Chapter 12

Gavin

It was only dawn when the Eastpeak Alpha pulled up outside my cabin in his pickup truck. Even at this early hour, there were signs of the pack's stirrings: wisps of smoke curled from a number of chimneys into the pale gray morning. I suppressed a smile as I thought there'd be more than a few curtains twitching and tongues wagging when they spied the elusive Everett.

The mountain men. That's what folks down here call the Eastpeakers.

As the man climbed out of his car, my gaze brushed over Everett who was built like the mountain peak he and his pack lived on. Standing at an impressive six foot five and with his plaid shirt straining across his chest and shoulders he was a formidable-looking man. I strode down the steps of my cabin to greet him. "Everett, thanks for coming."

"No problem, Gavin," he said, shaking my hand with an iron grip.

As he loomed a good few inches over me, his impressive bulk made me feel like I should get to the gym and get lifting. I reminded myself that that was just the typical effect the Eastpeak folk had on you. It was said that the mountain air that Vana had blessed their pack with gave them the strength and rootedness of the mountains.

The Eastpeak Alpha had dirty blond hair and a neat, close-shaven beard. His sharp gray eyes were as pale as the sky at dawn. Like the low light, they seemed to hide much.

Damn, Gavin. You're starting to sound as suspicious as Aislin.

Speaking of whom, my best friend appeared from out of her cabin, clearly determined to join us.

I smothered a smile and turned to Everett as she came over. "You remember Aislin Mundy, my Betas' daughter?"

"Of course. It's nice to see you again," Everett said, engulfing Aislin's hand in his as they shook hands.

Aislin smiled. "You too, Everett." I noticed my friend was wearing a completely plain T-shirt. Something that hardly ever happened. I tucked this away to tease her about later. Clearly, she was dressing to impress.

As I showed Everett into the living room, Aislin went and got us all some coffee.

"Will Muriel be joining us?" Everett asked as he sat down on the leather couch.

I shook my head. "She's more of a night owl. If she's up later, I'll be sure to introduce you."

He nodded. "I quite understand. It's quite common for unicorns to be of nocturnal disposition."

When Aislin returned with mugs of coffee, she and I settled into the chairs by the fire, our attention quickly claimed by the Eastpeak Alpha.

I'd phoned him the day after we'd recovered Muriel from the dragons. I'd relayed what Muriel had told me about the Inkscale Clan and how she'd been on the run from them for a while and had come into our area in the hope of finding protection from Mythguard. I'd broached that I'd heard a rumor that Everett was the man who'd know how to get in touch with the organization.

He hadn't confirmed on the phone whether the rumors we'd heard that he was connected to the secret organization were true. But neither had he denied them. Instead, he'd suggested meeting in person.

Aislin had jumped to her usual conclusions and told me that he'd clearly been worried about relaying classified information over an insecure line. I noticed that my friend's knuckles were white as she clutched her mug with a tight grip as she tried to contain her excitement about one of the mysterious Mythguards sitting amongst us.

"I wanted to meet in person," Everett began, "as what I'm about to tell you is sensitive information."

"You mean classified?" Aislin piped up.

Everett's gray eyes skipped over her, making my usually bold friend flush. As he continued to hold her gaze as if they were having a staring conversation, she said, "Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt."

After taking a sip of coffee, Everett continued. "From what you said, Gavin, Muriel reckons that these Inkscales are after her because her horn makes her a valuable commodity to have for her healing magic. But the fact of the matter is, there are other more diabolical uses that can be achieved through harvesting a unicorn's horn."

Sickness roiled through my stomach at his words. "By harvesting, you mean killing?" I clarified.

"Yes," he affirmed. "To harness the power I'm talking about, one would kill the unicorn."

Aislin's expression tautened, and I knew, like me, she was thinking of the kind-hearted woman who'd become a welcome addition to our pack over the last few days. She was always willing to lend a helping hand and had sat with the young pups of the pack each night, telling stories.

"There are books that tell of how shifters can achieve another Lycan form by using a unicorn horn in a ritual," Everett explained.

"Another lycan form?" I asked. "But a shifter already has their beast form. Why would they need another?"

"This other Lycan form is more something that is between human and beast, monstrous in nature and capable of great destruction and magic. Much more than one's human or beast form could individually achieve," Everett explained.

His gray eyes assessed each of us. "I believe that that is what the Inkscale Clan is seeking to achieve by hunting Muriel."

I gritted my jaw, more determined than ever to keep Muriel safe and the dragons safely out of Grandbay lands.

When I asked him, "If Muriel and my pack should need Mythguard help, do you know how we'd contact them?" I asked Everett, my hazel eyes locking with his pale stare.

"Yes, I've already informed them," he said. "I'll be keeping them apprised of the situation. So, if she or you require more protection, all you have to do is contact me."

That was as good a confirmation that he was a part of the secret organization that we were ever going to hear. I thought Aislin might pee herself with excitement, but as I looked at her, I saw that she was too shocked to react.

Shortly after, I thanked Everett for his information, and I saw him out. Aislin managed to murmur a goodbye to him as he took his leave. I supposed speechlessness was better than the squealing I'd half expected she'd be afflicted by at the discovery that Everett was linked to Mythguard.

As I got back to her, I said, "I thought you were going to have an aneurysm."

She ignored me and said, "I was right." Her big brown eyes were as huge as an owl's. "Mythguard exists." I knew I was never going to hear the end of this.

Later that day, I had another meeting, one I was looking forward to even less. You'd think that a meeting in which you heard about unicorns being murdered to create human-beast monstrosities would be the downer of the day but … I had to meet Catrina.

I'd tried to be considerate and suggested we meet on neutral territory. I drove out to Pioneer Point, which wasn't Dalesbloom or Grandbay territory. Given that there was quite a bit of stuff for us to unpack, I thought it was wiser that we spoke somewhere where we didn't run the risk of being interrupted by any of her family or our packs.

I pulled up onto the Point and parked beside Catrina's truck. My stomach churned as I noticed Catrina had spread out a picnic rug overlooking the sweeping canyon below. She was settled on it, her long legs stretched out in a snug pair of jeans. She wore a low-cut crop top that showed off her bust and toned stomach.

As I got out of the car and wandered over to her, her full red lips lifted in a smile. Her long lashes accentuated her bright blue eyes, and she said, "We've spent a lot of good times here, haven't we? I thought it'd be nice to make the most of the good weather."

This had been one of the spots we'd come to when we'd first hooked up—before we'd chosen to share it with our families and packs. A flash of a few good nights in my truck, of my hands sweeping over Catrina's soft curves and kissing her plush lips, had my willpower diminishing for a nanosecond.

But I schooled my features into a neutral expression, not wanting to give away where my thoughts had gone. "I thought I made it clear that we had a lot to talk about, Catrina."

Her expression grew earnest, her eyes assessing me as she sat up, "We're adults. There's no reason why we can't be comfortable while we talk, is there?" She batted her eyelashes at me in feigned innocence.

As I sat down, I looked out on the canyon, forcing myself to say what I'd come here to. "We have had some good times, Catrina, but I need to be honest with you about how I'm feeling. Since the Moondream and what Vana showed me, I know I need to get to know Billie more."

Since discovering that Billie might be my old Betas daughter, Elizabeth, I'd barely been able to stop thinking about the matter. Undoubtedly, if Billie was actually Elizabeth Rathbone, I wanted to get to the bottom of how she'd come to be in David's care and what had happened to her real parents, Shannon and Tobi. But aside from that, since the night that Billie had been at Grandbay, I wanted to see her again.

Catrina's blue stare darkened, but then she let out a laugh. Her gaze heated, and she said, "Gavin, don't you see what a mistake that would be? You deserve so much better than her. And, besides, not all of Vana's suggestions are set in stone, and fated mates have been known to change, you know?"

My eyebrows drew together. "What do you mean?"

She lifted a shoulder nonchalantly. "When a fated mate dies, Vana has been known to present a different fated mate."

At the word "dies," my heartbeat stuttered, but I trained my features so as to hide how my stomach was knotted at what I thought she was suggesting. "You mean," I said, "that if Billie were to die, Vana would bestow another fated mate on me?"

The fact that my question brought a smile to her face sent a chill down my spine, but she seemed oblivious to my aversion as she pressed on. "Exactly. Besides, there's something I haven't told you about, a similar loose end that needs tying up." Her eyes grew serious as she explained, "It's why I understand what you're going through with Billie, believe me." Her mouth twisted into a frown. "I rejected my fated mate when Vana presented Joseph, one of the Dalesbloom pack, to me."

Surprise crashed through me. She'd never mentioned that she'd known who her fated mate was. She'd never told me about her packmate, Joseph, being who she was destined for. I'd always thought Catrina was outspoken and frank and that she let you see everything about her upfront. But this smarted of concealment and design. Suspicion started to swirl through me. What else hadn't I been aware of?

I kept my expression neutral as I wanted to hear her truths. "When was this?" I asked.

She coiled a strand of her silky hair around her finger. "I was only fourteen years old when I was saddled with the witless wonder, Joseph, in my Moondream."

"What happened between you?" I asked, alarmed by the contempt that I saw in her cold expression but needing to know what had happened.

"Joseph had the nerve to come to me and ask whether he could mark me," she said. "He declared that he'd always cared about me and that Vana had answered his prayers when she'd showed me to him in his Moondream." She scoffed. "That I should be lumped with someone like him was disgusting."

Her eyes glimmered. "So, I knocked him unconscious on a stump in the woods. Then, when he woke, I told him that if he ever came near me again or told anyone about me featuring in his Moondream, I'd kill him on that stump."

She smirked. "The next day, he told everyone he'd had his Moondream but didn't say anything about me," she said happily. "And I haven't said a word about him, obviously, to anyone … until now." Her gaze brushed me with meaning as if sharing this confession was romantic in some way.

"We could help each other," she said. "You could tie up my loose end, and I could tie up yours," she suggested with a chilling ease.

Incredulity spun through me. If one killed their fated mate, then they wouldn't be awarded another. But she'd calculated that if we were to do away with each other's fated mate, it would increase the chances of us becoming each other's fated mates.

Shaken to my core by the discovery of how conniving Catrina really was, repulsion beat through me. Suddenly, I needed to be as far away from these sordid schemes she was concocting as I could.

Scowling, I declared, "It's over, Catrina. The only thing you've done with your proposition is to make me question how I could ever have been with you in the first place."

Looking as if she'd been slapped, she quickly disguised her hurt and jumped to her feet. "Believe me, I'm beginning to wonder the same thing. After all, maybe you deserve such a weak mate, given that you've got great power within your grasp, but you'll never do the deed necessary to claim it."

Great power?

I stood up, tracing her taut expression and wondering about the meaning of the cryptic comment she'd just thrown at me. Then it hit me. Somehow, she knew about Muriel's horn and the power it could bestow.

"The deed necessary?" I asked, my voice shaking with rage. "So, you're proposing a third murder now?"

She flushed. I reckoned with anger rather than shame. She was angry with herself for alluding to things that she shouldn't have. She'd let her control slip and showed her cards.

"Is that what your father wants to do, Catrina?" I pushed. "Use Muriel's horn?"

Her face paled as if she knew she'd revealed too much, and she didn't say another word as she pulled up the picnic rug.

I grimly thanked Vana for revealing that I had enemies far closer to me than I'd ever known. My mind leaped over the facts as I watched Catrina, flustered and angry, wrench open her door, reverse, and then drive away, leaving me to mull over just how deeply David might be involved with the dragons.