Chapter 5
The alarm went off at three in the morning.
Not the lodge's security system. Something older. Malcolm's wolf, howling a warning through the pack bond that made every hair on my arms stand up.
I was out of bed before I fully woke, grabbing the bow Malcolm had given me last week. My legs held. Steady. Strong.
Footsteps in the hallway. Malcolm appeared, already dressed, eyes glowing silver in the darkness.
"How many?" I asked.
"Six. Maybe seven." His voice was calm, but his hands were shifting, claws extending. "Rogues. Professional."
Professional meant hired. Hired meant Jonah.
"Where?"
"East perimeter. Heading for the safe house."
The safe house. Where three wolfless she-wolves and their children were sleeping.
I was moving before he finished speaking.
"Halle—"
"I'm not hiding." I nocked an arrow, muscle memory taking over. "Not anymore."
He looked at me. Something fierce and proud flashed across his face.
"Stay behind me," he said.
We ran.
The forest was dark, but my eyes adjusted fast. Faster than they should have. My wolf, still dormant, lending me her senses. I felt her there, just beneath my skin, waiting.
The safe house came into view. A small cabin, lights off, surrounded by trees.
And shadows. Moving shadows with glowing eyes.
Malcolm's growl rumbled through the clearing. The shadows froze.
Then they attacked.
Malcolm shifted mid-leap, his massive silver-black wolf tearing into the first rogue. I raised my bow, tracking movement, waiting for a clear shot.
There. A rogue breaking away from the pack, heading for the cabin's back entrance.
I released.
The arrow caught him in the shoulder. He stumbled, snarled, kept moving.
I ran after him.
My legs burned, but they held. I was faster than I'd been in seven years, stronger, and the rage that had been building since I saw that logbook was a living thing inside me.
The rogue reached the door. Started to break it down.
I tackled him.
We went down hard, rolling across the ground. He was bigger, heavier, but I'd trained for this. Years ago, when I was whole.
I wasn't whole now. But I was close enough.
He threw me off. I hit a tree, pain exploding through my back. He lunged, claws extended, going for my throat.
I grabbed the knife from my belt and drove it up.
It caught him under the ribs. He made a choking sound, eyes going wide.
Then he collapsed.
I shoved him off me, gasping. Blood covered my hands. His blood.
Behind me, the sounds of fighting faded. Malcolm's howl, victorious and fierce.
I looked down at the dead rogue.
And saw the dagger on his belt.
Silver. Ornate. With a crest etched into the hilt.
A crest I'd seen before. Seven years ago, in the evidence photos from Luna's death.
My hands shook as I pulled it free.
***
Malcolm found me sitting beside the body, the dagger in my lap.
"Halle." He was human again, pulling on a shirt someone had brought. "Are you hurt?"
I held up the dagger.
He went very still.
"That's—"
"Luna's killers." My voice came out flat. Dead. "Same crest. Same design."
He knelt beside me, took the dagger carefully. Turned it over in his hands.
"We need to search him," he said quietly.
We did.
The rogue had a phone. Encrypted, but Malcolm's tech specialist cracked it in under an hour.
Payment records. Wire transfers from a shell company. I didn't recognize the name, but Malcolm did.
"Armstrong Holdings," he said, his voice tight. "Jonah's private account."
More digging. More files.
And then we found it.
Emails. Seven years old. Jonah's personal address to a contact listed only as "V."
*The Luna knows about the funds. She's threatening to go to the Council. Handle it. Make it look like a rogue attack.*
The response: *Understood. It will be done.*
I stared at the screen. At proof that Jonah had ordered my sister's death.
"He killed her," I whispered. "Luna found out he was stealing from the pack, and he killed her."
Malcolm's hand found mine. Squeezed.
"We have him," he said. "This is enough for the Council. Enough to—"
His phone buzzed.
He looked at the screen. His expression went dark.
"What?"
He turned the phone so I could see.
An official summons from the Lycan Council. Jonah had filed a formal complaint, claiming Malcolm had kidnapped his mate and was holding me against my will.
And more. A declaration of intent to hold a Mating Confirmation Ceremony at the Great Gathering in three days.
"He's going to use a proxy," Malcolm said. "Claim you're too ill to attend and have someone stand in your place. Once the ceremony's complete, you'll be legally bound to him. Even without the mark."
"Can he do that?"
"If you don't show up to contest it." Malcolm's jaw was tight. "It's an old law. Rarely used. But legal."
I looked at the dagger. At the emails. At seven years of lies and poison and death.
Jonah thought I was broken. Thought I'd hide here, too afraid to face him.
He was wrong.
"Then I'll be there," I said.
Malcolm looked at me. "Halle—"
"I'll be there," I repeated. "And I'm going to end this."
His eyes searched mine. Then he nodded.
"We'll go together," he said.
I stood. My legs were steady. My hands didn't shake.
For the first time in seven years, I felt like myself.
"Three days," I said. "That's all he has left."
You may also like
