Chapter 3

Chapter

Three

Evelyn

T he Amtrak train hummed beneath me as I settled into my seat, the bustling activity of Seattle's King Street Station fading behind me. I stowed my luggage overhead, but the weight on my shoulders didn't dissipate. As the train pulled out of the station, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the window—hazel eyes shadowed with worry, auburn hair pulled back in a haphazard ponytail.

Stunning, if I did say so myself.

I slumped into my seat and stared out the window. The jagged coastline unfolded before me, the Pacific Ocean an endless expanse of gray under the overcast sky. I leaned my forehead against the cool glass, attempting to lose myself in the rhythmic clatter of the train against the tracks. It was a losing battle. My mind refused to rest.

I reached for my phone, scrolling through my recent calls until I found the one I was looking for. Bruce. He'd been less than thrilled to cover my shifts for the week when I'd called in with a "family emergency." If only he knew the truth.

He hadn't put up much of a fuss, especially after I reminded him of the countless times I'd covered his ass over the summer. His penchant for late nights and pretty faces had left me picking up the slack more times than he cared to admit.

But my current predicament made Bruce's indiscretions seem trivial. I was heading back to the one place I'd sworn I'd never return—back to my pack, back to the alpha who had made my life a living hell.

Memories flickered through my mind like a twisted slideshow. Dark eyes filled with malice, claws digging into flesh, the coppery scent of blood heavy in the air. I shuddered, pushing the images away. It had been five years since I'd left Kitimat, but the scars—both physical and emotional—still stung.

I turned my attention back to my phone, desperate for a distraction. A news headline caught my eye: "Another Unexplained Disappearance in Northern BC." My breath hitched. It wasn't the first story of its kind I'd seen recently. People vanishing without a trace, search parties turning up empty-handed. The humans chalked it up to the vast wilderness, to the dangers of the untamed forest or inexperienced tourists. But I knew better.

Shifters had lived among humans for centuries, hiding in plain sight. We looked like them, talked like them, blended into their world seamlessly. But there were signs if you knew where to look. Unexplainable things that hinted at something more lurking beneath the surface. The darkness we fought on their behalf.

I scanned the article, my heart sinking with each word. A hiker gone missing near Terrace, his campsite found abandoned, his supplies untouched. It was a story I'd heard before, but not since I was a kid. A rogue shifter or something more sinister?

I set my phone aside, my mind spinning. Was this what had led to Callista's disappearance? Had she stumbled upon something she shouldn't have? Trusted the wrong person?

The train pressed on, and I closed my eyes, steeling myself for what lay ahead.

The change in motion jolted me from a restless sleep. As the train pulled to a stop, I gathered my belongings and stepped onto the bustling street. The fresh air filled my lungs, a bittersweet reminder of the home I'd left behind. Seagulls circled overhead, their cries mingling with the chatter of tourists and locals alike.

Peak season in Vancouver. A perfect time to blend in…or get lost.

I wove through the crowd, my senses on high alert. It had been over a year since I set foot in this province, but the memories came flooding back with each step. The laughter of my packmates, the thrill of the hunt, the sense of belonging that had once filled my heart. But those days were long gone, shattered by the cruelty of an alpha who cared more for power and control than for his own people.

I made my way from Pacific Central Station to False Creek, my stomach grumbling. A small fish and chips stand caught my eye, and I joined the line of hungry patrons. As I waited, I scanned the faces around me, searching for any sign of recognition. But the people of Vancouver went about their lives, oblivious to the world that lurked just beyond their sight.

"What can I get for you?" The man behind the window looked like he'd just gotten off a rafting trip in Jasper.

"Fish and chips, please. And a Coke."

He nodded, setting to work on my order. I leaned against the counter, my gaze drifting to the harbor beyond. Boats bobbed in the water, their hulls painted in bright colors. A group of children tossed bread to the eager gulls, their laughter carrying on the breeze.

For a moment, I allowed myself to imagine a different life. One where I wasn't burdened by the guilt of leaving my pack, where I could live among the humans and pretend to be one of them. But the illusion was shattered as quickly as it had formed. I was a shifter, bound by duty and blood. There was no escaping that, no matter how far I ran or how deep I shoved my emotions.

I paid for my meal and found a bench to sit and eat. The fish was crispy, the chips hot and salty. I savored each bite, knowing it might be my last decent meal for a while. Where I was going, I wouldn't be free to saunter into the cozy pubs or stand in the open waiting for a food truck.

As I finished my lunch, I pulled out my phone and called a rideshare. It was a long drive to the Kitimat territory, and I wasn't in the mood to navigate the winding roads myself. The car arrived a few minutes later, a sleek black sedan with a friendly driver at the wheel.

"Headed north, eh?" he asked, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Yep." I slid into the back seat after checking the license plate. I wasn't in the mood for small talk.

He nodded, merging into traffic. As we left the bustling streets of Vancouver behind, the landscape morphed. Towering trees replaced skyscrapers, their branches reaching toward the sky. The air grew crisper, the world quieter.

"Beautiful country out here." The driver's voice broke the silence. "You're lucky if you call this place home."

I smiled wryly, my gaze fixed on the passing scenery. Lucky. The word made my face pinch. "It's a special place. But it's not my home." I kept my voice neutral. "The people here, they're connected to the land in a way most folks can't understand."

The driver nodded, his eyes alight with passion. "That's what I love about this part of the world. The respect for nature, the desire to protect what we have. It's not like that everywhere, you know? Some people, they just want to take and take until there's nothing left."

"You're not from BC?"

He shook his head. "Chicago."

I nodded, shifting slightly so he couldn't see my face in the rearview. His words struck a chord within me, echoing the very mission of the shifters. We were the guardians of this land, the protectors of the delicate balance between man and nature. It was a heavy burden, one I had once been proud to bear.

But that was before. Before the threats, the violence, the fear that had driven me from my home and my pack. I closed my eyes, memories flooding back unbidden.

The cruel smile of my alpha as he towered over me, his claws digging into my skin. The whispers within the pack when I dared assert that Nathan hid something dark behind his hero facade. And then, the moment I knew I had to run, had to leave everything I loved behind?—

"You alright, miss?" the driver asked, his voice laced with concern. "You look a bit pale."

"I'm fine," I lied. "Just tired. Thanks."

He nodded, understanding in his eyes. "Well, you just sit back and relax. I'll get you where you need to go."

As the car wound its way deeper into the wilderness, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was heading toward something I wasn't prepared for. The shifters needed my help, that much was clear. But at what cost? And would I be strong enough to face the demons of my past in order to protect the future of my kind?

Only time would tell. For now, all I could do was watch the trees blur past the window and pray that I could find Callie before Nathan returned home.

I watched the kilometer markers whizz past until the car slowed to a stop. My brow furrowed in confusion. This wasn't the meeting point I'd agreed upon with Blake. In fact, this wasn't even Kitimat territory.

"I think there's been a mistake." I leaned forward. "This isn't where I'm supposed to be."

He inspected the app on his phone. "So sorry, but this is the address you gave me."

I groaned, realization dawning. In my haste to input the destination, I must have accidentally selected the Tim Horton's at the north end of Black Lake. Easy to do when there was one on every corner. Now, instead of being on the cusp of Kitimat land, I was still a ways out, with a long walk ahead of me.

"Any chance you can head up to Kitimat?"

He shook his head apologetically. "Sorry, I've got another ride pinging me. I'm so far out, I've got to take it, or I won't get a fare on the way back into Vancouver."

I nodded and grabbed my bag, then pushed out of the car. "My fault. Thanks for the ride."

The driver smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "No worries. Have a great night."

I nodded, shouldering my bag and heading toward the Tims. If I was going to make this trek on foot, I needed caffeine.

As I reached for the door, it swung open, and I stumbled back. I looked up to find myself face-to-face with a man I hadn't seen in years. "Rowan," I breathed, recognizing him instantly despite the years that had stretched between us.

His towering frame commanded the space around him. Our eyes met, and time seemed to slow. He was older, broader, but those piercing blue eyes were unmistakable—even after all these years.

A tentative smile teased at my lips, but it faltered as his expression twisted into something unreadable. Flustered, almost angry.

"Evelyn?" His voice was brusque, the undercurrents of authority clear as crystal. Memories swirled in my head, of us as kids, scampering through the forest before the schism that tore our packs apart.

But now, his scent told me exactly who he was.

He was an alpha. His stance, the set of his jaw, the barely contained power rippling beneath his skin, all screaming his rank. And I, despite everything, still recognized the invisible threads of hierarchy that bound us.

I opened my mouth to respond, but the words died on my lips. There was something in his expression, a flicker of emotion that I couldn't quite place. Anger? Fear? Disgust?

Before I could contemplate it further, he pushed past me, his shoulder brushing mine as he stalked toward the parking lot. Rude, much?

I shook my head, trying to dispel the uneasy feeling that had settled in my gut. I didn't care what he thought of me, but he'd certainly recognized me. He and Nathan were the antithesis of bosom buddies, but I didn't need anyone spreading rumors about me showing up in town.

I stepped into the warmth of the Tim Hortons, the scent of coffee and baked goods enveloping me like a comforting hug. My thoughts clouded as I stared at the line of maple donuts.

Rowan. An alpha now. In our world, alphas were born leaders, strong and dominant, while betas and omegas fell into line behind them. But there was something else about Rowan, something that set him apart from other alphas I'd known. A darkness in his eyes, a tension in his jaw. It was as if he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.

I shook myself mentally. I couldn't afford to get distracted by ghosts from my past. I had a job to do, and I intended to see it through.

I paid for my coffee and bagel and started my trek. It didn't take as long as I thought. The weather was good, and I kept off the main roads. As soon as I crossed over, a familiar scent hit me—the earthy, musky aroma of my pack—and I nearly dropped to my knees.

Tears stung my eyes as I pressed on to the correct coffee shop. My heart quickened as I saw them waiting for me, their faces etched with a mixture of relief and worry.

Blake stepped forward first. His muscular frame engulfed me in a hug that had no business feeling as good as it did. "Evelyn," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. "Thank you for coming."

I pulled back, searching his green eyes. "Of course. I came as soon as I could."

Celeste, Blake's mate, was next. She cupped my face in her hands, her touch gentle and maternal. "We didn't know who else to turn to. We still don't have another tracker."

I swallowed hard, trying to ignore the lump in my throat. "Tell me everything."

We went straight to their car, away from prying eyes and ears. I sat in the back, my coffee forgotten in my hand as I focused on Blake and Celeste.

"She was acting strange before she disappeared." Blake started the car and pulled out of his parking spot, his brow furrowed. "Secretive. Distant. It wasn't like her."

Celeste nodded, her sandy hair catching the sunlight. "She'd been spending a lot of time alone in the woods. We thought maybe she'd met someone, but…"

"But what?" I prompted gently.

"She seemed scared," Blake admitted. "Like she was running from something. Or someone."

A chill ran down my spine. In our world, there were plenty of things to be scared of. Rival packs, rogue shifters, humans who would never understand our way of life.

"Did she say anything else?" I asked. "Anything that might give us a clue as to where she went?"

Celeste shook her head, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Nothing. She just… vanished."

Blake pulled onto their street, and my head snapped to the end of the block. My house. Or the house Nathan wanted to be mine.

I kept my head down as we hurried inside, and I excused myself, straight into Callista's room. The scent of wildflowers, so uniquely hers, enveloped me as I stepped inside. Everything looked just as she would've left it—the bed neatly made, a stack of books on her nightstand, a sweater draped over the back of her chair.

But as I began to search, opening drawers and rifling through papers, a nagging sense of unease grew in the pit of my stomach. This was Callista's space, her sanctuary. It felt wrong to invade it, even if it was for her own good.

I was about to give up when a glint of metal caught my eye. Tucked in the back of her closet, half-hidden beneath a pile of clothes, was a small wooden box with a metal combination lock. My heart raced as I pulled it out, the weight of it heavy in my hands.

The lock opened easily beneath my trembling fingers. Already turned to the correct numbers, which made the whole thing seem pointless. As I lifted the lid, a gasp escaped my lips.

Inside, nestled on a bed of velvet, was a silver dagger. The blade was honed to a wicked point, the handle intricately carved with symbols I didn't recognize. It pulsed with an energy that made my wolf stir within me, hackles rising. I hadn't felt her in so long.

This wasn't just any dagger. It was a ceremonial blade, the kind used in ancient rituals and blood oaths. The kind that could kill with a single strike.

And it was the last thing I ever expected to find in Callista's possession.