Beneath her skin, deep inside where her wolf curled, the mate bond whirred steadily, an invisible compass pointing toward Sunburst.
Toward Conall.
I’ll find the truth, Stewart, she thought as she reached into her pack for a blanket to wrap around herself.And if you killed my father, I’ll kill you myself.
Mate bond be damned.
CHAPTER 5
NADINE WOKE TO NEARdarkness, the root cellar illuminated only by a thin shaft of light from the ventilation duct.Her body felt wrung out, hollow, but her mind was clear for the first time in days.
She probed the wound cautiously, moving into the light to examine it.
Still angry and raw, but the silver-blue lines had receded.The worst had passed.She would live.
Whether that was victory or just postponement of inevitable defeat remained to be seen.
She ate the last of her rations, washed down with carefully rationed water.Her supplies had dwindled to dangerous levels.
She needed to restock, to hunt.
To continue her mission.
Standing proved easier than expected.Her leg held her weight with only a minimal throb of protest.Shifter healing—delayed by silver but not defeated.
She climbed the root cellar steps, emerging into the cabin’s ruined interior.Afternoon sunlight streamed through holes in the roof, illuminating decades of abandonment.Nature had begun to reclaim the structure—desert plants pushing through floorboards, pack rats nesting in corners, lizards sunning themselves on crumbling windowsills.
She stood in the doorway, testing the air with her enhanced senses.
No humans nearby.No shifters either.Just desert life going about its timeless routines.
And beneath it all, that persistent tug westward.The mate bond, a little stronger now that she was healing, pulled at her like a physical tether.
She was in no condition to confront anyone directly.Her leg would hold her weight but wouldn’t support combat.Her strength was at maybe 50 percent of normal.
The silver had done its damage.
She had two options: withdraw to recuperate fully or adapt her approach.
Adaptation, definitely.
Surveillance.Intelligence gathering.The skills her father had taught her since childhood.
Know your enemy before you strike.
Her decision made, Nadine set about preparing.
First, hunting—her wolf form could manage that much, even injured.A jackrabbit or desert hare would restore her strength faster than trail rations.
Then reconnaissance.
The Sunburst Pack’s territory spread to the west, their patrol patterns likely altered after her encounter with Conall.
She needed to map the changes, find the blind spots.
And above all, she needed information about their connection to Gregory Torrance’s death.Proof that would stand before a pack council if it came to that.
By nightfall, Nadine had taken down two rabbits and replenished her water from a natural spring half a mile south of the cabin.The protein helped clear the last of the fever fog from her mind, sharpening her focus, but the exertion had tired her more than she cared to admit, her injured leg protesting each step back to the root cellar.
