by Bella Jacobs
My brows creep higher on my forehead. “Really? And you think you could have pulled off a coup?”
She shrugs a shoulder. “Maybe. With Diana’s help. And if I’d had time to turn the women in my focus group against you by deftly and subtly pointing out all the ways their lives would be better with me in charge.”
I laugh.
I probably shouldn’t, but I can’t help myself.
“What?” she challenges. “I’d be a good Alpha. I can empathize with the powerless people in your pack way more than you ever could. I know what it’s like to be one of them. I see what they need and how they’re being overlooked and silenced in ways you don’t.”
“I believe you,” I say. “It was just the way you said it—so matter of fact. No one else talks to me like that, Willow. No one else would dare.” I brush her hair from her face. “I think you’re stronger than you think, and that you’ll be able to handle Cam just fine. But if you’re really worried, I have an idea where we might be able to secure some backup.”
Hope sparks in her eyes. “Really?”
I nod. “Secure backup and give your mother her first taste of North Star pack living at the same time. Kill two birds with one stone.”
Her jaw drops. “My mom? But how? I’m not even sure where she is. I mean, I have a general idea, but I haven’t dared reach out to her or Dad since they left. I was afraid it would put them in Pax and Victor’s crosshairs.”
“Understandable. The St. Louis pack is inclusive, but relatively defenseless.” I push on before the question in her eyes can pass her lips. “When it became apparent our allies were becoming few and far between, Hermione reached out to the St. Louis pack. They pledged their loyalty so long as you remained under North Star’s protection. I couldn’t see any reason for that request unless…”
“My parents were there,” she finishes. “Yeah. They are.” She tightens her grip on my scarf. “Do you really think it’s safe to bring them into this? And would we be able to get them to the city fast enough?”
“I have a friend who runs a chartered plane service who owes me a favor. As long as your parents are willing, we could probably have them here by early this afternoon.” I hesitate, glancing toward the dock now just a dozen yards away. “As far as whether it’s safe, I don’t think that’s something any of us can take for granted anymore, no matter where we are. Not until we ensure Bane’s army is no longer a threat.” I turn back to Willow. “And having your parents here with us would be an important strategic move, as well.”
Her expression falls, the excitement summoned by the thought of seeing her mom and dad vanishing as she remembers why their support has become a political matter. “To show they stand with me, not with Kelley,” she says softly.
“If it comes down to it, yes.”
“But maybe they won’t have to choose,” she says. “Maybe we’ll get home today and find a message from Kelley offering a full surrender. Maybe Diana is already on her way back to us and everything will be fine.” She glances up, sighing as her eyes meet mine. “And maybe I’ll grow six inches before we reach land.”
“I wouldn’t want you to grow six inches. I like you just the way you are, snack-sized and small enough to fit in my pocket.”
Her eyes narrow. “Snack-sized? Did you really just go there?”
“Fun-sized?” I tease, hoping to lighten the moment. “Is that better?”
She shakes her head. “What if I called you Sasquatch? Because you’re big and hairy and have a funny looking forehead? How would you like that?”
I grin wider. “You can call me whatever you want to call me, short stack, as long as you call me.”
Her nose wrinkles, but when I pull her in for a hug, she wraps her arms around my waist and holds on tight. “You don’t have a funny looking forehead,” she mumbles into my sweatshirt. “You’re gorgeous.”
“I know,” I say, earning myself a sharp pinch at the waist. “Ouch. And you are ruthless.”
“I am. And there’s more where that came from,” she says, tilting her head back. “Better stay on my good side.”
“I plan on it,” I promise, and then I kiss her.
I’m still kissing her when the ferry bumps into the dock. Our teeth knock together through our lips, and we both laugh. And for a moment everything is simple. If only we were what we appear to be—two people in love headed into the city to enjoy the autumn colors in Central Park, hit a museum or two, and end the day with dinner and a show.
As we head back to the station wagon, I silently vow to make at least part of that fantasy come true.
We might not have time for a walk through the park or a night at the theater, but even generals prepping for battle have to eat.
Chapter Five
Diana
I run until my bare feet are scratched and bruised and the sun sinks low in the sky, and keep running after darkness falls.
I consider shifting—so I can move faster and heal the minor injuries on my feet before they get any worse—but if I do, I’ll have to leave my dress and cardigan behind, and I’m going to need clothes when I reach the human world.
I’ve only been caught naked by humans once.
My cousin, Pepper, and I went for a late-night scamper down the beach near her family’s home on Martha’s Vineyard. By the time we got back, a frat party was raging on the sand right in front of her house. We had no choice but to shift and try to sneak past them up the steps to her place.
But we were only fourteen and pretty shitty at sneaking around. And I swear frat boys have some kind of sick radar when it comes to spotting vulnerable young women.
A couple of the guys caught up with us halfway up the steps and started teasing us, asking if we’d been skinny dipping and if we wanted to go again. I’d never been embarrassed about being naked before, but that night I was mortified. And scared. The way those boys looked at me made me feel like a roasted chicken they couldn’t wait to pull apart with their bare hands.
Pepper’s dad came looking for us before things could get too creepy, but ever since then I’ve been super careful not to end up naked around humans.
Especially human men.
I’m already going to be running out of the woods all alone and seemingly helpless. If I’m naked to boot, that might be too much temptation for whatever mountain man I happen to encounter to resist, and I really don’t have time to rip a man’s throat out for trying to sexually assault me right now.
But then, there’s always a chance I’ll cross paths with a woman instead.
As I keep walking through the night, slowing my pace as I grow dehydrated and my muscles weaken with exhaustion, I mentally will a friendly, helpful old lady to pop up into my path along with the morning sun.
But morning dawns and I’m still so far from civilization that I can’t hear any traffic noises or smell the slightest hint of human habitation. And I’m so weary I know I have to stop to rest. At least for a little while.
Making my way down into a nearby valley, I find a river—I’m guessing the same one that flows close to Bane’s camp—and get a long drink. I splash water on my face and soak my aching feet for a few minutes while I ponder my options.
If I follow the river, I’m likely to reach civilization faster. Humans, especially in earlier times, tended to build close to rivers for water supply and easy access to water-based shipping and transportation. But if Bane has sent a tracking party to find me, they’ll be more likely to follow the river, too. They’ll know that I’ll need water to keep going and will be searching for signs of civilization.
But if I head back up onto the ridge, I could end up wandering the woods for days and starve to death.
As if agreeing that’s something we should be worried about, my stomach lets out a long, low grumble.
I’m already starving and wishing I’d forced down more of Kelley’s breakfast. Yesterday, I was too upset by all the domestic violence to eat, but I should have realized that I needed my strength.
; But I wasn’t thinking that far ahead.
Because I’m freaking eighteen and until a week ago, I was positive telling my controlling older brother than I’m dating a cat shifter was the biggest drama bomb that could explode in my life.
But I was so wrong. And now Jacob is likely dead and maybe Maxim and Willow, too, and I’m lost and probably going to die alone in the woods and there will be no one left to warn everyone in the tower what’s coming for them.
The backs of my eyes begin to burn, but I’m too dehydrated to cry. All the water I just drank hasn’t had time to get to my eyeballs, I guess.
I sit there on the bank, my face stinging and my shoulders shaking, but no tears coming out. And then I pull myself together, get back on my feet, and suck in a deep, head-clearing breath.
I don’t have time to fall apart. I have to keep going.
I start back up the ridge, deciding to split the difference. I’ll follow the river, but at a distance so I won’t be easily spotted by anyone else doing the same. And I’ll look for edible plants as I go. It’s too late in the season for dandelions, which I know are safe to eat, but I might be able to find some blackberries still on the vine or grubs under a log. I just need something in my stomach to keep it from snarling.
Three hours later, I’ve found nothing to eat, the cuts on my feet are throbbing, and I’m on the verge of shifting and giving up on my clothes in hopes that my wolf’s nose will be able to catch signs of civilization my human one is missing, when I catch a low thunking sound on the breeze.
I pause, my ears pricking as I strain to hear where it’s coming from.
Up, I think…
I leave the ridge, climbing higher on a nearby mountain, following the thunk. It starts and stops, starts and stops, establishing a pattern that makes me think it must be an axe. Someone is up there cutting wood. And they’re probably a solo someone, not an entire lumber crew or there would be more than one axe working at a time.
Heart fluttering in my chest, I force myself to keep going. I’m so tired and hungry I feel like I’m about to pass out, but I have to get to that person before they leave. They might be my only shot at getting help before I grow too weak to keep searching for it.
At the top of the mountain, I’m forced to climb straight up a small rock outcropping. My arms and legs tremble as I find handholds and toeholds, but I manage to drag myself up and over the ledge. There, I find a wide clearing, a cabin with a killer view of the valley on the other side, and a man in a brown flannel shirt and black knit cap hard at work splitting a pile of firewood.
He’s a big man, tall and broad-shouldered with thighs so thick they strain the seams of his jeans, but his colors are okay. His aura is mostly brown and gray—a sign he’s probably lonely and at least a little sad—but with touches of yellow and orange that hint at a creative, hopeful side.
And who wouldn’t be lonely living up here on the mountain in the middle of nowhere? That’s normal, right? And he has a Jeep, I see, as I push to my feet and creep slowly across the clearing.
The vehicle is parked in the small shed by the house and is an older model, one I could probably hotwire if I tried.
In addition to hacking my brother’s security protocols at the tower and picking the lock at the gym at school so my friends and I could use the pool and hot tub after hours, I’m pretty good with a hotwire. I’ve never stolen a car—only practiced on my friends’ cars, mostly to maintain my rep as the girl most likely to become a spy—but I could do it. I wouldn’t even feel bad about it.
After all, I would bring it back. And this man surely has enough food and supplies to survive for a few days stranded on the mountain.
I’m about to reverse direction and head for the Jeep when the axe goes quiet. I glance over just as the man turns and his nose lifts into the air.
I have a moment to realize the guy isn’t human—the flash of animal awareness in his eyes gives him away—and that he looks weirdly familiar. Then he’s running toward me, his axe still in hand, and I figure it’s better to get the hell out of here first and worry about whether he’s going to cut me in half later.
I turn to run, sprinting for the ledge, hoping I won’t break anything when I make the jump to the forest floor several yards below. But before I can make it ten feet I’m flattened by a wall of lumberjack.
I hit the ground hard, the wind rushing from my lungs, but not rushing back in again. So, I’m basically helpless and frozen, gasping for air when the guy rolls me onto my back and says, “Why are you all the way out here? Where’s Jacob?”
Confusion claws at my forehead, but I can’t breathe, let alone start asking questions.
I really, truly can’t breathe.
A fresh wave of panic hits and black spots begin to throb at the edges of my vision, then the center, pulsing larger with every passing second.
I’m conscious long enough to realize the lumberjack has the same brown and gold-flecked eyes as Jacob, and then I’m out, sinking into the black fuzz wrapping around my brain.
Chapter Six
Kelley
I pace the floor in the cabin as my wolf, letting my animal form heal the damage Bane left behind and begging the universe for mercy.
For a sign that I’m still on the right path.
I was nearly unconscious when a team of fairy soldiers came running from the camp, interrupting Bane before he could finish the job of beating me to death. My ears were so full of blood and my breath wheezing in and out of my lungs so loudly I couldn’t make out exactly what they said.
But it was something about “the prisoner” and “vanished” and “jumped into the river.” And then they said Willow’s name and Bane let out a scream of rage and vanished, leaving the other men to drag me into the cabin.
One of them—Kieran—was on our side.
He whispered that he’d send Elsbeth with medicine and that they “had a plan” and I shouldn’t worry.
I had no idea what he was talking about, but I was in no condition to question him. I had at least one broken rib, bruises blooming all over my skin, and something in my lower back felt like it was leaking poison into my blood. By the time Elsbeth arrived, I was shivering and moaning, so lost to the pain I couldn’t understand a word she said as she washed and nursed me.
That was…a day ago.
Maybe more.
All I know is that it was morning when I woke up a few hours ago, feeling miraculously improved. I drank the mug of herbs by my bed and felt even better—well enough to shift and walk.
And walk and walk, my thoughts racing but unable to settle on anything for long. There are too many variables. The dice are still in motion, and I have no idea where they’ll land.
Whatever “plan” Kieran was talking about—did it work?
Where are Willow and Maxim? Was their escape successful or have they been recaptured? And if they haven’t, how on earth are we going to recover them before the full moon?
Assuming we haven’t already missed our window for this month.
If I’ve only been asleep for a day, then the moon will be full tonight. If I’ve been asleep for longer, we’ll have to wait another lunar cycle and only the stars know if our alliances will survive until then.
We’re losing our hold on the other packs. Cam’s gift works incredibly well on individuals, but less so on large groups. Cracks are already beginning to form, doubt seeping into the minds of the people we manipulated into believing Maxim is a monster.
Bane making personal visits to coordinate battle plans with the other Alphas hasn’t helped things. No matter what they’ve been tricked into believing, most shifters can sense there’s something wrong with my mate. Fairies and witches don’t seem to notice it, so maybe it’s an animal instinct—like that feeling you get when you come across something dead in the woods and know it’s been there too long to be safe to eat.
Wolves will eat carrion if fresh meat isn’t available, but we know better than to snatch up a mouthful of poison.
That’s what Bane is. Poison.
He’s a plague that has to be stopped before he spreads any further.
And I was so close to stopping him. So fucking close, and then I made one tiny mistake, took one wrong step that may have ruined years of sacrifice and doomed our hopes forever.
I come back into my human skin with tears already flowing from my eyes and immediately try to shift back again. I want to remain a wolf. Wolves can’t cry or see the bruises turning their skin purple, blue, and green.
But I’m too weak to make the transformation again so soon.
I stretch my legs in front of me, studying the fist-sized mark on my thigh, not even remembering when Bane hit me there. After a while, I tend to go numb to everything but the blows that hit tender places—my stomach, my lower back, my head and neck.
I stretch my neck to one side, wincing at the pain that flashes into my shoulder. But I can tell I’ll be all right. I’ll live through this beating and come out whole on the other side, the way I have so many others.
At least…physically whole.
My soul hasn’t been whole for a while. My soul is like the Venom addicts that haunt the dark corners of Prospect Park in the Parallel—empty-eyed, traumatized, and numb, stumbling around on stick-thin legs, waiting for the hit that will snuff them out for good.
I thought secretly filling that bomb we set off in the North Star pack’s theater with Venom—sold exclusively by Victor, the Alpha of my old pack—might start a war between our alliance and the packs loyal to Victor, slowing Bane’s rise. But Victor isn’t as tough as he pretends to be. After one quick conversation, he let it go, swallowing the explanation Bane gave him—that the bear shifter who’d placed the bomb must have done it.