Chapter 6

Gavin

I tore through the Dalesbloom woods in the early hours of the morning, zigzagging through the forest and out onto the valley's edge. The thundering water of the Gunnison River crashing deep below through towering rock formations matched the vehemence beating through me.

It wasn't until late afternoon, after burning off steam by chasing game through the forest, that I turned my steps toward the southernmost part of Dalesbloom territory. My panting was ragged, and the exhaustion beating through my wolf's frame forced me to take a breather.

In a section of the canyon where the drop was only ten feet, I clambered down the shelves to slake my thirst. I waded a little into the river's current, its cool touch soothing my hot flanks. Now that I'd stopped, thoughts swarmed me.

A flash of Billie's face, frozen with hurt, had my chest tightening. But rationally, I knew whatever the Moondream had shown us had been wrong. For one thing, Billie wasn't even in my Alpha Line. Generally speaking, fated mates came from the same Alpha Line. An Alpha Line was the blood that ran through the blood of those werewolves within a pack.

My pack belonged to the Grandbay Alpha bloodline. Our pack was said to originate from Gunnison's southmost lands, where the river widened, swelling into a great bay. Vana was said to have blessed the Grandbay lands with rich and crystal-clear waters. The waters through our land had always been abundant with fish, and although our pack was the one with the smallest amount of territory, what we held was rich and luscious.

Ever since the goddess Vana had chosen those first humans of Grandbay, my ancestors had continued that Alpha bloodline, both through shifters passing on that heritage to their pups and by, occasionally, anointing humans into our Grandbay bloodline. This method most frequently occurred when Vana revealed an untransformed human as a fated mate to a pack member. It was common for that human in time to want to belong to the pack and experience what their fated mate did, so becoming initiated into the bloodline.

I had never transformed a human into a shifter. But I knew it was a ritual specific to Vana that involved the sharing of the pack's bloodline with the initiate. I had a hazy memory from when I was a child of my mother and father standing under a bright full moon on Pine Creek Point and chanting the sacred words as they welcomed Helen, an unchanged human, into the pack so she could be with her fated mate, Matthew.

My thoughts darkened again.

It could be worse. At least Bille's a werewolf.

The bitter thought tainted my mind. So, what if Billie was one of my kind? She wasn't the type of shifter I'd imagined as my mate. There was a reason Catrina's pursuit of me had worked. I liked strong women. I pictured Billie again, her stooped shoulders and timid gaze. She had all the awkwardness of a newborn foal.

She was always so distant. She never seemed to involve herself much with the Hexens or the Dalesbloom Pack. I couldn't have a mate like that, one who didn't want anything to do with my pack. I was an Alpha. I didn't want a wallflower who would fade into the background. My mate had to be strong enough to stand at my side as Luna of Grandbay.

I supposed, if I was honest, I'd imagined my fated mate would be someone like my best friend, Aislin.

Not actually my best friend, Aislin … ewww.

We'd grown up together. We were as close as siblings in lots of ways, but I could always count on Aislin to call me on my bullshit and to give her opinion, even when it differed from mine.

Especially when it differed from mine.

Tired of my stagnant thoughts, I took one more deep drink from the river, and then I climbed the rock shelves back up onto the canyon, taking the path that took me toward Pine Creek Point and into my lands. My heart lurched as I thought about passing so closely to Pine Creek Point, but the only trail back toward my cabin carried me past the point.

My pace slackened again as my thoughts wound back to the past. It was where our pack's rituals had once been performed, but I'd long since moved the rituals to Castle Rock. My chest constricted as I thought of other memories Pine Creek held. I'd moved the pack's rituals from there and didn't go there much because … it was where my mum and dad had died.

My throat tightened as I remembered the fire blooming through the night. It had been four years ago, but on days like today, when I was tired and emotionally drained, it still felt too fresh. I'd seen the fire igniting the woods at the point from our cabin. I remembered how the emergency services had been called, and the helicopters had come to put out the wildfire sweeping along the canyon.

That wildfire had claimed my parents', Martin and Bria's, lives. My heart squeezed at their absence. That night, I'd become the Grandbay Alpha at only seventeen years old. Even though I loved my pack and our lands, the weight of that responsibility rested heavily on me.

Sometimes, I just wished I could go back to before that night, to just being a boy on the cusp of manhood who had his parents to make all the hard decisions for him. The deep ache I rarely allowed to show bruised my chest as I wished my mum and dad were still here.

The daylight began to diminish, and I realized the sun was already setting. My meandering pace had finally brought me to the boundary of the Dalesbloom pack lands.

But then, a pungent scent hit my nose: ozone and the acrid scent of fire.

For a moment, I thought the past was intruding on the present, and I'd conjured the scent from the memory of that awful night. But this scent was strong, and I knew it well. It had been branded into me the night my parents died.

A dragon's scent.

I quickened my pace, tracking the odor higher into the woods edging the valley of the canyon and crossing into Grandbay territory. Here, the Gunnison River opened up below, and ordinarily the fresh-water air cleansed my lungs. Instead, the whiff of ozone and sulfur mixed with smoke tainted the air.

Dragon shifters frequently picked up the ozone scent as they rode the currents so high up in Earth's stratosphere. As for the sulfur and smoke, their fire-breathing ways, unfortunately, were all too true, as the "wildfire" my parents died in attested to.

Fury seared through my veins. Because it hadn't been a wildfire. It had been caused by dragons. I'd long known that dragon shifters had been responsible for my parents' deaths. I'd spent months trying to track the culprits through the Gunnison Park lands, trying to find them and get answers about my parents' deaths. Had they been victims of senseless violence? Or was there more to their tragic deaths? My questions had gone unanswered as the offenders had evaded me.

Ever since that period, though, dragons have become my sworn enemy. Rage charged through me as I careered along the canyon ridge, continuing to track this trespasser. What was a dragon doing in Grandbay territory? My pack didn't have any alliances with them. I refused to entertain any alliances with their kind after the horror they'd unleashed on my life. The burning desire for vengeance that I'd avowed for my parents' deaths roared through me.

Dragon shifters were said to work well with us werewolves. They were our natural allies in Gunnison National Park. While the Black Canyon played home to a few of their lairs, we wolves made our homes in the woods and along the river banks of the canyon. But I refused to have anything to do with them. Not after the reckless fire they'd callously and recklessly unleashed.

As I came into Grandbay lands and into the woods of Pine Creek, the signs of that fire, even four years later, lay in the thinned trees and in the charcoal-scented soil. I ran onward, past the blighted trunks, continuing to track the dragon.

As the scent intensified, the logical part of me called to my wolf.

Return to the cabin. We need backup for this.

If we returned to Steele Cabin, we could muster more of the pack and hunt these dragons.

But as my wolf ripped along the canyon trail, following the ozone and sulfur scent, he refused to give up the chase. Rage was riding him hard as he contemplated that the scent we were on could belong to the very same creature that had stolen my parents from me. My wolf pummeled the dirt, and my claws churned it up as I imagined ripping into my enemy. My wolf's ferocity was as potent as the fire that had ripped along the creek, and it tore through me, overriding all reason as we raced instinctively toward our enemy.

I can't give up this hunt. I won't.

The air crackled with tension as I followed the trail deeper into Grandbay lands, my senses heightened and adrenaline coursing through my veins. The haunting memories of that night swirled around me like thick fog.

Then, as the sound of wingbeats grabbed my attention, only this moment mattered. A shiver zipped down my spine. I quickened my pace, my wolf urging me to the source of the scent. The woods around me seemed to close in, the shadows casting eerie shapes on the forest floor, dancing in the dying sunlight.

I see you.

My predator's eyes zeroed in on the trespasser. A massive dragon, its scales shimmering in the sunlight, perched on a rocky outcrop overlooking the canyon. Its wings unfurled as if it were preparing to take flight, but rage uncoiled within me. Fueled by vengeance and adrenaline, I leaped at the beast.

The dragon, caught off guard, swerved away from me. Then, he flicked his huge tail, toothed with lethal-looking barbs. His long, sinuous neck arced like a swan's as he turned to take me in. His bright orange eyes held the slit-like pupils of a reptile. His furious stare locked with mine.

My fur bristled with alertness as I crouched low, muscles tensed and ready to strike. The dragon let out a rumbling growl, the sound vibrating through the air like thunder. We circled each other warily, each waiting for the other to make the first move. The tension was palpable, and the forest held its breath in anticipation of the impending clash.

With a deafening roar, the dragon launched itself at me. I sprang forward, my jaws snapping at its flank, my teeth bared in a snarl. I sank my teeth into a section of tender skin beneath its front leg and reveled as I tasted blood.

The creature roared in pain, its claws slashing through the air. I leaped out of the way, avoiding its strike.

In my years of plotting vengeance against their kind, I'd read enough to know their weak points—the tender areas beneath the legs and their soft underbelly were what my teeth and claws were aiming for.

The dragon snarled and let out a burst of fiery breath. Flame licked the nearby trees, sending tendrils of smoke through the air.

Rage pounded through me as I feared for my lands. It was my duty as Grandbay Alpha to protect them and my people. I hated these reckless fire-breathing monsters, who I knew would burn down acres of these lands without any remorse. I needed to get this beast out of my lands. Urgency raked through me, commanding me to destroy this creature.

The dragon came at me again, raking its talons through the air. I dodged, but this time, his claw caught my shoulder. A searing pain coursed through my shoulder, shooting down my right leg when my paws hit the ground.

Just then, the sound of more wingbeats drumming the air swallowed my attention. Instinctively, I backed away as I observed another huge dragon arriving on the canyon's edge. Then, as if a storm were being whipped up, the air stirred with more movement. My eyes drank in another two sets of wings as a second pair of dragons descended toward the canyon edge. One of them let out an almighty roar that resounded along the sharp edges of Black Canyon.

Panic thumped through my chest, and even my wrathful wolf, with his thirst for vengeance and the taste of blood, realized he needed to turn tail. I sprinted away from the beasts, hating the way the acrid scent of blood and smoke marred the fresh pine air.

But, even wounded, determination surged through me. This wasn't one rogue creature who had strayed into our territory. I would gather the strength of my pack and push out these vile creatures from our lands.