1. Jude

Chapter 1

Jude

Then

This was it. This was the end.

I'm sorry , I whispered to my wolf. He was too tired to answer me. He'd given everything he had to get me this far, and now it was my turn to take care of him… for as long as I could.

Shoulders hunched against the rain being blown in sideways, I pulled the sides of the thin shirt together, but it was about five sizes too small, and no amount of tugging could close the gap. Beggars can't be choosers , I thought with a wry grin. I remembered hearing my dad say that, except he'd been talking about eating the broccoli on my plate, not dying of exposure. Rain sluiced down the bare strip of torso, and I grunted, hurrying my pace. I just needed to get to the tree line .

Overhead, the sky seemed to tear apart, the rain pounding down with near bruising force. The clothes I'd stolen from the clothesline this morning were entirely useless, soaked through, but if someone saw a naked man running around, they'd call the cops, and that wasn't the kind of attention I needed right now.

Crouching down in the bushes along the side of the highway, I peered left and right until I was sure there were no cars coming, then I dashed across the four lanes, bare feet slapping the pavement, before stumbling and splashing through the ditch on the other side. I came down hard on my hands and knees but kept going. I didn't stop until I was deep in the trees, their shadowy embrace closing around me, hiding me and protecting me from the worst of the storm.

I'd never been in a forest like this—or any forest, for that matter—and maybe I should've been scared. There were strange sounds and smells I couldn't identify, but instead of fear, it was the closest I'd felt to being home. I was safer than I'd ever been. Nobody could find me here. Maybe it was na?ve to think that, but I clung to the lie with my cold, cramped fingers.

One foot in front of the other, it was all I could manage. I lost track of how long I'd been out here, how long it had been since I had any food or water. One day? Maybe two… or three? Night descended, bringing with it a kind of pitch-black I'd never seen. No glowing red numbers from the digital clock on the wall to keep track of the hours. No light through the crack under a door or the green power button on a security guard's walkie-talkie. Not even the moon or stars. Only the occasional flash of lightning in the distance, rolling through the clouds above.

Darkness should've meant camouflage, but as the temperature dipped low, I felt anything but comfort. I was frozen, starving, my limbs numb and shaky. I needed to sleep, but I had a bad feeling that if I lay down, I wouldn't get back up. Shifters could heal fast—under five minutes for small scratches, ten for punctures an inch deep, as long as it wasn't somewhere vital. I knew that because they'd timed it—but I couldn't do anything about an empty stomach. Our body temperature ran warmer than humans, around 102, but we could still freeze to death. And we could still starve…

If I'd had any idea about what awaited me outside those walls, I would've thought twice about running, but what choice did I have? I was the last one left. It was only a matter of time before they came for me next, and who knew if I would ever get another chance? I had to take it.

The night drew out and my movements slowed. I could barely keep my eyes open. I wasn't sure I would live to see the sun rise. I was just about to curl up in a hollowed-out tree trunk when I heard a sound. A voice. Way out here?

My veins pulsed just once as the last of my adrenaline attempted to rise inside me. Was it them? Did they find me? Maybe it would be better if they did. At least then I wouldn't die… yet.

I closed my eyes and waited for the inevitable prick of a tranquilizer dart, ready to be dragged back, but nothing happened. In the silence after a roll of thunder, I heard the voice again, followed by a second in reply. They didn't sound angry. They weren't the barked commands of the men in uniform. As if that wasn't enough to put me at ease, the wind gusted, carrying with it the scent of smoke—but it was nothing like the cigarettes the director puffed on when he was working. It was warmer somehow, comforting, and before I'd even decided to, my feet were moving toward it.

My beast lifted his head up at the slight scent of other wolves threaded through the smoke. It had been so long since I'd been around others of my kind… A deep yearning was kindled inside me, homesickness for a home I'd never really known.

Soon, I saw the orange flicker of a fire, heard a crackle that spoke to the generations of instinct that lived in my blood. Without a lick of caution, I stumbled into a small clearing under an overhang of rock, falling to my knees with a muddy splash before the fire. I was close enough to feel the burn, but I didn't care. I was too cold to get warm, too tired to move away.

I became aware that the voices had stopped. I cracked my eyes open to see a group of wolf shifters, all of them staring at me with the otherworldly eyes of their beasts shining through. Several alphas were on their feet, claws out.

"S-sorry," I mumbled through numb lips. My voice was rough with unuse. How long had it been since I last spoke?

They looked angry—no, it wasn't anger. It was fear. I understood that emotion all too well. They were wary, guarded, and I was a total stranger. It looked like it wouldn't take much to set them off, and maybe a strange wolf barging into their camp was enough to tip them over the edge. I didn't dare move a muscle—not that I could.

But then an alpha stepped forward, his hands held out in front of him, showing me his palms in surrender. "It's okay, we're not going to hurt you."

I heard one of the others mutter, "Speak for yourself," but there wasn't any heat behind it. The tension was still high, but I could already feel it trickling away. They trusted this alpha's judgment. A few of the others lowered back to the ground .

"My name is Shan," he said, lowering himself into a crouch beside me. There was something soft about this man, but not like he was weak. Quite the opposite, it was more like he was so strong that he could afford to be kind. He looked older than me by a few years at least, and reflected in his brown eyes I saw an echo of the kind of horror I understood too well. He'd seen darkness, lived violence. Somehow, that made me trust him.

"Jude," I grunted.

"Are you lost, Jude?" Shan asked me. He didn't ask where I'd come from, which saved me from having to lie to him. That was good, I didn't want to lie.

I nodded. "Y-yes. I… have no idea where I am." Not a lie.

Shan smiled softly. "Well, you're lucky to have found us. There's nothing for miles in every direction." That confirmation set me further at ease. I was safe, I was free… Without fear holding me upright, I sagged, listing to one side.

"Whoa, easy there." Shan caught me, his touch gentle. Instead of pulling away, I leaned into the comfort he provided. He didn't seem to mind propping me up. "You must be hungry if you've been out here a while. You're welcome to share a meal with us, get warm around the fire. I'm sure we can find you some dry clothes…" His eyes moved over my frame, hunched as I was on the ground. " They might still be a bit small, but it has to be a better fit than those." It felt like he'd made a joke, but nobody laughed.

Someone passed him a plate of food, and he put it in my hands. "Here, try to eat something. Sorry, it's nothing fancy, but it'll help warm you up."

It was rabbit, and it left my fingers greasy as I picked it up and shoved it into my mouth, half feral. They were still watching me warily, but nobody complained that I was eating their food. It was surprising because it didn't look like they had much to go around.

Their campsite was rough, just a few lean-tos tucked in close to the rocky outcropping, and a tarp strung between trees to keep the rain off. It looked temporary, and I wondered where they were headed next.

"Why are you helping me?" I asked quietly, though I had no doubt they could all hear me, even over the storm.

I felt him shrug where his shoulder pressed against me. "It's what my father would have done."

He didn't need to tell me his father was gone, but I was grateful to the man regardless. Without the kindness he'd taught his son, I likely would've died out here, cold and alone. "Thank you," I whispered. I vowed I would make it up to him, even if it took the rest of my life.

NOW

My wolf lifted our leg, sending a dribble of urine onto the tree trunk. The acrid scent reached our nose, and I wished I could turn away from it, but I wasn't the one in the driver's seat. He lowered our face and shoved our nose straight in it, breathing deep. I swore he was doing it on purpose just to mess with me.

Dude, come on .

I could feel his amusement as he turned away, loping along his pre-determined route in a circle around the camp. We still had plenty reserved in the tank. There were dozens of trees just waiting for our unique signature. Logically I understood the need to mark our territory, to warn others to keep out, whether they be real wolves or shifters like us, but that didn't mean I had to enjoy it.

I'd been spending a lot of time in my fur lately. It was easier this way. Not only were my emotions dulled, almost like someone had taken sandpaper to the edges to smooth out the sharpest corners, handing over most of my brain space to base animal instinct, but I didn't have to make any decisions. And that meant not having to think too hard about what I was avoiding. Running and hiding wasn't new for me. I'd been doing it for years; except the reason for it has definitely shifted. Instead of running from a very real threat, now I was actively hiding from… babies.

Terrifying, I know, with all the giggling and the drooling.

Okay, so it wasn't the babies specifically I was hiding from, but all the emotions it triggered inside me. First, Shan and Brody, our pack's Alpha and Alpha Omega, had Malachi. It was nice to hold a baby again. It reminded me of when my siblings were younger, playing peek-a-boo and tickling their plump little bellies. But as Mal got older, the memories it brought up were harder to bear, less… cute.

My wolf shook his head, giving a sharp yip to bring me back. I know, I know , I told him. Sorry . He didn't much want to deal with those memories either. They always made us feel like we'd failed, and nobody liked to be reminded of their mistakes.

We paused at another tree, repeating the process of marking it, before looping back in a wider arc, following the creek. The water level was high. We'd been getting hit with a lot of storms lately, and the banks were soft, the soil slipping under our paws when we got too close .

All the extra rain had made the forest burst to life. The foliage was full and green, and I noticed a thicket of plump blackberries just waiting to be picked. I noted where it was so I could let Dylan know when I got back. He liked to make himself useful, though his skills around the camp were still being honed.

I felt strangely connected to Tristan's mate, because I could relate to him in a way I couldn't to the wolves who'd been born and raised in the Grim Wilds pack. Dylan had grown up in Fairhome, and his father had kept him so sheltered that he hadn't really known how to be a true panther. When he first got here, he couldn't start a fire, couldn't hunt, didn't know how to tend the garden. While the reason for his lack of knowledge was entirely different to mine, the outcome was the same.

Dylan took straight to being a parent, though , I thought bitterly, wincing. Maybe we would too, once we finally found our mate and started a family. I could only hope.

The second batch of babies had been even harder to deal with than Mal. Shan and Brody had Wynn, a second adorable dark-haired son. He went hand in hand with Tristan and Dylan's son, Pax. The two of them were only a week apart in age, and they hated to be separated for even a minute. Wynn would make his discontent known—loudly—until they were together again. They were so close at nine months old that sometimes they had sleepovers, just to give their parents a break. You'd think they were twins, although Pax looked nothing like Wynn. He had downy blond hair, and his eyes were…

Creepy , my wolf finished for me, shuddering. Yeah, he didn't like the way Pax watched us either.

They're not creepy, they're blue , I corrected, feeling a little guilty because I kind of agreed with him. Pax is just a baby .

Liar , he scoffed. Yeah, okay, my wolf was right. There was nothing about Pax that said he was just a baby. He wasn't just anything. He was born under a veil, destined to grow up to be our pack's next shaman, and the way he watched us… it was like he knew our deepest, darkest secrets and judged us for keeping them to ourselves. The other day I'd been babysitting the pups, and Pax was just staring at me for like two full minutes, and I'd finally said, "I know! I'll tell them, okay?" He wasn't old enough to speak yet, hardly even babbled, but he reached over and patted my hand as if offering me comfort. Then Wynn had shrieked, and the spell was broken. I'd laughed at myself, of course. They were just babies.

My wolf huffed, stopping at yet another tree, bringing me back to the present. We had almost finished our circuit of the camp, which meant I was almost out of excuses for being out here. The sun had begun to set, which meant dinner. They would expect me back.

I spent the next few minutes getting myself into the right headspace to be surrounded by all their lovey-dovey fated-mate bliss. Tristan's dad was here for a visit too, along with his small army of security guards. I almost missed the days when it was just us, a small ragtag group of survivors, just trying to live another day. At least when I was so focused on food and shelter, I didn't have time to think about how lonely I was. Now, even surrounded by my pack, I felt alone.

The last tree watered, a job well done, we were just about to turn back to camp when the wind shifted. My wolf's legs halted on the spot, claws digging into the soft duff beneath our paws. What…? I began to ask what the hell he was doing, when the scent registered in my brain.

Fuck .

Peanut butter and jelly, except it wasn't food at all. A warm flannel blanket, thick socks, candlelight, a hot bath, a tight hug… it was all of those things and more. It was everything that brought me comfort rolled into one.

Mate, mate, mate , my wolf chanted, turning toward the origin of the scent.

No! I snapped back, fighting him for control, but there was no way I could get him to listen, and he had me locked down hard. I may have wanted to find my mate, but not like this! A frisson of fear ripped through me as I picked up another note in the scent. Human .

There was no way fate could be so cruel… right? Everything was about to change.