“I want you to make sure the girl doesn’t cause any trouble for us,” he says to me. “Just because the elders insisted she go,” the tone of his voice makes it clear what he thinks about that, “doesn’t mean that you have to let it impede your investigation. Leave her behind if you have to—just make sure it seems accidental.”
“Elder Cahan seemed certain we’ll need a member of Pack Onyx to figure out where the madness came from,” I point out, “and she’s the only member.”
“Cahan is a fool with his nose too deep in the books. He actually suggested that I send a contingency of our best warriors to Pack Amethyst to investigate. As if I would risk them by letting them get near the source of the curse.”
That suggests that he’s willing to risk me, something I don’t point out, since I already knew as much. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure that I find out what’s going on as quickly as possible. Protecting our people—protecting our pack—is my priority.”
“See that you do.” He flicks his eyes up to me, the ice blue of his gaze as familiar as the mirror, making me question as alwayswhether I come off just as cold and unfeeling. “If you don’t prove yourself soon, then I’ll have to find a new heir to be Pack Jade alpha after I step down. I can’t have someone weak-willed and incapable follow in my footsteps. I won’t allow it.”
I nod sharply, swallowing the bitter words that rise in my throat in defense of myself. I’ve done nothing but follow his orders, and in his footsteps, for as long as I can remember. But the only thing he remembers are the mistakes and the missteps—and he makes sure that I pay for them every day of my life.
If he knew the half of it, he’d probably declare that I’m no longer his son.
“Anything else?” I ask him, shoving off the fridge and glancing at the clock. “I have to go soon to meet Aurora.”
“Just that there are ways to get a new mate. One more worthy to stand at a future alpha’s side,” he says, tossing a bit of gristle into the trash can at his side. “As always, though, I have to wonder ifyou’reworthy as well.”
I don’t stick around to hear more. Murmuring some empty words to him, I look up at my mother’s portrait where it hangs over the fireplace, and wordlessly say goodbye to the only parent who ever really made me feel loved. All I have of her is the letters she wrote to me before I was even born, and those have more warmth in them than I’ve known from my family most of my life.
Do this. Do that. Be better, don’t overshadow him. But don’t be less than him either—make him look good, and remember, you’re the reason his mate is dead.
I strip my clothes off and shift into my wolf form before I head out, racing to the pack borders. My wolf is cagey and on edge, eager to see his mate again, so I take the long way. The more energy I drain from him, the better.
It isn’t until I’m at the edge of the woods that he calms down, and I’m running late. So I look for a car, knowing Aurora will likely need to use one to keep up with me—and we’ll be shit outof luck anytime we need to head to a pack’s lands off the main roads—but I don’t see any. Shifting near the edge of the woods, I undo my pack, pull out my first spare change of clothes, and shimmy into them.
Just as I’m about to call her, I turn toward my left and—there.A stabbing pain, just between my shoulder and my ribcage, radiating down to my abdomen. Shuddering, I grab onto the tree trunk for support, wondering if it’ll always be this way.
My wolf is whining inside me, anxious and on edge. He shudders beneath the surface of my skin. Taking several deep breaths, I focus on divorcing myself from these inconvenient feelings, letting the calm of still waters wash over me. It’s an old trick I learned when I first got my wolf that helps in these moments. Usually I know it’s worked when I look into the mirror and see a still, emotionless expression looking back at me.
By the time I’ve shoved the feelings down and the pain has faded to a dull ache, the sun has dipped below the horizon. Walking toward the road, and the source of the pain, I squint until I realize what I’d been missing: sitting near the thick stone column that passes for a mile marker, her arms crossed over her chest and a pissed-off expression on her face, is none other than Aurora Blackburn herself.
Near her is a motorcycle, slick and shiny with a high seat and large tires. It looks like the kind of bike that’s been outfitted for rough riding—including off-roading if necessary. There’s a storage rack with bags strapped to it, and a helmet hanging off one of the handlebars.
“I thought you said we were meeting before sunset, not after,” she says as she rises to her feet in one fluid motion, the remnants of sunlight gilding her hair in rosy hues of orange and gold, making the blonde strands look like firelight. “At this rate, we’ll barely be on the road before we have to make camp.”
The tension that’s radiating from her is so thick it’s palpable. In a way it’s a relief. I prefer this to the version of Aurora I’ve been terrified of for years.
Crying. Begging. Pleading. Weak and incapable of being my mate, her face streaked with tears, her fingers digging into my arm. I was so scared that she’d come to me and beg for me to change my mind that I spent countless nights tossing and turning, composing how I’d respond if she did.
It’s almost a relief that she’s irritated and on edge instead, looking at me like she’s deciding how to rip the flesh from my bones so she can use them as toothpicks. It doesn’t change the pangs in my chest, though.
“We can’t leave during the day because the direction we’re heading is full of human ranchers and hunters, and they’ll be on edge if they see a wolf going past. Better to go at night, when we only have to contend with the coyotes and livestock guardian dogs—they’ll submit to my wolf.”
“And in this fantasy version of our trip, am I riding on your shoulders?” She shoots me a baffled look. “We could’ve set out by now if you weren’t so attached to your wolf. Seriously, it’s like you forget cars even exist.”
I prickle under her words and the weight of this mission, not to mention the pain of the rejected bond. Before I can stop myself, I snap out, “Not like you could understand, since you don’t have a wolf.”
Immediately, I open my mouth to apologize. But she doesn’t give me the chance. “You’re right, I don’t understand. All these weird paths to shifter land so we’re as off the grid as possible. And for what? So you weirdos can shift naked in the middle of the sidewalk and leave your clothes behind.” She rolls her eyes. “If I had my wolf, you wouldn’t catch me just shifting anywhere. I’d have some decency about it.”
Something about her confidence eases my fears that I broke her forever. Defensively, and more than a little embarrassed, I tell her, “We’ll travel during the day tomorrow, and for most of our trip. It’s just this portion that’s better at night—the last time our warriors patrolled this path during the day, they were shot at, and I didn’t want to risk that happening to you.”
“Oh. Well, that makes sense.” She sounds a little chagrined. “Thank you for… thinking of me.”
“It would be inconvenient if you bled out before we get to Pack Onyx lands.” Aurora rolls her eyes and smirks a little at this, much to my relief. “I’m glad you brought transportation.” I motion toward the bike. “I didn’t know you ride now.”
“You don’t know a lot of things about me anymore, Kieran,” she says softly.
The sound of my name in her mouth is a soft ache that spreads through my chest and settles behind my rib cage, just in front of my heart. My wolf howls mournfully, quietly, softly, as if he’s giving up.
