Savannah

We loaded up in Jaxson’s truck and wound our way through Magic Side as a thousand thoughts swirled through my mind. My parents. My family. My wolf and the Dark God hanging over it all.

Twenty minutes later, we parked in a lot at the edge of the shore. A narrow channel separated us from a small, wooded island.

Jaxson didn’t explain, and I didn’t press him. I was too exhausted, so I just followed him over an ornate wooden and iron bridge that looked like it belonged in another time.

As I reached the middle of the bridge, I stopped short. Something had changed. The island, with its trees and flowers, was still the same, so what was it?

Then I heard it: stillness. A silence that was like your first breath of air after a dive. I glanced over my shoulder just to make sure the city was there.

It was—but the sound of traffic and screeching breaks and sirens were gone, as well as the eternal rumble of city life to which I’d acclimated since leaving Belmont.

It wasn’t that everything was completely silent—quite the contrary. Birds argued in the trees overhead, and the buzz of bugs filtered through the tall grasses. The leaves, which were beginning to turn orange, fluttered in the wind

But that was it. No city. No incessant gray noise.

A surprising spark of anger flickered in me. Why couldn’t the world be like this all the time?

“Welcome to the Garden of the Wolves,” Jaxson said, a soft smile tugging at the edge of his lips. “There’s a magical barrier around the island that keeps the city noise out. It’s a good place to reflect—my favorite place in our lands here.”

Breathing deeply, I nodded. “I think I needed this.”

I followed him along a path lined with wild, flowering weeds that were several feet tall and resplendent in purple, white, and yellow blossoms.

The path led to an old grove of trees. Tucked away, beneath the shade of the canopy, sat an ancient, weather-beaten mausoleum with a peaked roof, stone pillars, and a pair of ornate metal doors. Beneath the arch, the limestone blocks had been engraved with the name Laurent.

Jaxson sat on a little stone bench. “I come here when I need a quiet place to think or I want to be near my sister. Sometimes, I can almost imagine her listening.”

I sat down beside him. “We’ve never really talked about her, Jax.”

“We don’t need to,” he growled, then his expression softened. “This is just a good place to come to wrestle with the ghosts of our past.”

My parents. The promise of family in Colorado.

I sat with him quietly for a long time, savoring the soft sound of the birds and wind rustling the leaves. Savoring a single moment free from the Dark God and the chaos of the world falling apart outside.

I linked my arm through his. We were an island for each other in the midst of it all.

At last, Jaxson bowed his head. “When Stephanie died, my father lost it. He blamed me. And when he couldn’t handle the pain anymore and fell apart, I had to pick up the pieces. I never had any time to grieve her death, and eventually, too much time had passed. So I just come here, never certain of what I should say or how I should feel.”

I could see his grief, all bottled up. It was in the tension in his back and the coil of his muscles. And I saw it in every action he took—his rage, his anger, the ruthlessness with which he led the pack.

Haunted by guilt and grief and longing.

I placed my head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Jax.”

We sat like that for a long time until he cleared his throat. “I was never meant to be alpha. It wasn’t a path I chose, but one I had to take. That was Stephanie’s fate, not mine. She’d been trained for it. I was just her muscle. A thug.”

I sat up. “You’re not a thug, and you’ve done well. The pack is thriving.”

He gently squeezed my hand. “I know it is. But when I started out, I was in over my head. I only managed it because of Regina and Sam. You need to trust them, like I did. You don’t have to carry everything on your own. You’re part of a pack. They’ll stand by you, no matter what. We need to tell them.”

So this was what it was about: come clean, admit the monster that I was. I shook my head. “Regina wanted to string me up when we first met.”

He stood. “You won her over, Savy, and she’ll be your staunchest defender. You need to trust me in this.”

I rubbed my temples.

I was so tired. Tired of running. Tired of hiding the truth, first about my wolf, then about the prophecy.

You might like being the Lone Ranger, Wolfie whispered in my mind, but something tells me we’re going to need a fucking high-powered posse to bring down the Dark God. I’m with Jax, let’s tell the pack.

I’d told Casey and my aunt and Neve, but only because I had to. And because I wasn’t prophesized to betray them. The pack was different.

Hey, this way, they can’t say you didn’t warn them. Anyway, you’re going to crack if you hold on to this much longer.

That much was true. I stood and stretched. “Fine. We tell them. If they don’t freak, then we go from there.”

“Good.” Jaxson grinned. “They’re already waiting in the parking lot.”

What?”

“I figured I’d win you over. Let’s go.”

Cocky alpha.

You like him that way, my wolf observed.

Shut up, Wolfie.

Trepidation and irritation fought for dominance in my gut as I followed Jaxson back to the bridge, where indeed, Sam, Regina, and the loremaster were waiting.

Sam raised a six-pack that was already missing a few bottles. “Jax said to bring beer. What’s up?”

Regina pulled one out, popped the top, and handed it over. “Jax said things were fucked and that you needed our help. So here we are.”

Stunned, I took the beer and looked at each pack member. At least we were on the silenced side of the bridge and no one else would be able to hear.

Ready for a leap of faith? Wolfie asked.

Nope.

I took a long pull of the beer, and then I told them everything.

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