keep spray to a minimum.”

She looked torn. Time to push. “Let’s kill those fuckers before they—”

A screech echoed down the tunnel.

“Fuck!” Orina ran toward the chamber.

I followed with the hilt of my sword clutched tight in my hand, ready to swing. The three breeders were no longer asleep in the center of the chamber but awake and stationed by the human bodies, which jerked and twitched as the young that had burst from their sacs feasted on fresh organs.

Orina leapt into motion, decapitating the nearest cold one with a graceful swing and twist that ended in a crouch.

The other two breeders screeched, blasting her with their foul breath before attacking.

“Stay back!” Orina ordered me. “Stick to the perimeter.”

Part of me screamed that I was a hindrance here, that I would just get in the way. The old doubts surfaced, the same ones that were always present around Nyx and Orina, but I tamped them down. I was no longer that person.

The breeders kept their focus on Orina, recognizing her as the real threat in the room. She could take them out, I just needed to make sure the younglings didn’t get free. As Orina twirled, stabbed, and sliced at the breeders, herding them away from the exit, I crossed the room toward the younglings who were happily feeding on the humans. The squelch and crunch of their ministrations was loud enough to carry over the fight taking place in the center of the chamber. My stomach turned. They were growing as they fed, bodies pulsing and thickening so that they were almost the size of a large Lycan now.

I needed to strike fast and lethally. Decapitations would definitely work best. Least blood spatter so minimum toxin spray.

I came up behind them, and if they sensed my presence, they didn’t show it. I inhaled, then took a powerful swing.

My blade cut a path through the air and sliced through the nearest youngling’s neck like hot steel through butter. Its body shuddered and convulsed, then its head slid off and hit the ground with a wet thud.

The room was suddenly super silent. The air stilled as if the world held its breath.

“Quinn, watch out!” Orina bellowed.

I turned in time to see a cold one leaping at me. My limbs locked in terror for a fraction of a second, but then I slipped into survival mode, bringing my sword up to eviscerate the beast. Hot blood and intestinal matter spilled out and the stench hit the back of my throat, making me gag.

The beast twisted away from me mid-air, then hit the ground, but the wound I’d inflicted was already healing. I stabbed it again and again. It jerked, snapped, and twisted. Fuck, it was strong. Growls and grunts told me Orina was still working on the other cold one. I had to keep this one busy until—

Something knocked my legs out from under me. The fucker’s tail. Shit. My back hit the ground, but I scrambled to my feet quickly as the cold one pulled itself up to stand over me. Its silvery, inhuman eyes locked onto me, filled with malice and intelligence. It pulled its lips back from its powerful five-inch fangs and lunged.

My scream tore the air, blade coming up and aimed for its face, but its head was gone, replaced by Orina’s grinning face.

“Fucking cold ones.” She hawked and spat.

The chamber was finally silent, cold one bodies strewn across the rock floor, blood painting the walls.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” she said.

My scalp prickled. Something wasn’t right. We were missing something. I caught movement behind Orina.

The last youngling.

The next moment seemed to happen in slow motion. The youngling’s open maw aimed for an oblivious Orina’s head. My warning bellow and Orina’s shocked comprehension as she twisted toward the beast.

There was no way she could decapitate it up close without getting toxin on her. I was in motion even before I consciously decided what to do. Shoving Orina out of the youngling’s path with Lycan force, I brought my sword up, lodging it in the youngling’s chest. Its torso popped, spraying silver goo. Heat spattered my face and stung my hands. I yanked my sword out of the beast, and it slumped to the ground. Dead.

A wave of dizziness assaulted me.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Quinn, fuck.”

My vision was blurry. “Orina?”

She grabbed me, rubbing my face and neck with a rough cloth before moving to my hands. But the burn wouldn’t stop. It was tunneling deep into my skin.

“Shit. Oh, shit.” Orina steered me toward the exit.

My limbs felt shaky. “Orina?”

“Stay with me, Quinn. Just. Oh, God.”

Blessed cool water took away the burn for a moment, then we were bathed in sunlight outside the cavern. My vision went dark.

“I can’t see…” My words were a dry whisper.

“What happened?” Tate asked. “What’s wrong with her.”

“She got hit by toxin.” Orina’s tone was thick with the threat of tears. “She saved me.”

Bad, this was bad.

“Where do we get an antidote?” Tate demanded.

“There is none,” Orina said softly. “I should have made her leave. Nyx…Oh, God, Nyx, what have I done?”

My knees gave way, but a solid arm wrapped around me, holding me up, and then I was swung into someone’s arms. Jax’s musk scent tickled my nostrils.

“What are you doing?” Tate demanded. “Put her down.”

“No,” Jax said. “She comes with us.”

The summer breeze kissed my wet skin as he leapt into motion. I wanted to hold on, but my limbs refused to function, and the world began to slip away.

“Hold on, Quinn,” Jax said. “Hold on.”

But I was drifting away with no hands to hold on with.

23

“What were you thinking bringing her here?”

I recognized that deep, rumbling voice, the voice that reminded me of lava.

“She’ll die if we don’t help,” Jax said.

“Then she dies.”

My breath came shallow and fast, and my vision was still dark. Had I gone blind? I was dying, so where was the fear? Was this the toxin at work? Had it numbed my emotions so the only thing I could focus on was the sizzling heat in my blood?

“She saved the cold-one killer,” Jax said. “She took a hit. She was brave.”

“She brought them here.”

“Not intentionally. She has the potential of a warrior and we have the ability to save her.”

They could save me? Hope flickered to life in my chest. I guess not all emotion was dead.

“Enamoured, Jax?” Bryce asked. “Maybe you’ve been in human skin for too long.”

Silence followed, thick and pregnant with expectation. “You gave me this task. To remain in human skin, to learn about them, to be one of them. You ordered it, and so I obeyed. Maybe humanity has rubbed off on me, but this isn’t about that. This is about right and wrong. About the True Way. We don’t allow innocents to die if we can save them.”

“True Way is for our people.” I recognized this voice as Lox. “She isn’t one of us.”

“Then we take a vote,” Jax said. “Those in favor of saving an innocent life say aye.”

The world around me was silent.

Hope withered and died, and longing filled my breast. I wished I could see the sky one last time. To watch it as I slipped away.

A rumble filled the air, soft at first and then louder, rippling across my skin, bringing the scent of the forest to me, sharp, vibrant, sweet, and filled with life. Were they saying aye? Were they in favor?

“Unanimous,” Bryce said flatly. “We do this. One won’t suffice. Toxin has spread too far. We will need three. I will take the groin. Jax, neck. Emmit, wrist.”

Heat kissed my skin and several presences hovered over me. What was happening? What were they about to do? The desire to live warred with a frisson of fear. I guess my emotions were coming back online fully. A soft mewling filled the air and a hand smoothed across my brow.

“It’s okay, Quinn.” Jax’s voice deepened around my name. “It’s going to be okay.” He sounded gruffer, almost garbled, as if his mouth was full.

Someone grasped my wrist as Jax tipped my head to one side to expose the column of my neck. Calloused fingers skimmed across the skin above my waistband, hooked into the elastic, and tugged. I tensed, wanting to protest, but all that emerged was a whimper.

"It's okay." Jax’s breath kissed my neck. “We’re trying to help you. We need to access pulse points to draw out the toxin.”

My slacks were pulled off. Cool air kissed my naked skin and powerful hands grasped my thighs, branding me with a different heat.

Bryce.

Bryce was at my groin. The sizzle in my veins notched up to a burn as he drew my legs apart with sensual promise. Stubble grazed the delicate skin of my inner thigh, and warm breath kissed my intimate place. A low moan snagged in my throat.

“Now.” Bryce’s command vibrated against me.

Knives sliced into me, tearing into my neck, wrist, and groin.

Pain.

I was immobile, unable to writhe, twist, or fight against the inferno that raged through me from three points of contact. Lips latched onto my skin, drawing my life out of my veins, sucking in deep tugs, rough tongues lapping to catch any errant drops of crimson.

This was hunger. This was feeding.

They were feeding on me and my mind was ablaze, my screams whispery-weak sounds that barely made it out of my throat. There was a firestorm in my blood, tearing at me, ripping me to shreds.

I was dying.

They were killing me.

Hot tears welled and spilled down the sides of my face.

Stop. Make it stop.

Long seconds passed and then the scorching heat began to ebb, dropping to a sizzle before vanishing completely. The agony, the burn, was gone, and there was nothing but the sensual tugging of three mouths on my body.

A new sensation rippled through me now, spreading from my neck and wrist to my chest. My breasts swelled, nipples tightening to desperate, aching peaks. It radiated from Bryce’s mouth at my groin to my sex in throbbing wet waves.

The moan trapped in my throat broke free, and my hips left the ground, tilting as if begging for more. Bryce gripped me tight, pinning me to him as he suckled harder.

Jax lapped at my neck, his tugs slow and drawn out, as if savoring a fine wine. My head spun. I was drowning, but I managed to bring my hand up and sink my fingers into Jax’s silken hair, hugging him to me. Emmit’s grip on my arm tightened and I curled my fingers in to graze his stubbled jaw.

My mind floated as my body undulated with desire, tightening and aching as it spiraled toward release. I needed it. Wanted it. The fact that I was on a forest floor being fed on by three Faoladh didn’t matter. My body didn’t care, too intent on chasing the fucking rainbow.

The dark veil on my vision dropped to reveal an ochre sky above a dark canopy of trees. I could see, but I no longer needed to; all I needed was an orgasm. I needed it like I needed to breathe.

The world rumbled around me, a buzz of approval, a hum that vibrated the earth and seeped into my skin. I was there. I was…Oh, God. I came with a primal cry, vision going black, breath catching painfully as my muscles contracted and squeezed around something that wasn’t there.

My pants filled the silence, and if not for the mouths on me I’d have thought I was alone, but they were here, all around me, experiencing this with me. This wonderful, awesome fucking thing…

The heat retreated from my groin and a low, rattling growl skimmed up my belly. Jax and Emmit pulled away, tearing a whimper of disappointment from my throat.

“More…” Was that my plea?

Jax’s face appeared above me, his blue eyes dark and hooded, his mouth stained with my blood. He licked his lips. “Any more will kill you.”

Another deep rattle had Jax retreating. A weight settled on my body and Bryce’s lavender eyes bore into me. His irises shimmered with silver flecks, and the indigo outer rim contracted and then retracted around them like a steady heartbeat. His skin seemed to glow where tiny motes of iridescent dust clung to his face. I reached up and ran my fingers down his cheek.

His eyes flinched and tensed, shoulders and arms flexing.

“She’s intoxicated,” Jax said.

“She can’t be,” Bryce said. “It shouldn’t have this effect on her.”

God, he was so pretty.

Bryce bared his teeth.

Jax snorted. “She’s definitely intoxicated if she thinks you’re pretty.”

A frown crossed Bryce’s face, and his gaze raked over me. I reached up to run my fingers across the furrows in his brow, wanting to make the frown melt.

Bryce jerked away from my touch, then sat back on his haunches, looking down at me.

His chest was bare, muscled perfection with abs I wanted to take my tongue on a trip down. All the way down to V town. A giggle bubbled out of me.

“What is she saying?” Bryce looked equal parts annoyed and confused.

Jax cleared his throat. “I’m not sure.”

Low rattles and murmurs rose up around us and Bryce’s jaw ticked. “Get her out of here. Take her home. Make sure she doesn’t see.”

He stood and walked away. I turned my head to watch him, but Jax gently gripped my jaw and nudged me to face him.

“Close your eyes,” he said.

“Why?”

“Because I said so.”

Sounded reasonable, and I was kinda sleepy.

I allowed my heavy lids to droop. He scooped me up and stood, cradling me to his chest. He was taut, warm, and smelled like pastry. My head fell back, and my eyes fluttered open. What was that? That thing on a plinth. Glowing symbols, and the light…Where was that light coming from? Twisted trees. Odd colors. This wasn’t the forest.

But we were on the move, and my head was too heavy and my body too tired to look, or see, or think any more.

24

JAX

She’s soft and warm in my arms as I carry her into the mansion. I slip through the patio doors and up the stairs. Sensing the others’ presence in the kitchen, I falter. I’ve done my part and brought her home. I should leave her to them, but I find myself heading up the stairs with her.

My nose carries me to her room. The drapes are open and moonlight spills across her rumpled, unmade bed. I’m not sure why that makes me pause. The messiness is a clue, an insight that evokes a strange tugging inside me. I stand over it, reluctant to set her down.

She feels right in my arms, as if she belongs.

I shrug off the thought that has no place in my mind, lay her down, and make to step back, but her fingers grip my bicep, stalling me. She moans softly, drawing my attention to her lips. Plump and soft, I know how they taste and how they fit with mine. My mouth goes dry as a strange warmth blooms inside me. It’s not carnal desire. It’s something…else. Something…human. I don’t understand it, and I don’t know why I reach out and smooth her hair back. I’m not sure why my fingers linger or why I lean in and press my lips to her temple. But I do these strange things before gently extricating myself from her grip and backing away.

My pulse beats fast beneath my skin. Fuck, maybe Lox is right. Maybe I have been in my human skin too long, because these thoughts and emotions aren’t one with my true nature. We don’t feel and experience the world in the same way that humans do. We claim and rut and possess, yet what I feel for Quinn isn’t primal. It’s inexplicably human.

I can’t allow it to fester. I can’t risk losing my connection to my true self. I focus on the memory of her blood in my mouth, of it coursing down my throat. It reconnects me to my true self. Once the toxin was gone, the taste was like nothing I’d ever experienced. If Bryce hadn’t ordered us to stop, we would have drained her.

I can still drain her if I want. I can climb back onto that bed and take what I crave.

I back away and stride out of the room. By the time I get to the lower floor, a calm has settled over me. The human emotions are gone.

Time to inform the others that Quinn is home and alive.

QUINN

Consciousness came in increments. I registered the soft mattress and the smell of fresh linen first. My senses picked up that I wasn’t alone. The voices confirmed it.

“You can see the marks,” Tate said. “They fed on her. They fucking—”

“Saved her life,” Orina said. “They obviously drew out the toxin. I didn’t even know that could be done.”

“I don’t care how they did it,” Nyx said. “They saved her. That’s all that matters.”

“Then why won’t she wake up?” Tate asked.

I peeled my eyelids back and stared blurrily up at my friends surrounding my bed. I was home. Jax had delivered me safely to my bed. The memory of being lowered onto the mattress was fuzzy. Had he lain with me? I turned my head and breathed in the scent of Jax’s musk, which evoked the clear olfactory memory of his lips on my temple.

He’d kissed me.

“She’s awake.” Tate crouched by the bed and took my hand. “Quinn, can you hear me?”

Flashback to a childhood favorite, and I couldn’t resist. “I…”

“What?” Tate leaned in, his expression earnest.

“I had a dream, and you were there.” I looked to Nyx. “And you.” My gaze went to Orina. “And you, too.”

Tate looked at me in confusion.

I gave him a small smile. “Aunty Em?”

Nyx snorted. “Fucking bitch is gonna be fine.”

Tate’s throat bobbed. “I thought I lost you.”

“I’m okay. Just tired.”

“They took a lot of blood,” Orina said. “But I suppose they had to.”

I closed my eyes as the memories of what had happened in the forest came back to me in high-definition color, complete with my moans and…Oh, God, I’d had an orgasm.

“Quinn, what is it?” Tate asked. “You’re flushed. Are you in pain?”

“I’m fine. I… I just need to sleep it off.” Like hell was I telling him what had happened.

“You need to eat,” Orina said. “Steak, medium rare.” She laid a hand on Tate’s shoulder. “Could you?”

Tate pressed his lips to my temple in a soft kiss, then stood. “I’ll bring up a tray.”

He left and Orina perched by my hip on the edge of my mattress while Nyx pushed the door closed.

They exchanged glances before fixing their attention on me.

Now I was nervous. “What?”

“Did anything else happen?” Orina said.

“Anything you didn’t want…” Nyx added.

Wait… “No. God no. They just fed, and I…” I covered my face with the duvet. “Once the pain went away, the whole sucking stuff had an unexpected effect on my body.” My voice was muffled.

“Like what?” Orina asked.

Nyx let out a low whistle. “Oh boy. You didn’t…”

“I did.” I dropped the duvet. “I can’t face them ever again. I mean they were all there. They saw it. Heard me. Urgh. Kill me now.”

“No. You can’t help how you reacted,” Nyx said. “You weren’t to know, and they probably expected it anyway. Forget it.”

She was right. This probably happened to all the women they sucked on. I tried to sit up but the skin on my abdomen pinched and tightened. I shoved the duvet down and pulled up my shirt to reveal dry, flaky skin.

“Urgh, what the fuck?”

“Shit.” Orina leaned in to examine the area.

“Effects of the toxin?” Nyx suggested.

“Maybe.” Orina didn’t sound too sure.

“Does it hurt?” Nyx asked.

“No, just feels a little itchy.” I pulled my top back down. “Small price to pay, really. They saved me.”

“They did,” Orina said. Once again, the two women exchanged glances. But it was Nyx who spoke.

“Are you sure you want to go through with your mission?”

The artifact… Oh, shit. The Faoladh had saved my life when they hadn’t needed to. Could I steal from them? If I didn’t, then where would that leave me? Headed back to my pack with my metaphorical tail between my legs to admit I wasn’t good enough? To watch Ward mate with another Lycan? Watch him happy while I continued to do shitty enforcement jobs?

I couldn’t walk away from this.

“I have to do it.” I looked from Nyx to Orina. “Swiftwood needs this barrier. We need the protection more than Hawthorne. Hawthorne has the Faoladh to keep them safe; can you imagine another pack going up against them? I doubt they would. They don’t need this artifact, but we do.”

I wasn’t sure who I was trying to convince, them or myself.

“If Swiftwood is what you want, then…” Nyx licked her lips. “Then we best get to work.”

MY PHONE RANG and I answered on autopilot, voice thick with sleep. “Hello?”

“Quinn?”

“Who is this?”

“Quinn, it’s Ward.” He sounded put out. “What, don’t recognize my voice now?”

I hadn’t. For the first time in forever, I hadn’t. “Sorry, I was sleeping. What time is it?”

“Almost seven in the morning.”

Annoyance bit at me. What the fuck was he calling so early for? “What is it?”

“I just wanted to check in. See how you were getting on.”

Ah, Ronuld must have asked him to call. “Fine. I got it under control.”

“So any idea when you’ll…be back.”

I could have told him the plan, but for some reason I didn’t want to. “Soon.”

“Okay…It’s just, Quinn…I miss you.”

I waited for the ache in my chest and the hot pressure behind my eyes, but nothing happened.

He sighed. “Bring it home, Quinn, and we can be together. Everything can go back to the way it was.”

There was a knock at my door. “Quinn, you awake?” Nyx called out.

“I got to go, Ward. I’ll call when I have news.” I hung up. “Come in.”

Nyx popped her head around the door. “I thought I heard you.”

“Phone call.”

“Anyone interesting?” she asked with a cheeky grin.

“No. No one.”

And the fucked-up thing was…I think I meant it.

NYX SAT cross-legged on the floor, eyes closed, expression serene. The morning sun picked up the red highlights in her dark hair so it looked like flames were hidden within. Orina and I hovered in the lounge doorway, both clutching mugs of coffee.

Nyx had refused the caffeine, wanting to be clear-headed for her little trip into pack territory.

I couldn’t believe that only yesterday I’d been pumped full of toxin and on the verge of death.

Today my limbs felt stronger, but also lighter. I’d taken the longest shower, reveling in the patter of water against my skin, submerging myself beneath the spray. The shower seemed to have washed away the weird, dry, flaky skin on my abdomen, which was good. The sea air in my lungs felt even better, and the doubts from yesterday were gone.

It was time to get this done and go home. To claim my place at the head of my pack and gain the respect I’d been denied.

Orina tapped my arm and jerked her head in a come-on gesture. We padded down the hall into the kitchen where Tate was seated at the island with a book open in front of him, his face set in concentration as he read. The kitchen was spotless, but none of us had cleaned it.

Our little fae houseguest had totally come through. Maybe having him or her around wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

“Anything new?” Orina asked Tate.

“Nothing more,” he mumbled. “The artifact is an energy source. A barrier just like Ronuld said.”

I exhaled in relief. A part of me worried that I was taking something vital to this town, that Ronuld had neglected to tell me something, but Tate had spent the night combing the book about the Faoladh and the other texts on the town. The barrier was mentioned a few times in several texts, but the artifact was only mentioned in the slender tome that was written in the strange language Tate could only partially decipher.

An object of power that could provide protection.

That’s what it said.

And soon that object would be mine. “How long do you think it will take?”

Orina shrugged. “I mean, what you told her about the plinth and the twisted weird trees gives her something to look for.”

Nyx was in a rodent’s head. She’d said as much when she’d connected to it, then she’d gone silent. She’d been silent for over an hour and, yeah, a part of me was worried.

“You don’t think it can hurt her, do you? Being in a rodent’s head?”

“I don’t know. I mean, she says she’s been experimenting with this ability for a few months, and you know Nyx and getting shit right.”

Yeah, Nyx believed if something was worth doing, it was worth doing well.

Tate closed the book and rubbed his face. “I need coffee.”

He needed a shave and a hairbrush. “And sleep.” I smiled softly at him. “Want me to tuck you into bed?”

“No, but you can make coffee.”

I poured him a cup and he took it, glugging it and then wincing because it was hot. He set the mug down and studied the counter intently. I knew that look. He was debating whether to say something that he thought might annoy me.

“Just say it, Tate.”

“I don’t like this, Quinn. I still think we should leave.”

“I know. But I can’t. Not without what we came for.”

“It’s too dangerous, especially as none of us can be there with you.”

We’d been over this already. “I can do this.”

He shook his head in despair. “Only you would decide to throw yourself into danger the day before your birthday.”

Shit.

“Wait, what?” Orina stared at me, wide-eyed. “Fuck, tomorrow?”

“It would seem so. But this is good. We’ll be far from here, back in the city. We can celebrate.”

Tate sighed. “How long does this masking agent last?” he asked Orina.

“A couple of hours. And it takes a few minutes to work. Don’t take it until you’re ready to—”

“I found it.” Nyx leaned against the doorframe.

She was paler than usual, her eyes pure black orbs, no whites. She blinked and they returned to normal.

“What did you find?” Orina asked.

“You said Jax drove through a hedge. I found the spot. The foliage is a mirage. There’s a narrow gap in it, an entrance to the grounds. There’s some kind of ward around the pack house. I think it alerts them to new arrivals on their land. Obviously, rodents don’t count, but I sensed it.”

The alarm wouldn’t be a problem. “I’ll be fine. Selene invited me to come any time and I can use it as an excuse for why I’m there.”

“A mile from the pack house the forest changes,” Nyx continued. “It smells and feels different.” She crossed the kitchen to the sink, poured a glass of water, and glugged it down. “I found the plinth. It’s northeast of the house. There was a dead tree with a huge wide trunk and then the forest was different.”

“That’s not much to go on,” Tate said. “What if she gets lost?”

“I won’t. I’m a Lycan, Tate. I can find my way around a forest.”

“What if the masking agent runs out early?”

Nyx and Orina used the masking tincture sparingly due to the potential for side effects. Nausea, vomiting, diarrhea…yeah, you never knew when your body would rebel against it.

This was messing with him. I could sense his anxiety, which was disconcerting because Tate rarely, if ever, got anxious.

I gave Orina and Nyx a pointed look, one that said, can I have a minute, please.

“I need to get some air.” Nyx headed for the door.

“I’ll come with.” Orina followed her out of the room, leaving me alone with Tate.

I took the seat opposite him. “Tate…”

He held up his hand. “Nothing you say can make this feel okay.”

“I know. But I have to—”

“No. You don’t.” His head snapped up, brows drawn in a frown. “You don’t need to prove yourself to anyone. Stop trying to be someone you’re not. Stop striving for something that deep down you don’t even want.”

There was passion in his words; ire, too.

An answering anger flared, quick and ready, taking me by surprise. “What the fuck, Tate? Why the hell did you come with me if you feel this way?”

Tate clenched his jaw and met my gaze levelly. “Because it was a chance, Quinn. A chance for you to find yourself away from the pack.”

He didn’t get it. “I don’t want to find a place away from the pack, I want to be a part of the pack. I’ve always wanted that.”

“Have you?” He narrowed his eyes. “A few years ago you wanted to be in business with your friends, out in the city helping the helpless, remember? Remember how excited you were, how…happy.”

My chest grew tight. “I was young.”

“You were free. Then things went sour. You came back to the pack and you’ve spent every moment since trying to fit into a place you don’t belong.”

His words were like a slap. “You think I don’t belong?” My words choked off and my eyes stung with the threat of tears. Anger and hurt mingled to make my chest ache. “Damn, Tate.”

His face fell and his eyes filled with remorse. “Quinn…I’m sick of seeing you try to please them. You deserve better. You are better.”

I put my hands up as if that gesture could ward off his words, his thoughts, the negative vibe he was exuding.

“I thought you knew me, Tate. But it’s obvious you have no clue what I want.”

I headed for the door.

“What we want isn’t always what we need, Quinn. What we want isn’t always best for us.”

But I was done listening. I had an artifact to steal.

25

I dressed casually in leggings, sneakers, and a tunic top cinched at the waist with one of those funky rope belts. I needed to look like I was on a social visit, not there to go jogging through the forest. I did make sure to pull my hair up, though, to minimize snag when I did dive into the forest to go scoping.

Nyx and Orina drove me to the pack house in Pea. It was a cloudy night where the moon played peek-a-boo with the world. The winding road that led to the tall hedge bordering the pack house seemed to stretch forever. Finally, the shrubbery came into view and Nyx slowed the car to a crawl.

The plan was simple.

The ladies would drop me off, then hide out up the road in Pea. We’d tried out the comms, but there’d been way too much static, so we’d opted to do this without them. It meant once I got onto pack land, I’d be alone.

No problem. I had this under control.

I’d go into the pack house on the pretext of a social visit, and when it was time to leave, I’d down the tincture, slip into masked mode, head into the forest, grab the artifact, and get back to Pea. Boom. Done. Tate was waiting at the barrier in the Rover, all our shit packed up and ready to go. We’d be the hell out of this town before midnight.

Simple.

So why did I feel sick?

Nerves, that was all. Nothing to do with the fact I was about to steal from deadly lethal apex predators who probably weren’t even from this fucking world, and it was definitely nothing to do with the fact that these same deadly creatures had saved my life.

Jax’s lapis-blue eyes came to mind, followed by Bryce’s intense lavender gaze.

The alpha had wanted to let me die.

But the pack had voted to save me. I didn’t understand why, but there was no denying my gratitude.

Shit. Why was this so stupidly hard all of a sudden?

I closed my eyes, taking even breaths to center myself. My pack came first. It had to.

“We’re here.” Nyx pulled the car to a stop. “Two meters up ahead, babe.”

Orina turned in her seat to look at me. “Are you okay?”

I nodded quickly and then exhaled. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

I climbed out of the back seat and crossed the road, turning to give them a jaunty wave before hurrying toward the gap in the hedge. The last time I’d come this way I’d been unconscious and carried by Jax, the time before that I’d been barreling down the road on the back of a motorbike, again with Jax. I hadn’t sensed much of anything either time, but this time a definite prickle of power skittered across my skin, indicating magical influence.

Allowing my body to guide me, I picked up the pace and then turned left sharply. The hedge opened up and spat me out onto the neatly clipped lawn. And there it was, the huge pack mansion, sprawled out like a fat, lazy bug bathing under the anemic rays of moonlight that lanced through the clouds.

Yellow light spilled out of the many windows, illuminating the ground around the building and deepening the shadows beyond.

I wasn’t masked yet, so whatever alarm they’d set on the boundary of their land would have gone off and someone would be coming to investigate. That was fine, I had a legitimate reason to be here.

I headed toward the mansion, injecting confidence into my stride. My step didn’t falter even as two hulking figures appeared up ahead, coming from opposite directions but heading toward me.

The clouds chose that moment to part, and I made out Emmit’s stocky, naked form. Shit, don’t stare at his tackle. I focused on his angry face.

Jax, thank goodness, was clothed.

I raised a hand in greeting, affecting casual and making sure to regulate my pulse to match. They’d smell and hear fear, and fear screamed prey. I had a little confidence that Jax might be able to resist, but none when it came to the naked Emmit.

Do not look at his crotch. “Hey, guys.”

“What are you doing here?” Jax demanded.

He sounded annoyed, and for some reason that rankled.

I pressed a hand to my chest in mock shock. “You wound me. I thought you’d be happy to see me.”

“Not invited here,” Emmit growled.

His dark eyes roved over me with a strange heat that made my stomach clench low down, and despite my determination not to, I couldn’t help but drop my gaze to the V that acted like an arrow to an impressive prize.

His chest rattled in warning and in the next moment he was right in front of me—his dark-hair-speckled chest inches from my nose, his menacing aura biting at my skin.

My breath exploded from my lips and the Lycan within reacted instinctively by tucking in my chin, which put my line of sight directly at his crotch, and shit, I needed to look away.

His fingers curled around my wrist, and he lifted my hand to his mouth. My head jerked up as his warm, wet tongue laved the scabbed area where he’d bitten me. His obsidian gaze locked on mine, and his flat tongue flicked out to sweep over the wound once more. Heat lanced through me and my breath hitched as tingles spread across my skin. He held my gaze captive with the cool intensity for a moment longer and then dropped my hand.

“Emmit…” There was warning in Jax’s tone.

Emmit stepped away from me, and I resisted the urge to sag in relief.

“Selene said I could come over whenever.” My tone was even and calm even though my insides were quaking.

Emmit looked to Jax, who sighed and nodded. “She extended an open invitation.”

“Lox won’t be happy,” Emmit said.

“No.”

Emmit back away, turned, and strode toward the forest.

Jax gently took my hand, turning it wrist up. “Interesting.”

I followed his gaze to find the bite wound completely gone.

JAX WALKED me to the mansion but stopped at the steps. “Why are you here, Quinn?”

A lie might be detected, so I needed to be as truthful as possible. “I wanted to thank you for saving my life. Seeing Selene seemed like a good excuse.”

He studied me in silent reflection for a long beat. “You’re not safe here, Quinn.”

My pulse jumped, recognizing the truth in that statement. “Why not?”

“We’ve tasted your blood. Sweet and heady, even with the toxin coursing through it.” He stepped closer. “I’m not sure how Bryce stopped when he claimed blood price. Last night was hard enough.” He took another step, forcing me to tip my chin up to look at his face. “Your scent teases our hunger.” He leaned in, his lips inches from mine. “We’re ravenous, Quinn, and you don’t want to be the one to satiate that hunger. You won’t survive it.”

A shiver ran up my spine and fear raked at my scalp. This wasn’t about sex, this was something darker, dangerous. He was looking at me as if I were a juicy prime rib lathered in barbeque sauce, like he wanted to … eat me.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “What are you?”

“Nothing you’ll ever understand.” He walked off. “Go see Selene, then go home. Don’t come back here, Quinn. It isn’t safe for you.”

I didn’t understand. “Emmit just healed me.”

He didn’t look back. “Emmit prefers his prey unmarred.”

Fuck.

SELENE OPENED the door as soon as I reached the porch, almost as if she’d been waiting for me. She’d probably been watching us through the window. There was history between her and Jax, I could feel it in my bones, but I wasn’t here to pry. I was here for one reason only and then I’d be gone, and this place would be a blip on my radar.

The fae was dressed in cream leggings and a huge guy-sized navy sweatshirt that came to her knees. The sleeves were rolled up, but even then, only her fingers poked out. Was this Lox’s sweatshirt? Her hair was piled on top of her head in a dark messy bun that was almost a twin to my pink one.

“Quinn, it’s so good to see you.” Her smile was warm and sincere. “I’m so glad you came.”

I plastered a matching smile on my face. “Well, I was in the neighborhood…”

She laughed, a gentle tinkling sound, then stepped aside. “Come in.”

I entered the brightly lit foyer. Dark wood floors littered with toy cars greeted me. A shoe rack overflowing with wellies and sneakers of all sizes, some tiny, sat to my left.

Children.

There were children here.

The thought was shocking. Surprising.

“Ignore the mess and watch out for Legos.” Selene leaned in and widened her eyes. “It’s the undefeated beast in this house.”

Feminine, musical voices interspersed with sweet childlike ones drifted into the foyer.

“Come on.” Selene headed off toward the sound. “Let me introduce you to some of the others.”

I followed, careful not to step on any toys strewn across the floor. She led me down a corridor with magnolia walls lined with framed paintings obviously done by children.

“You like our art wall?” Selene asked.

“It’s…impressive.”

She chuckled. “Belle’s idea. She’s the artist in the house.”

We stepped through an arch into a large lounge dotted with cozy leather sofas and colorful rugs. A massive TV covered one wall and bookcases lined another, and there were people, so many people. Several women and more than a few children, ages ranging from two to early teens, sat about, reading or sipping from mugs and in some cases sippy cups. They were all dressed in pajamas, and the sweet aroma that indicated fae was almost overpowering. Were all these women fae?

One had hair so white it was almost silver. One’s short spiky hair was a deep blue and another’s skin was tinged green and seemed to glow, but every child in the room was male.

They all stopped what they were doing to look at me with open curiosity.

One of the teeny ones pulled his mouth off his sippy cup and pointed. “Pink!” He grinned proudly.

“Yes, Dalton, well done.” The blue-haired woman ran a hand over his tufty hair.

“Everyone, this is Quinn. Quinn, this is everyone,” Selene announced. “We’re in the middle of bedtime hustle right now, but I’m sure you can meet everyone properly another time.”

Several women raised their hands in greeting and smiled.

“Come on.” Selene steered me away from the room. “How about some tea?”

We continued down the corridor into a spacious, homey kitchen with cottage-style décor. Two dining tables sat in the center and a couple of highchairs were pushed up against the wall.

Canary yellows and deep oranges gave the room a warm look, and the dark wood tables completed the picture, but just like the lounge and the foyer the kitchen was cluttered with plates and cups piled on the sideboard. I spotted a dishwasher hard at work. With this many people, I was surprised they didn’t have two of those.

“Take a seat,” Selene said. She crossed the room and clicked on the kettle. “Milk? Sugar?”

“Both please, two sugars.” I parked my butt, mind reeling. This was a home. An actual home.

“I don’t have any,” Selene said.

“Sugar?”

She chuckled. “No. Children. Not yet.”

“You’re all mated to the guys in the pack?”

“Yes. We live here but they mostly stay in the forest.” She set a mug down before me and took the chair opposite with a glass of water. “So why are you here, really?” She watched me shrewdly. “To see Jax?”

I’d need to be careful here. “Curiosity and…gratitude. They saved my life.”

“Mmm, I heard.” She sipped her water with an arched brow.

My cheeks heated. “Yeah? What exactly did you hear?”

“You took the pain…well.”

Oh, fuck. I cleared my throat. “Um…Yeah, well. It was unexpected.”

“It was.” She was watching me almost warily now. “I know I invited you to come here the other day, and I’m glad you took me up on the offer, but I think it’s best if you stay away.”

Jax had said the same thing. “I don’t understand. Why?”

“You don’t need to understand. This isn’t your world. It can’t be, and that’s not a bad thing. You’re free. Stay that way. Don’t get caught up in…this.”

“What is this?”

Her smile was sad. “A duty. A chore. At least that’s how it feels sometimes.”

Wait, did she mean being mated was a chore or having babies. Wait. I’d heard of some packs that enforced breeding to increase pack size. “Are you forced to breed?”

She shook her head. “It’s not like that. We value every precious moment with our young.” She looked to the window and the dark world outside. “Their fathers take over at puberty, you know. Taking them into the forest to test their mettle. Some survive what is required of them and others don’t.”

“Wait, what do you mean?”

She blinked sharply and looked at me as if just remembering I was there. “Go home, Quinn. Stay out of pack affairs and live your life. Jax may seem charming and fun, but it’s a façade. He’s dangerous. They all are, and if you allow yourself to get entangled in their affairs, you’ll never get out.”

I wanted to know more, to ask more questions, but I shut it down. It didn’t matter. I wasn’t here to stay.

I glugged my tea, then gave her a close-lipped smile. “Thanks for the tea and the advice.” I pushed back my chair. “I best get going, but could I use your restroom before I leave?”

She nodded. “Sure.”

I followed her out of the kitchen and back up the corridor, past the lounge where the sound of laughter drifted out to meet us, and into the foyer.

“There you go.” Selene pointed to a door set under the stairs.

“Selene!” someone called.

She sighed. “Coming.”

Good. “I’ll see myself out.”

“It was nice meeting you, Quinn…really it was.” She looked almost sad. “Goodbye.”

She walked off as I made to duck into the small washroom. I closed the door, pulled the vial of tincture from my pocket, and downed the bitter contents. Seconds passed and then a tingle ran over me.

The stuff was working. Now to put it into action.

It was time to head into the forest of beasts.

26

NYX

I don’t like this. I don’t like that we can’t communicate with Quinn. “How long has it been now?”

“Almost an hour.” Orina keeps her eyes on the rearview mirror.

“Is an hour enough for chit-chat?”

“Maybe the way you do it.”

I give her a mock glare. “What do you mean? I can chit-chat.”

“With your fists maybe.” Orina smiles. “But that’s cool. Quinn’s always been the sociable one.”

It’s almost ten p.m. “I don’t like this, Orina. I don’t like that we can’t get in touch with her.”

“I know.”

“We get back to the city and we celebrate. A proper reunion and birthday party.” Focusing on a reward always helps me get through shitty times.

“I hate that she’s going back, though.” Orina drums her fingers on the dash. “I wish she wouldn’t.”

“Yeah, Swiftwood…it’s not good for her. Why the fuck can’t she see it?”

“She’s not ready.” She shoots me a sharp glance. “And you can’t say anything. You heard what happened with Tate.”

Fuck, yeah, we’d heard it all. Snooping is our forte. “He’s right, though.”

“Doesn’t matter to Quinn. Like I said, she’s not ready. We just got her back. Don’t push her away.”

I nod and focus on the side mirror, looking back down the road in hopes of seeing Quinn jogging toward us, artifact in hand, grin on her face.

Although I’m not sure stealing from this pack is a good idea. “What if they come after her.”

“Then they get to go through us and Quinn’s pack. Not to mention whoever Swiftwood decides to build alliances with. Objects of power tend to help you make friends, even if those friends will happily turn foe to gain an advantage.”

I chuckle. “So cynical.”

“Realist, babe.”

“Yeah, I’m with you.”

I spot a fox dart across the road, and my pulse skips a beat. I have an idea. “Orina, I’m going in.”

She shoots me a confused look.

“Fox.”

Comprehension dawns and she nods.

I close my eyes, slip out of my body, and zoom across the road toward the fox.

QUINN

Nyx had said the artifact was northeast of the house. When Jax had taken me into the forest we’d headed southeast, but it was unreasonable to think that there wouldn’t be some kind of guard or watch over the artifact.

The masking agent didn’t render me physically invisible, but it camouflaged my scent, and that was a huge thing, because odor was how Lycans and shifters identified and tracked prey.

Yes, I was prey to the Faoladh. I’d be a fool to think otherwise.

This was their world, a world they’d kept in a bubble, one I was about to burst.

My training meant I was quick and fast, able to cut across the lawn in seconds. I kept low to the ground until I hit the treeline, then moved swiftly from trunk to trunk, my senses alert to predators.

The forest aromas grew stronger, the foliage lusher. The ambient sounds of nature were a pleasant hum around me.

Was I headed in the right direction?

My internal compass said yes, and my primal instincts agreed, picking up on the change in atmosphere. The air was sweeter here. Thicker too. The tree bark seemed to shimmer in the moonlight, moonlight that seemed brighter. Up ahead the trees were darker, twisted and twined with ropes of inky ivy. Yes, I recognized this place.

This was it. It had to be.

I slowed my pace, reaching out with my senses to see if the Faoladh were close by. There was no prickle of awareness, no squirm in my gut to warn me of a predator’s presence. I was alone.

The crack of a branch had my head whipping to the left to spot a fox, frozen mid-stride, watching me.

I exhaled. That was fine. That was okay. Hello, foxy. Now shoo.

The excitement of a mission almost completed bubbled in my stomach as I continued forward.

Up ahead, the plinth glowed softly from the many symbols etched into its surface.

The trees thinned out and I stepped into the clearing, stopping several meters from the structure. There was an object on it. A large black bowl with a handle. It looked like a small cauldron.

Was that it?

Was that the relic?

The air buzzed and vibrated against my skin, and there was no denying the palpable energy emanating from the object.

I approached across the thick carpet of grass until I was a mere foot away from it. My breath quickened with anticipation. I was here. I’d found it. I could take it.

Bring it home, Quinn, and we can be together. Everything can go back to the way it was.

Ward’s words filled my mind and an empty pit opened inside me.

I’m sick of seeing you try to please them. You deserve better. You are better.

Tate’s declaration followed hot on the heels of Ward’s. The emptiness grew, and it hit me—now that the mating bond between Ward and me was severed, I no longer wanted things to go back to the way they’d been. I didn’t want to be his mate and take care of him.

I could still take this artifact home and claim a place on the council. Everyone would have to look up to me. But that wouldn’t mean they’d accepted me. It would simply be a title.

An empty token.

Empty is how I’d felt for too long; except in Hawthorne that emptiness had begun to ebb.

I’d come here telling myself that Swiftwood Pack needed this artifact, that without it the pack would die, but that was a lie. The pack had an alliance with Gravecrown that would protect them from Winterhide.

Truth was, I’d come here for me.

For selfish reasons.

A prickle ran over my skin, but it barely registered because my mind was on fire with admissions.

Tate was right. The pack had never been my home, no matter how much I’d tried to make it so. The only time I felt at home was when I was with Tate.

And he wanted to come with me.

I could start over. Set up an enforcer business like I’d wanted to.

I didn’t need to do this.

The revelation was like a ray of sunshine and the weight I hadn’t even realized was sitting on my shoulders lifted.

I made to take a step back, but a wave of dizziness assaulted me. I grabbed the plinth to steady myself and a roar blasted across the clearing.

Ice erupted in my belly. I spun in time to see a huge beast leaping my way, silver hide gleaming in the moonlight, teeth bared, ready to tear.

I ran, but I didn’t make it far before the weight of the beast hit my back and I was smashed into the ground.

NYX

I slam into my body with a gasp. Orina is leaning over me, her expression fierce, and why does my face hurt?

Did she just slap me?

“Fucking hell, Nyx, what the fuck? You’ve been out for over an hour. It’s almost midnight.”

I blink rapidly as the memories gleaned from my time in the fox’s head settle in my mind. My pulse beats a staccato rhythm in my neck. A warning.

Bad.

Something bad.

Quinn running into the clearing. Standing by the plinth. Grabbing it, and then—

Oh, God.

“They caught her. They caught Quinn.”

QUINN

Pressure at the small of my back pinned me down.

“Thief.” Bryce’s breath heated my nape. “Liar. I should have known.”

There was no point trying to talk my way out of this. “I’m sorry. I was going to take it, but I changed my mind.”

The pressure increased, cutting off my words and sending pain slicing through me.

“Bryce, stop.”

I turned my head to see a pair of familiar jean-clad legs. “Jax…” My voice was a whisper. “Help me.”

He crouched so I could see his face and look into his lapis-blue eyes. “Why, Quinn. Why would you do this? I warned you. I told you to stay away.”

“My pack…the alpha… we needed help. Power to protect us.” I coughed and something wet and warm filled my mouth.

Blood.

I was bleeding. The pressure was killing me. I wanted to explain the revelation to them. The eye-opening realization that I could be free. But my lungs refused to work properly. I couldn’t breathe.

“Stop! Let her go.”

Orina?

I caught their scents a moment later. Shit, they couldn’t be here. “No…” The word was a painful wheeze that ended in a gurgle of blood.

Growls and rattles surrounded us. More Faoladh.

“Shit,” Nyx said.

“Leave,” Bryce ordered. “Or die.”

“We’re not leaving without Quinn. Just let her go and we’ll take her with us. We’ll get out of town and you’ll never have to see us again.”

“Bryce…” Jax said. “Maybe we can—”

Bryce’s rattling growl cut him off. “We follow the True Way. The thief, the liar, the deceiver, must die. The True Way is all we have left. We will not abandon it.”

Nyx’s cry of shock and rage and Orina’s curses were cut off by the rattle and growl of the Faoladh, but from my vantage point, pinned to the ground with Bryce’s humungous paw on my back, I couldn’t see.

For a moment the pressure ebbed. Something rough and dry brushed the side of my face and then Bryce’s breath kissed my ear. “I’m sorry it has to end this way, little Lycan, but I’ll make it quick.”

I was going to die. But there was no fear. No tears. Just a numb resignation of my fate and a deep, aching sadness for leaving my friends behind.

“Don’t…don’t hurt them, please.” My voice was a wet whisper.

He blew out a hot sigh. “You have my word.”

Jax averted his gaze, his mouth turned down.

Bryce’s jaws closed around my nape. He was about to break my neck.

Quick and painless.

I closed my eyes as a ball of heat unfurled in my chest.

Lock onto that.

Focus on that.

It’ll be over soon.

The burn of his fangs sinking into flesh was a distant thing, and my vision blurred with unwanted hot tears.

Do it. Just do it.

A gust of air hit me, bringing a sweet fragrance with it. It filled my head and washed over me in a soothing wave and suddenly the jaws at my nape were gone. The weight on my back was gone. I was flipped onto my front and Bryce stood over me in beast form, his huge head tipped to look down at me, lavender eyes all pupil. Diagonal slits in his wide snout flared as he inhaled.

“Bryce?” Jax sounded confused.

“More lies, little Lycan,” Bryce growled.

My chest hitched with every breath and blood coated the inside of my mouth. I blinked, dislodging tears.

Bryce’s eyes narrowed as if he was wrestling with a decision. “Heal her. Take her home.”

Someone let out a sob.

Nyx or Orina, I wasn’t sure.

“Escort her friends out of town. The human may stay.”

“We’re not leaving her,” Orina said.

Bryce raised his head slowly and turned it toward them. “Leave now and live.”

“Fuck,” Nyx said. “Quinn…”

Agony held me immobile.

“Go,” Jax said. “I give you my word she’ll be safe with me.”

“We’ll go,” Nyx said. “But not now. Once she’s safe at home and healed. Please.”

Bryce’s chest rattled. “You’ll leave before the sun rises.” He padded away, his huge silver body moving with powerful grace. “And don’t try and take her with you. The barrier has been adjusted. She won’t be able to pass through. Not anymore.”

What? What did that mean? Oh, God, I couldn’t think. I couldn’t focus or cry because my chest hurt so bad.

“Quinn, it’s okay.” Jax straddled my hips, then leaned forward so that his torso was inches from mine and his mouth hovered over my bloody one. “It’s going to be okay, but first it’ll hurt like a bitch.”

A laugh threatened, but I staunched it, knowing it would be too painful.

Jax’s lips parted above mine and then he exhaled onto my face. His breath was hot needles piercing my skin, and a breathless scream ripped its way free of my throat despite the crushed state of my ribs.

The needles sliced into me and became blades tearing into my flesh. My mind shattered, unable to handle the agony, and darkness claimed me.

27

NYX

Q uinn looks tiny and frail lying on her bed. She’s so pale she looks bloodless, but her pulse is strong and steady, and her breathing is even and deep.

“She’ll be fine,” Jax says from the doorway.

He looks relaxed, as if his kind torture then heal other supernaturals all the time. Maybe that’s exactly what they do, who knows?

I want to hurt him, except he’s the one who fixed Quinn, and my gut tells me he wasn’t on board with the whole kill Quinn plan, but the fact he stood by ready to let it happen reminds me how much I hate pack culture. The fucked-up hierarchy and the whole you-will-obey shit.

I don’t want this for Quinn, but I’m powerless to free her from it, because the Lycan is a part of her.

“How could you let them do that to her?” Orina demands. “I thought you were different.”

“A common mistake,” Jax drawls. “You need to leave now. The sun will be up in less than an hour.”

“And if we refuse?” Orina lifts her chin in defiance.

She’s ready to fight this, but my instincts tell me to back off…For now, at least. It’s not the time to push.

Jax looks steadily at her. “I can guarantee Quinn’s safety, but I can’t guarantee yours.”

“What changed?”

He looks down at Quinn. “Everything.”

“I’m not leaving her,” Orina says again. “I only just got her back.”

“You aided her in her mission to steal from us,” Jax says. “Bryce gave Quinn his word that he wouldn’t hurt you, but that doesn’t mean he won’t order the others to tear you to shreds.”

“Go.” Tate speaks for the first time. He’s sitting in a chair by Quinn’s bed, dark eyes bright with anger. “If anything happens to you guys, she’ll never forgive herself. You need to go.”

If anything happens to us, there’ll be no one to liberate our friend from this place. Leaving is the right option for now.

But I need to understand. “Why can’t Quinn leave? Why are you holding her here?”

Jax’s smile is wry. “We’re not. The barrier is.” He fixes his gaze on me. “Go. When the time is right, you’ll be able to return, but for now you need to leave.”

He has no fucking idea.

Orina opens her mouth to argue, but I grab her hand and squeeze in warning. Her gaze flies up to meet mine and she reads me like she always does.

“Okay.” She allows her shoulders to deflate. “We go.” She crosses the room and crouches by Quinn’s bed. “I love you, babe. I’ll see you soon. I promise.”

We gather our shit and leave the mansion. The sky is predawn gray, and as we cross the barrier out of Hawthorne, it hits me that I never got to wish Quinn a happy birthday.

But we’ll be back. I’m planning on it.

QUINN

I woke up to a dry throat. Thirsty.

The room was dark. Someone had drawn the blackout drapes, but bright light lanced through a gap, telling me it was at least midday. I wasn’t alone in bed. Tate lay on his side beside me, fast asleep, glasses askew, breath even and soft.

Why was he in bed with me?

The memories of what had happened in the forest hit me hard, and I bit back a gasp as they played through my mind like a fucked-up slideshow.

I’d almost died.

But Bryce had let me go. Told my friends to leave.…I could sense their absence.

Confusion clouded my mind. What was happening here? Why had Bryce let me go? Why had he said I couldn’t leave town?

My throat ached, begging for water.

Shit… I needed to get up.

I slipped from the bed and padded out of the room. I expected to feel achy, weak, and sore, but aside from the thirst I felt clear-headed and strong.

Jax had healed me with his hot needle breath.

The kitchen was bathed in sunlight and a huge jug of icy water sat on the island, complete with a glass.

This had to be the brownie’s work. How had it known I was thirsty?

Fuck it. I poured and drank three glasses, and as the arid feeling finally ebbed, a tiny face appeared above the island. I jumped back, almost dropping the glass.

“No alarm, mistress. Bea won’t harm thee.” The brownie had a sweet oval face with huge amber eyes, long, thick lashes, and a button nose. “No alarm, mistress.”

The brownie climbed onto a stool opposite me.

She’d hidden for days, so, “Why are you showing yourself now?”

“Because we are bound now, mistress. Bound until freed.” She held out her slender arm and my gaze zeroed in on a symbol tattooed onto her skin. “I will serve you, mistress.” Her gaze slid to my left hand.

My pulse skipped, something deep down in me recognizing a change and sensing the difference.

I set my glass down and raised my left hand, turning it wrist up to reveal the blue symbol pressed into my skin as if it belonged there, as if it had always been there.

I’d seen this before. I’d seen it on the fae women at the café.

This was the mark of the Calling.

I’d been marked.

“What. The. Fuck.”

The story continues in A Shifter’s Trial.

OTHER BOOKS BY DEBBIE CASSIDY

The Gatekeeper Chronicles

Marked by Sin

Hunted by Sin

Claimed by Sin

The Witch Blood Chronicles

(Spin-off to the Gatekeeper Chronicles)

Binding Magick

Defying Magick

Embracing Magick

Unleashing Magick

The Fearless Destiny Series

Beyond Everlight

Into Evernight

Under Twilight

The Chronicles of Midnight

Protector of Midnight

Champion of Midnight

Secrets of Midnight

Shades of Midnight

Savior of Midnight

Chronicles of Arcana

City of Demons

City of the Lost

City of Everdark

City of War

For the Blood

For the Blood

For the Power

For the Reign

For the Hunt (novella)

Heart of Darkness

Captive of Darkness

Bane of Winter

Fate’s Destiny

Deadworld

Deadworld

Dead City

Dead Sea

Dead End

The Nightwatch Academy

Shadow Caster

Shadow Weaver

Shadow Warrior

Shadow Master

The Nightwatch Series

Ghost of a Chance

Give up the Ghost

Ghost at the Feast

Lay the Ghost

Deadside Reapers Series

Reaper Unexpected

Reaper Uninvited

Reaper Untamed

Reaper Unveiled

Reaper Undone

Reaper Unhinged

Reaper Unleashed

The Thirteenth Sign

Witch Unexpected

Witch Undecided

Witch Untold

The Iron Fae Series

Taste My Wrath

Feel My Power

Dragon Guard Series

Dragon Trial

Dragon Rising

Dragon Ashes

Survivor’s Heart (Planet Athion World)

Novellas

Rogue

Rebel

Survivor

Standalone Novellas

Blood Blade

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Debbie Cassidy lives in England, Bedfordshire, with her three kids and very supportive husband. Coffee and chocolate biscuits are her writing fuels of choice, and she is still working on getting that perfect tower of solitude built in her back garden. Obsessed with building new worlds and reading about them, she spends her spare time daydreaming and conversing with the characters in her head – in a totally non-psychotic way of course. She writes Urban Fantasy Romance, Paranormal Reverse Harem Romance and Sci Fi Romance.

Stay in touch with Debbie Cassidy.

Join her Newsletter

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Table of Contents

Keep in touch with Debbie

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Other books by Debbie Cassidy

About the Author