Chapter 11

Chapter

Eleven

Evelyn

" L ooks like some packs are actually considering the alliance," Blake murmured, his eyes scanning the residual groups that lingered in the dark. "A unified front. It's what we need."

I nodded, unable to shake off the cloak of nervousness that clung to me. The Elders of the Kitimat Pack would be no easy quarry. Skepticism ran deep in their veins, almost as deep as their loyalty. And here I was, a defector, a lone wolf about to ask them for a favor.

I drew a deep breath. I wasn't doing this for me. I was doing this for one of their own—to help their pack. The fact that I stood here filled with self-doubt made me want to punch something.

That was what Nathan had done to me. Made me doubt myself. Made me question my own version of reality. No. I was making my own sacrifices to be here, and they could shove their criticism where the sun didn't shine.

"Let's do this." I nodded to Blake, and he handed me the dagger. With an imperceptible nod, he beckoned me toward a secluded alcove shielded by ancient trees. "Will they all come?" I asked.

"Only a few," Blake replied, his sandy hair catching the moonlight that broke through the canopy. "The rest have gone with Justin. They trust his judgment."

That was to be expected. I didn't know if Blake had told the elders who they'd be meeting, but I doubted he'd given them the whole truth. The way Justin had reacted earlier…I shivered. Nathan would be returning soon, and I needed to be far from Kitimat when he arrived.

A few moments later, the Elders emerged from the shadows like specters of a bygone era, their figures imposing even under the heavy cloak of night. Elder Marlowe led the procession, his silver hair cascading over broad shoulders. He carried with him an air of command that often made wolves twice his junior cower. His piercing gaze settled on me, and I could feel the weight of his scrutiny.

"The prodigal. Returned." His voice was gravelly, carrying the resonance of a growl even in human form.

"Does our alpha know of this?" chirped Elder Tara, her frame lithe and movements spry as she rounded Marlowe like a cunning fox. Her eyes twinkled with mischief, though her tone held an edge sharp enough to cut through bone.

"I'm not interested in betrayal," retorted Elder Cormac, his burly figure moving forward with a lumbering grace. The lines on his face deepened as he frowned.

"Enough," snapped Elder Keira, meeting my eyes.

She'd seen me once. In the grocery store. I'd gone out to buy apples, and Nathan didn't like returning from work to find the house empty. I'd thought I left enough time, but there was only one checker open. I was a nervous wreck, sweating through my shirt, when I started out to the parking lot. That's when I saw Keira. Next to Nathan's truck.

Keira gave me a slight nod. "Tell me why you're here, child." With one piercing look, it was as if she saw beneath my surface. She knew. They may not approve of the choices I made, but she at least understood why I'd made them.

"I'm here for Callista. For the Ash family. I know Kitimat doesn't have a tracker." I still love my pack. I couldn't quite say those words out loud, but I felt them. It was true. I missed this place. I missed my family and friends. But no amount of community was worth bondage.

"I found this." I drew the dagger from my coat, the blade catching the scarce light and throwing it into the Elders' faces. Their expressions shifted from skepticism to solemnity in a matter of seconds.

Cormac stepped closer, his large hand hovering over the weapon but not touching it. "Where did you find this?" he asked, his voice losing its earlier bite.

"I believe Callista had it," I replied.

The elders exchanged looks.

"Never straightforward, are you, Evelyn?" Marlowe's lips twisted into something between a smirk and a sneer. His eyes, though, remained locked on the dagger.

"Only when it serves my purpose," I shot back, feeling that familiar tickle of defiance. I was a grown-ass woman with a strong wolf. I wasn't going to allow them to treat me like a petulant child.

"Marlowe, hold your tongue," Tara chided softly, her silver hair shimmering even in the dim light. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she turned to me. "These markings," she murmured, gesturing at the intricate etchings on the blade. "They speak of old magic, of a time when the veil between worlds was thinner."

"Indeed," Cormac rumbled, his deep voice carrying an undercurrent of concern. His fingers brushed over the symbols, careful not to make contact with the steel. "I've seen similar craftwork once before?—"

"Enough," Lysander interrupted, his green eyes flashing with urgency. The others fell silent, turning to him.

I waited impatiently. This was always how it was with the elders. They wanted to help the pack, but they wouldn't give up their secrets.

"This magic has made its way to Kitimat," I said. "There's no benefit to hiding what you know. Callista is out there, along with the other wolves that have disappeared. I need to find her."

Lysander pursed his lips. "We don't have the answers you seek. But if you take this to Lyra?—"

Tara hissed a breath. "Wolves do not collude with witches."

"Who's Lyra?" My heart began to speed.

"Lyra Moonshadow," Keira began, holding up a hand when Tara tried again to cut in. "A witch of formidable power who fled to the northern reaches long ago. She sought solitude after a great tragedy befell her."

"Tragedy?" I pressed, sensing there was more they were hesitant to reveal.

"Her mate," Lysander said simply, and the finality in his tone told me all I needed to know about the depth of Lyra's loss. "Cursed and taken from this world. She's been alone ever since, meddling in human affairs. Her loyalty to none but herself."

"Meddling how?" I could feel my curiosity morphing into resolve. If this witch knew anything about the dagger, I needed to find her.

"She follows whims ," Tara said, as if it were a curse word.

"Her magic is not bound only to nature itself," Cormac said. "But if she was involved in creating this…" He shook his head. "I don't know what would compel her to do such a thing."

"Has anyone in Kitimat met her recently?" Blake asked, and I knew what he was thinking. Why would Callie have this? Callie was curious, but even I didn't believe she would have gone on a jaunt through the woods to meet a witch.

"Be careful." Marlowe said gruffly, his gaze finally leaving the dagger to meet mine. "Kitimat does not bend easily, even to the likes of witches."

It was the closest anyone had come to pretending I was still a member of the pack. My eyes stung at the corners just as a stone settled in the pit of my stomach. I didn't know what I'd been expecting, but it definitely wasn't witchcraft.

"Are you okay?" Blake asked, his voice low as we slipped away from the clearing. The moon cast dappled shadows across his concerned face.

"Fine," I lied, my voice steady despite the turmoil churning inside me.

"Everything went well?" Celeste asked as we approached the truck.

"Define 'well'," I quipped, forcing a smile that didn't reach my eyes. "We have a lead."

"Hey, that's a start." Celeste looked so hopeful, I swallowed the next words that wanted to come out of my mouth.

We took our seats, and the truck's tires crunched over the gravel as we pulled away from the wooded enclave. Blake drove in silence, his jaw set in a line that told me he too was processing the night's revelations. My fingers drummed on the windowpane, cooling against the glass.

I watched the trees blur past, their shadows melding with the night, an obsidian tapestry pierced only by the occasional glint of moonlight. The forest of northern British Columbia had always been my haven, and yet tonight, it felt like a stranger.

"Drop you at the hotel?" Blake asked, glancing at me briefly before his eyes returned to the winding road.

"Please." I nodded. I hoped they weren't offended that I wasn't staying with them for more than a night. Blake was probably relieved after what happened in the clearing. Now if Justin stopped by, Blake wouldn't have to explain why I was sitting in the living room.

Lights began to wink through the trees around us as we passed over Black Lake territory. We pulled into the hotel's parking lot, a nondescript two-story building with a fresh coat of paint.

"Thanks for the ride." I reached for the door handle.

"Of course. Call if you need anything," Blake replied, but I was already stepping out into the crisp night air. I gave a small wave and slung my backpack over my shoulder, the dagger tucked safely inside.

The hotel's lobby was empty, save for the night clerk who barely glanced up from her book as I checked in. Her disinterest was oddly comforting. I took the keycard and made my way to door 217.

Inside, the room was just as unremarkable as the rest of the building—beige walls, a bed with a quilted comforter, and a solitary painting of a lake at sunset. But it was the silence that eased my anxiety.

I shed my jacket and boots, and moved almost mechanically, washing my face and brushing through my hair. It was then that Rowan pushed his way back into my thoughts. Why had he jumped into my conversation with Justin? Did he think I couldn't handle myself?

The way he looked at me…

My blood heated just thinking about it. He was alpha of Black Lake. I had so many questions for him. Nathan had told me plenty about who Rowan was, but there wasn't much that came out of his mouth I believed anymore.

I'd spent months in Seattle trying to untangle the lies from truth. I still didn't understand why Nathan had challenged our alpha. I didn't understand why my parents chose to side with him instead of staying with Black Lake. They hadn't been willing to answer my questions then, and I doubted they'd open up now. Especially since I may as well have been a stranger to them.

I pulled back the covers and was about to slip into bed when a deafening knock shattered the fragile silence of my hotel room, jerking me out of my thoughts. My pulse spiked, the instinctual side of me rising to the fore as I sprang from the bed, every muscle tensed for action.

"Who is it?" I called, wary. But there was no response—only another urgent pounding that seemed to echo the racing of my heart.

I approached the door slowly, the grain of the cheap carpet rough against my bare feet. The hotel had felt like a safe haven moments before. Now, the four walls felt restrictive, the shadows lurking in corners suddenly too dark, too deep.

Gripping the handle with one hand, I had no choice but to reach for my wolf, letting her senses enhance my own. After what happened in the trees earlier, the idea of relying on her sent my heart into palpitations. Would she run? Fight? Try to hump something?

I closed my eyes and took my chances.

The scent under the door nearly knocked me off my feet.

"Evelyn, it's me. Rowan. Can you open the door, please?"