Chapter 1
Wolfe
The blood hadn’t dried yet.
It streaked across pine needles and stone like a warning, dark and wet enough to gleam under the moonlight. I crouched beside it, fingers pressed into the dirt, trying to picture how it happened. Where they came from. How long it had taken them to spill blood on this land.
Killian and Brand stood just behind me, tense and silent. It was better that they were behind me, because I knew I was close to ripping this pack apart until I found answers. Four shifters stood in front of me, and not one of them had yet to raise their heads. The dead shifter three feet from us was a harsh reminder of what they had failed to do.
Defend their pack.
“Why didn’t you call your alpha for help?” Killian’s voice cut through the quiet like a blade—sharp, angry, and loud enough to make the youngest male flinch.
“We thought it was the change in patrol,” the young male mumbled. “They were due, but they never came. When we saw what it was, it was too late.” His eyes flicked toward me, uncertain. Braced. Like he expected me to rip his throat out for the answer.
I didn’t. I stood slowly and let the tension roll off me like a wave. The kind that pulled you under if you weren’t careful.
“Who was assigned to relieve you?” I asked quietly.
Silence was my answer.
Speak, I commanded through the mindlink.
All four flinched, and then an older male spoke, his mouth curled in something close to a sneer. “Stonefang Pack.”
Of course it was.
I didn’t get the chance to respond before I heard movement—slow, measured steps from the ridge line. Not rushed. Not reckless.
Cale stepped through the trees like he already owned the clearing. Broad-shouldered. Calm. Bleeding from a gash at the base of his throat, like he hadn’t even noticed.
He gave me a nod, then dropped into a crouch near the blood trail. His gaze swept over the ground, sharp and quiet.
“They came from the ridge,” he said, voice steady. “Used the runoff channel to cover their scent. Same approach as last time.”
“I’m aware.” My jaw tightened. “You were late for the change of patrol.”
“We were rerouted mid-patrol,” he said without looking up. “New orders.”
“Brand?” I questioned the shifter beside me.
“There was no change in the patrol routes,” Brand snapped at Cale. “Who the fuck did you take an order from that wasn’t me or your alpha?”
Cale stood, almost as slowly as I had, his eyes steady on mine. Not challenging, not quite. “The alpha’s mate.”
Behind me, Killian muttered a curse under his breath. Brand cleared his throat, a subtle reminder to his packmate to shut the fuck up.
The four Hollow shifters were watching me, but they were listening to Cale.
“Rowen changed the patrol route?” I asked Cale, and he simply nodded. He’d come with the Stonefang Pack, and he was one of the ones I would have preferred stay behind.
He was never aggressive. He never challenged my authority. He never spoke out of turn. Buteverythinghe did was bordering on insubordination. He was clever. He never overstepped, and he never stood out; he was just…there.
All the time.
On the brink of rebellion but never quite crossing the line.
I turned, my eyes meeting Killian’s, and I saw the warning in them to hold it together. I took the moment to force my anger down, and then I looked back at the shifters in front of me. Cale was still bleeding.
