Are you ready for the grand finale of the Rune Wolf series? You’ll definitely want to read this one in order, so don’t keep reading until you’re caught up! 

***

Chapter 1

Infiltrating a corporate office felt a lot like my old gig hunting werewolves. So I knew the drill: Gather intel from a distance, charm the sentry (or in this case, secretary), then greet the boss with that perfect mixture of self-deprecation and awe.

Only this time, the job was more personal. Because somewhere in this building, someone seemed to be tapping into outpack magic in a way that made my matebrand itch beneath my skin.

“You can go in now, hun,” the leggy blonde told me after a forty-minute heel-cooling session outside the big guy’s office. Based on the gatekeeper’s appearance—gleaming hair, perfectly pressed blouse, and stilettos that could double as weapons—I guessed she had an aging boss trying to reaffirm his waning virility. Which didn’t mean I should underestimate either of their abilities.

“Thanks,” I replied, heading toward the heavy wooden door of the inner office while checking on my backup. Or rather, on both of my backups.

First I tapped the mic hidden at my throat, knowing Gabi would hear the thump that resulted. “Noted,” my mentor-turned-enemy-turned-employee murmured through the tiny speaker nestled into my right ear canal. I didn’t trust her, but bringing Gabi along was part and parcel of my new gig as a Council member.

None of the rules, however, said I couldn’t also include a more dependable ally on the sly. “In place?” I asked Orion silently via our mate bond, feeling the warmth of our connection as I did so.

“I’m where you parked me.” His deep rumble was only slightly annoyed, the impression of cramped arms and legs plus the chatter and clink of a coffee shop traveling toward me along with his words. “Which is too distant to help if Dr. Kingsley turns out to be a territorial werewolf.”

“Unlikely,” I countered even though going in blind wasn’t my favorite MO either. Nothing I could do about that, however, when the organization I was infiltrating had been oddly secretive about both its founder and its objectives. The only information we had came from a drunken employee’s chatter in a bar last week.

Kingsley Enterprises, the employee claimed, was working on something top secret. Its source of energy? A big patch of empty desert that werewolves happened to call the outpack.

“You need help with that door?” the secretary asked even though there was absolutely nothing confusing about the knob in front of me. Looked like I’d delayed too long.

“Nope.” I bit my lip, which tended to endear myself to other women while also appealing to executives for an entirely different reason. “Nerves.”

Then, without further prompting, I turned the knob and stepped through to find that Dr. Kingsley wasn’t even close to what I’d expected.

The boss wasn’t a werewolf—that much, at least, was going according to plan. But she wasn’t a man either. She stood gazing through a window that faced due west, our third-floor elevation high enough that we could see past other buildings and toward what I knew to be outpack but what would look to her like open desert. Her intent interest in the emptiness gave me a moment to replace my faulty assumptions with facts.

Salt-and-pepper hair was twisted up into a no-nonsense bun, not even a single wisp escaping to lie upon a neck that looked tenser than I would have expected given her body’s soft edges. Her white lab coat made her medium height formless, adding to the protective coloration of middle age. And yet, in stark contrast to her forgettable exterior, her gaze when she turned to face me held the same desperate hunger I’d seen in shifter mothers separated from their children during Council raids.

Then I blinked and all I saw was a smart businesswoman. “Elspeth Darkhart,” she greeted me, using the surname I’d put on my application and had used on multiple other undercover gigs also.

“Dr. Kingsley,” I answered, holding out one hand for what most humans would have considered the maximum appropriate contact under the circumstances.

Only, Dr. Kingsley eschewed the offered handshake. Instead, she stepped in a little closer and ran one finger across my tattooed forearm. Her touch was clinical and inquisitive all at once.

In response, my entire body quivered, something that shouldn’t have happened due to contact with someone other than my mate. In Orion’s case, the effect would have made sense since the matebrand tattoos on our skin were created by our commitment to each other and were powered by the outpack near which my mate had his home. Dr. Kingsley, in contrast, was a stranger with no obvious relationship to me or the matebrand.

I only realized I’d begun leaning toward her when Orion’s voice erupted in my head. “Do you need help?” His tone was adamant, as if he’d spoken more than once while I was lost in Dr. Kingsley’s gray eyes.

“No.”

I hadn’t meant to speak aloud, and the effect of my mistake was immediate. Dr. Kingsley jerked her hand back into her own personal space, wrapping her entire arm around her belly as if to prove she wouldn’t touch me again. “I’m so sorry. I’m not sure what came over me…”

Lie, her scent reported, the notes of deliberate deception not quite covered up by harsh laboratory antiseptics. And wasn’t that interesting?

“Don’t worry about it.” I summoned a sparkling smile and settled myself into a love seat by the window. It was time to remember why I’d come here. “Let me tell you about the lack of security in your business software.”

It’s remarkably easy to talk yourself into a job correcting problems you’ve created. To that end, I’d primed the pump last week by talking Gabi into inserting a backdoor into Kingsley Enterprises’ system. She hadn’t gotten far, but the evidence of her work was obvious, especially after the organization had been made aware of the fact through a taunting email.

To cut a long story short, when I suggested a hands-on interview beefing up the company’s cybersecurity, I wasn’t surprised that Dr. Kingsley readily said yes.

Which meant that ten minutes after meeting the woman in charge, I’d been granted a temporary office of my own in which I could finish the task Gabi had started. The icing on the cake? I didn’t have to maintain a constant stream of patter while I worked since Dr. Kingsley excused herself soon after setting me up.

Unfortunately, the USB drive Gabi had programmed to dig out the organization’s files didn’t do the trick.

“Have you inserted the rubber ducky?” Gabi demanded in my ear while I was still trying to figure out whether I’d forgotten any of her instructions.

“It’s plugged in and the computer is whirring,” I replied even as my unofficial backup—Orion—chimed in silently via the mate bond.

“Are you sure you’re safe? Dr. Kingsley showed an abnormal interest in the matebrand.”

“Our ink is eye-catching,” I countered, even though the matebrand chose that moment to writhe beneath my skin again, reaching toward the office where I’d left Dr. Kingsley. Something about her made the outpack magic restless.

“I’m not getting anything yet,” Gabi said, interrupting my thoughts. “I’m going to walk you through checking to make sure the computer is connected to the internet…”

“Quiet,” I interrupted, turning my head so one ear faced the door behind me. Because I’d heard something very faintly, far enough away so non-shifter senses would have missed it. The murmur had been indecipherable while Gabi was speaking, but now I caught the tail end of Dr. Kingsley’s order:

“…code red lockdown,” she snapped, her formerly gentle voice turned sharp and commanding.

Orion’s tone wasn’t much different when he barked “Get out of there” via our mate bond, his alarm flooding my body.

The computer was still whirring, which meant the thumb drive’s program needed more time to work its magic. But I snatched the USB out anyway, its plastic warm against my skin. “Aborting,” I warned Gabi, listening to her swear and wanting to do the same as soon as I looked at the door for the first time.

Because Dr. Kingsley, I now realized, must have subtly angled her body to place it between me and the knob, a calculated move I should have noticed. Turned out the room wasn’t only windowless, it also boasted a door that locked from the outside.

I reached the barrier in two long strides, my boots silent on the industrial carpet. I hoped I was wrong, but when I tried to turn the knob I had no luck.

It looked like I wasn’t the only one here who’d considered herself clever. The room I’d been so glad to have to myself a moment earlier had turned into a trap.

***

Chapter 2

My side of the knob lacked even a keyhole, so there was no way to pick the lock. I could have taken the door off its hinges, but that would have been loud and would have taken time I didn’t have to spare. Or at least so I assumed from Dr. Kingsley’s recent command.

“If you abort now, we may get nothing.” Gabi’s voice in my ear was harsh. Muscle memory from training under her almost turned my feet back toward the computer.

Almost, but not quite. “The decision has been made,” I countered, drawing upon my new role as her boss to turn my own voice even harsher than hers had been. Council authority still felt like ill-fitting, borrowed clothing, but Gabi was the one who’d taught me to fake it til I made it. Now, I fiddled with a switch hidden beneath my shirt collar and looped my mate fully into the conversation. “Orion, your mic is hot.”

“Orion?” Gabi’s surprise quickly transitioned into fury, her breath hissing through the earpiece as she lost track of her usual measured speech. “Just what we need. An alpha werewolf to turn a snafu into a bloodbath. It isn’t Council policy to…”

“I’m on my way,” my mate rumbled, interrupting Gabi mid-rant and soothing my nerves at the same time. “ETA ten minutes. In the meantime, let’s get you out of there.”

The burst of adrenaline that had struck when I realized the door was locked segued into anticipation. Because Orion and I had practiced this. Well, not unlocking a door specifically, but rather using the matebrand when the two of us weren’t in physical proximity. All it took was a unity of purpose that our frequent separations made me crave.

Now, when I placed my hand on the knob and closed my eyes, it was easy to imagine Orion’s larger palm settling over my fingers, his skin warmer and just a little rougher than mine. The sensation of contact was very real, so much so that I smelled his sweet cactus-flower aroma wafting over my shoulder. The ghost of his heat pressed into my back, his long body dwarfing my own smaller frame.

Pleasure and exhilaration spun through me. Memories of the few blissful moments we’d carved out of our very separate lives to spend together settled into my bones. My experiences and Orion’s experiences were mirror images of each other. Merging, they formed the connection required to tap into outpack magic and wake up the matebrand, our shared power building like static before a storm.

Priming complete, we pushed our request into the tattoos marking our skin, the tattoos Dr. Kingsley had touched with such interest. The runes answered with a tingle, a sparkle of light…

Then something clicked within the doorknob. This time, when I twisted, the door swung open without so much as a creak.

“She’s out,” Orion informed Gabi, keeping her in the loop even though there was no love lost between the two of them. We both knew that Gabi was using my cell phone to track my exact location within the building, a digital leash that would also let her guide me through a route unlikely to result in physical confrontation. And since I couldn’t risk speaking aloud now that I wasn’t behind a closed door, it was handy that our mate bond allowed Orion to see through my eyes and hear my thoughts.

In other words, my evacuation would require teamwork between two people who hated each other. “Turn left,” Gabi said, words as sharp as broken glass. She was furious with me for bringing Orion into an operation that was supposed to be confined to the Council. Yet she continued doing her job.

And Orion carried out his role even more perfectly. “Elspeth is in a stairwell heading down,” he relayed to Gabi, speaking as gently as when he taught pack children how to care for the garden behind his house. He never chastised them, not even when they yanked out vegetables instead of weeds. And that technique worked just as well on Gabi as it did on kids.

Because her tone had turned businesslike again by the time she told me: “Go straight across the basement.”

The vast space in front of me was unlit now that I’d left the stairwell, but my shifter eyes could make out something large looming in the center. A boiler system, maybe?

I must have paused because Gabi demanded, “Keep moving.”

So much for the soothing effects of Orion’s voice.

“I’m three minutes out,” my mate promised, silently this time. Anticipation of being in his presence overrode my curiosity about the maybe-boiler in a way Gabi’s command hadn’t. I pushed through the unguarded door Gabi had told me formed an exit to a little-used corner of the parking lot. Light shocked my eyes and I didn’t wait for the world’s over-exposure to return to normal before breaking into a jog toward my car.

I did, however, slow down long enough to pull my phone out of my pocket with a grimace. Because the device was vibrating in my hand even though I’d set it to silent. Which meant this wasn’t a call but rather a summons.

“How close are you?” I asked Orion, hating the way my finger slipped the key into my car’s ignition even though I wanted nothing more than to sit here and cool my heels until my mate tore into the parking lot.

But the Council was convening. Ignoring their summons proved impossible when Julius’s demand from weeks ago still thrummed through my dreams:

“You will swear on the outpack that your binding to the Council is more than a mere formality. You will leave this clan you think you’re part of and come work with me.”

At the time, I’d agreed to his terms in order to save dozens of pack mates’ lives. Now, my body shook with the urge to do as my oath demanded.

Even Orion’s voice, soft inside my mind, couldn’t take my hands off the steering wheel. “I’m almost there,” he murmured. “Sixty seconds.”

He was so close. I tried to hold out. Bit the inside of my cheek and hoped the pain would distract me from…

I was driving back to my motel room to attend the upcoming video chat when Orion’s car passed me on the opposite side of the road, heading toward the spot where I’d recently been.

The meeting countdown on my phone was almost at zero by the time I reached the motel lot. I closed the car door with a slam that did nothing to ease my frustration then speed walked toward my room just as the call connected.

A cluster of video-chat boxes popped onto my screen, one per Council member. Julius’s image was pinned at the top, my eyes sticking to his face the same way I used to watch wolves peer at overbearing alphas. The aftereffects of my oath were a doozy. It took an effort to tear my attention away and consider who else was online.

“You’re flushed,” Julius observed, his ability to read me reminding us both of our history. He’d raised me as a weapon aimed at my own kind. I’d fought so hard to break free of that official capacity before being roped back in against my will.

And yet, it was the near miss with Orion that made my stomach wobbly, prompting me to make excuses that I regretted the moment they left my mouth. “Five minutes was insufficient time to extract myself from an important mission…”

“Save it.” Julius’s eyes flicked from side to side, likely assessing the other video-chat boxes. “We’re missing a member. Does anyone have information on Montrose?”

Even as Julius asked, a final box was already popping into existence. The Council member I’d come to count on for his inability for subterfuge came into view, a smear of something green streaked across the side of his face. “Sorry, sorry! I was feeding the baby. Paulie-Bear needs to go down for his nap in ten minutes. Can we keep this brief?”

It had been strange the first time I met with the Council long distance. Previously, I’d always been called into their official chamber, complete with rotating stage and brilliant spotlights. There, Council members had seemed high above my mere mortal status, looming shadows with the power of gods. Online, in contrast, their humanity was on full display.

“We all have lives,” agreed Lindley, his precisely trimmed salt-and-pepper mustache twitching above thin lips as he leaned forward. “Couldn’t this wait until our next scheduled meeting?”

“No.” Julius’s single word quieted the chatter. Although there was no formal pecking order within the Council, it was always apparent that he, as their founder, stood at its head. “Elspeth, report.”

The oath I’d sworn forced my lips open, my own image on the screen in front of me showing the rune that denoted my status as Council member glowing beneath my chin. Neither the oath nor the rune, however, forced me to tell the Council every single detail. I left out Orion’s involvement and my own guesswork about Dr. Kingsley’s interest in the matebrand.

I did, however, admit to having infiltrated Kingsley Enterprises without running the mission by the Council first. After all, I was pretty sure that was the reason this meeting had been convened.

“And what was your motivation for chasing this particular red herring?” Julius demanded in the same tone he’d used a decade ago when taking me to task for bad study habits. “It wouldn’t, by any chance, have to do with the proximity of Kingsley Enterprises to a certain alpha?”

I couldn’t honestly say that the chance of spending an evening with Orion hadn’t factored into my calculations. But I could make my face smooth when I countered, “I have a hunch this is much more than a red herring. If I’d asked, you would have said no and we would have ended up going in blind at a later date. So I’m begging forgiveness, rather than permission.”

Julius smiled. He’d taught me that line, I now recalled with a wince.

Meanwhile, Lindley was scoffing. “Interfering in human affairs due to a hunch is bad form,” he complained. “I’d like to reopen the issue of a wolf serving on this Council. How are packs supposed to bow to our impartiality when one of us has obvious personal connections to certain factions?”

Factions meant the sister I hadn’t seen in weeks, the children whose lives I’d stepped out of when they were just starting to trust me to be there for them. Their disappointed faces haunted my dreams.

No wonder I once again broke my personal rule of speaking as little as possible in front of Julius. “I haven’t visited my mate’s pack since becoming part of this Council.”

Lindley once again leapt on my wording. “Her mate’s pack. That right there disqualifies her from serving.”

I would have loved to be disqualified. Disqualification would negate my oath to Julius and let me spend time with Orion’s pack mates, would let me stroll through the garden where the kids had planted sunflowers and sleep in my mate’s arms. It would remove the endless string of complications that arose out of having to dance around Council and alpha responsibilities in order to enjoy tiny moments together.

But my oath forced me to work against my own best interests now. “The entire reason the Council was able to step back out of the shadows,” I observed, words rising like bile up my throat, “is because I’m now a member of this organization. My presence lent you an authority you lost through your own actions.”

“This is a moot point,” Julius interrupted. “Removing a Council member requires a unanimous decision, which this body lacks.”

A flurry of nods followed. The last time we’d voted on my removal, Julius had refused to budge. Of course he had. Even as a supposed equal rather than as his underling, my oath meant that I toed every line he drew.

Which explained him backing me up. So why did my vision go swimmy? Why did my legs weaken?

The cell phone slipped from my fingers and landed with a muted thud on the carpet as I grabbed onto the wall to hold myself upright. Then, right in front of the Council, fur burst out of human skin.

***

Chapter 3

Bones ground together as my wolf erupted without permission. My spine arched and shortened, every muscle twitching as they found a new shape. Pain lanced through me due to the speed of the shift, but worse was the fear thrumming beneath the agony.

What was happening? I’d never lost control of my body like this.

Whatever the cause, I wasn’t the only one affected. Via our mate bond, I could feel Orion’s transformation slamming into him just as hard as mine had done. His massive wolf form was cramped behind the steering wheel, traffic out the windshield suggesting he’d hastily pulled over where any human could see what they shouldn’t see.

But Orion wasn’t thinking about exposure. His entire being focused upon Maya’s desperate cry: “Help!”

Backing up the single word, his sister’s memory traveled down the siblings’ pack bond then our mate bond to give context to the plea. Not so long ago, Maya had run at the head of the pack, searing heat of the late afternoon sun not quite infiltrating her thick fur as she assessed the boundary line’s location. Skimming along the outpack edges always boosted pack bonds, so runs like this were frequent activities. Routine and danger-free…at least when Orion was home and able to see the magical glow of boundary.

Maya didn’t boast that alpha ability. But after a lifetime of similar outings, she was confident about where not to step. Today, when a frolicking youngster flirted with trespassing, she barked out a warning suffused with her borrowed alpha authority.

The weight of her command should have yanked the youngster back without his permission. Instead, everything went wrong all at once.

The youngster’s paws skidded on loose sand and he stumbled across the boundary line rather than retreating from it. At almost the same moment, wolves erupted from behind nearby rocks to create a wall of bristling fur.

These weren’t Orion’s wolves. Instead, they were neighbors turned enemies. They formed a solid barrier that halted Orion’s clan in its tracks while, behind them, their alpha shifted upward. Fury radiated off his smaller-than-average body as he confronted Maya.

“You call yourself allies?” Quade twisted the final word. “I call you invaders!”

Maya gained her human skin just as quickly as Quade had, if with less bluster. “Let’s all slow down a little,” she countered. “Let tempers cool.”

Her wolves retreated at her signal, flowing backward like a retreating wave while she assessed the situation. One accidental step shouldn’t have led to this level of outrage. And technically, Quade’s pack had been hiding on Orion’s side of the boundary anyway, so they were the ones in the wrong.

Maya didn’t mention that last point directly, but she did allude to it when she added: “How about we call it even?”

Unfortunately, Quade wasn’t interested in subtleties. He’d shifted back to fur, his pack surging forward in attack formation. Through our mate bond, I felt Orion’s horror as Maya threw herself between enemy wolves and youngsters who never should have been in danger. Her desperation echoed down their pack bond along with a repetition of her plea: “Help!”

“Go,” I told my mate, infusing the silent word with grim certainty. His pack needed him more than I did.

The sound of his tires squealing in a U-turn echoed in my head as I fought back into my own human body. I was yanking sweat-dampened clothes back into place and trying to figure out a way to follow Orion when Gabi burst into my motel room.

“Boundary dispute,” she bit out.

***

Keep reading in Outpack!

Book two in the Rune Wolf series will be hitting ereaders in just over two weeks. In case you can’t wait, I’ve included an excerpt below.

But don’t dive down there yet! You’ll definitely want to read Matebranded before you give this one a try.

Already read book one? Then I hope you enjoy this sneak peek into Elspeth’s second adventure.

***

​Chapter 1

Infiltrating enemy turf was hard enough without a magical tattoo doling out dating advice. Especially when the matebrand in question seemed singularly uninterested in my survival. If anything, it appeared intent upon getting us caught.

Or so we realized soon after Orion and I crept down the deserted alley toward a darkened high-rise. According to his pack mates’ recon, a single guard patrolled inside, following a predictable loop that should have kept him well away from our entrance point. At least until—

Movement flashed in my peripheral vision. A man stepped out onto the sidewalk a mere fifteen feet from us, his crisp uniform and billed cap identifying him as building security. Unhurried, he lifted a cigarette to his lips with one meaty hand while the other sparked his lighter. A smoke break. Utterly routine…except for the faint sheen of electricity crackling through the air.

Magic. The matebrand must have nudged the guard’s habits to draw him out here, and I had a feeling I knew precisely what it would take for that amorphous sentience to let the deviation drop.

Still, Orion and I tried to get out of our predicament the easy way. We froze, counting on the guard’s human vision missing us in the near total darkness.

No such luck. He tensed and began scouring the shadows with slow, measured sweeps of his gaze. Which was a problem since there was no reason for anyone to be lurking in this deserted side street at this predawn hour. As soon as the guard saw us, he’d forget about his smoke break, remember his job, and investigate.

Especially if the matebrand manipulated him yet again.

Sure enough, the tattoos on my forearm itched, displaying the faintest hint of a power that had been much more vibrant before Orion broke our mate connection weeks ago. Hairs came erect along my nape just as they’d done three other times at three very inopportune moments. The guard took the first small step in our direction…

…And I gave in to the matebrand’s insistence. I giggled, swaying as if I was drunk before grabbing onto Orion’s arm for support. In response, the ink beneath my fingers subtly rearranged itself to accentuate the hardness of his muscles. My own ink tingled in reaction, the former itch transitioning to a yearning.

I should allow the tattoos on my skin to reconnect with those on Orion’s. We could be matebranded again. It would be so easy to give in to the inevitable…

Not happening. Not when reconnection meant the matebrand would once again assume control over our lives.

Gritting my teeth, I ruthlessly severed the tendril of my own craving, listening rather than watching as the guard’s boots scuffed fractionally closer. He was still suspicious, which meant…

“Ready for another round of enforced proximity?” Orion’s rumbled words carried the slightest edge of a purr. As he spoke, he swiveled us both around until the irregular bumps of a parking meter bit into my hip. His broad back shielded us from view while also hiding the fact that we weren’t actually pressed front to front the way the matebrand wanted.

I froze, imagining angling my body just the slightest bit to wipe away the unwanted empty space between us. My cheeks heated as I breathed in the cactus-flower aroma wafting off Orion in waves. Flower petals seemed to brush my tongue as I murmured, “You’ve been doing your homework. Getting caught up on all the romance tropes?”

Then I lost track of words as his hand rose to cup the air around my cheek. From the guard’s perspective, it would look like a caress. It felt like a caress, air currents providing the contact Orion wouldn’t.

I shivered, forgetting our reasons for keeping our distance, wishing Orion wasn’t so meticulous about granting me personal space. He didn’t close that final centimeter between us however. Because he refused to give the matebrand leverage until and unless I overtly told him I was ready to take that step.

I wasn’t ready. Still, it was hard not to focus on the sweet parts of our lost connection with Orion’s skin so close to my skin. Despite every rational reason to keep my distance, I swayed in closer, drawn by the flutter of Orion’s breath against my lips as he replied to a question I’d forgotten asking.

“My sister gave me half a dozen bodice rippers,” he rumbled. “That hotel being almost entirely full last week now makes so much more sense.”

I named the trope absently while letting my head drift sideways. “Just one room. A classic for a reason.”

In lieu of further words, his hand feathered down to trace the curve of my neck, still keeping a buffer of air between us yet managing to stroke my nerve endings regardless. The patterns he wove above my skin might have been tattooed there if we’d let the matebrand continue expanding across our bodies. The tingle of awareness that spun through me, though, had nothing to do with the matebrand and everything to do with the undeniable chemistry between Orion and myself.

Chemistry so sublime I didn’t realize the guard was gone until retreating footsteps were cut off by the thunk of a metal door shutting. Only then did Orion mutter something I couldn’t quite make out before stepping back and taking the cactus-flower aroma with him.

“You’re sure you want to do this?” he asked at a more audible register.

For a split second, I thought he meant denying the matebrand’s formation. For a split second, I considered saying no.

Then I remembered what we’d come here for. “I’m sure that if we don’t break in, Celeste will do it herself.” I answered, my voice huskier than it should have been.

Strong and solid as always, Orion nodded. “Alright then. Back to work.”

***

Ever since my adopted sister tore apart her father’s study and found out about her shifter heritage, she’d searched for confirmation of her guess that other werewolves were being similarly experimented upon. To that end, she’d returned to Julius’s mansion to gather evidence while I’d done the same as best I could from the outside.

Her involvement had driven me crazy. Celeste couldn’t shift the way I could. She was a kindergarten teacher, for crying out loud. She didn’t need to put herself in harm’s way by returning to the place where we’d both been raised as unwitting lab animals.

“I can do more where I’m at,” Celeste had rebutted when I’d tried to suggest she move in with either Orion’s pack or my Aunt Vega’s. “You live your life and I’ll live mine.”

Her response had hurt and I wasn’t so sure she hadn’t meant it to. The memory of my past actions sat like a wall between us, and I’d be lying if I didn’t say my goal here tonight was as much to remove that wall as it was to save shifter kids I wasn’t even sure existed.

As if he felt my inner turmoil down our non-existent mate bond, Orion’s hand reached toward mine then retreated without touching. Most likely, he smelled my roiling emotions. Which was a good reminder that I needed to get my head on straight.

So I pushed away thoughts of sisters and mate bonds and I skimmed my gaze across the facility that we’d determined was the most likely possibility for caging experimental werewolves. The top floors were rented out to various businesses for office space while an extensive basement had been soundproofed then never put to any obvious use. And yet, a paper trail suggested food was delivered here at regular intervals. Council members came and went occasionally. The security levels were considerably higher than for any other building on the block.

There was only one way to find out whether we were right about what was inside.

“Ready?” I asked Orion.

“Ready,” he answered. Then he guarded my back as I padded down rough concrete steps to a door far less modern than the one the guard had come out of. This was our saving grace—the Council had apparently decided on stealth over effectiveness. Thirty seconds with my lock picks and the door swung open into pitch dark.

The space was dark but not devoid of sensation. A dank, musty tang washed over us as Orion and I padded inside. Then the door to the street thudded shut behind our backs.

I reached for my flashlight. But before I could flick it on, an overhead light flared, brilliantly illuminating our surroundings. At which point, I discovered our first mistake.

I’d assumed if that outer door was easy to get through, we were home free. But the Council left nothing to chance.

Instead, we appeared to be stuck inside a vestibule with the only viable options being retreat or passing through a seemingly impenetrable inner door. There was no obvious lock, no keypad even. Just biometric scanners that would currently be powered off—I hoped—and the possibility of caged werewolf children on the other side.

For the first time, I let myself imagine what those caged children might be like. Had they been brought up to believe their lupine halves were distasteful, twisted just like I’d been into reviling the very essence of their beings? Or perhaps they’d been genetically manipulated like Celeste and had never managed a single shift.

I only realized I was shivering when Orion spoke my name. “Elspeth?” His voice was more vibration than sound.

“I’m fine,” I lied, keeping my volume just as quiet as his had been. “Call it in.”

His werewolf senses meant he could taste the bitterness in the air, so it was no wonder Orion growled softly. Still, he didn’t argue. Instead, he pulled out his phone and typed in a request to his hacker contact.

One moment later, the lights went out. Pitch darkness, silence…then the distant hum of a generator springing to life.

“You’re sure this is a good idea?” I asked. “If we start an electrical fire, the kids…”

“It will be a very small flame,” Orion promised just like he’d done the first time we discussed this. “And our contact is certain that there’s a fail-safe to open all locks in the event of a fire.”

Nothing happened though. Well, nothing other than the barely present scent of something burning seeping through invisible cracks around the inner door. That plus the faintest whoop of a smoke detector nearly entirely muffled by soundproofed walls.

Our plan wasn’t going to work. Celeste’s face would pinch with the same disappointment that had colored her voice last month when I’d prioritized strangers above her students. She’d think I hadn’t really tried. That I didn’t value what she valued. That our bond as sisters was irreparably broken, just like the mate connection that Orion and I had lost.

No, I couldn’t let that happen. I needed to come up with another way in. I needed to…

The door clicked open. Which would have been welcome if evidence of a larger-than-expected flame hadn’t immediately flowed through the opening to fill the vestibule. Illuminated by the dim glow of backup lighting, a hallway stretched out before us full of haze reddened by LEDs. Roiling smoke was already so thick it burned my eyes and seared my lungs, but that wasn’t the worst of our problems.

Amid the haze, the silhouette of a figure nearly as large as Orion blocked the doorway. “Welcome,” a male voice intoned, “to the underworld.”

***

​Chapter 2

Smoke messed with my ability to smell, but I would have caught a tinge of fur if this man was lupine. I was sure of it.

Nearly sure of it.

Beside me, Orion shook his head very slightly. No, he didn’t think the stranger was a shifter either. Which left a few possibilities, the most likely of which was—Council employee.

Still, I would have given the stranger benefit of the doubt if the door behind us hadn’t opened at that very moment. “I know you told me to wait,” Celeste said as she breezed through and shut herself into the smoky interior alongside us, “but you’re running behind schedule and…oh. Who are you?”

The stranger’s voice dropped, turning seductive. “Finnegan. And you are?”

For one long moment, my sister just stared at him. She’d be taking in what I’d seen already, but I had a sinking suspicion she was spinning those same physical features into a very different narrative.

Because Finnegan was tall and lean, with a messy mop of dark hair that fell into his eyes and gave him a boyish charm despite the fact he otherwise appeared very close to my age and Celeste’s—mid-twenties. His tailored suit made no sense for a man woken in the middle of the night but did an astonishingly good job of emphasizing corded muscles. And the dark trench coat layered on top was currently open at the front in a way that framed him to full advantage. Only the faint sheen of sweat along his hairline hinted at any discomfort with the heat and smoke that currently had me stifling a cough.

No wonder my sister’s voice turned husky. “I’m Celeste. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Curling through the smoke, I caught the sickly sweet scent of Celeste’s arousal. Caught something less clearcut from the stranger, although the intensity of his gaze upon her person suggested my sister’s interest was very much returned.

I didn’t like this one bit.

Especially when the stranger—Finnegan—took a step forward. Celeste’s hand stretched out as if she intended him to shake or kiss it, even though he might just as easily grab her wrist and yank her off balance, turning her into a hostage…

Orion and I slammed into each other in our haste to form a barrier between the stranger and my sister.

“Keep your distance,” Orion growled.

I expected Finnegan to growl back. If he’d been a wolf, he would have been dominant. Something about his stance made me sure of that.

Instead, he lifted one arm to reveal what had been hidden behind his trench coat—a garbage bag full of clothing “Is this a rescue or isn’t it? I’m packed and ready to go.”

I frowned, rearranging my assumptions, or trying to over the blaring alarms and eye-burning smoke. Was it possible we’d gotten our wires crossed? Was this basement meant to cage adult werewolves rather than children?

No matter how hard I sniffed, though, Finnegan continued to smell entirely human. Which meant, counterintuitively, I needed to treat him like a greater threat.

Because a human was more likely to be working for the Council. It would have been nice to be able to communicate that guesswork down a mate bond. As it was, I had to hope Orion’s thought processes ran along a similar path to mine.

“You got this?” I asked.

Orion didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he struck in a flash of shifter-expedited movement. One blink, then Finnegan’s face was pressed up against the wall, one trench-coat-clad arm twisted up behind his back. Celeste barely had time to gasp before Orion uttered a single syllable:

“Yep.”

“Great.” Problematic stranger taken care of, I grabbed my sister’s wrist then tugged her out of the vestibule and into the hallway. After all, there were still children to hunt for, whether Finnegan was their jailer or an older captive as he claimed.

I’d expected the smoke to be worse here, but it was actually a little better. So that wasn’t the reason my sister strained away from me, trying to stay close to the double set of doors that opened onto the vestibule. She was the one who’d been adamant that we follow this lead as soon as possible. But even as her feet unstuck and she trailed behind me into the increasing darkness, she acted as reluctant as when Julius had refused to let our younger selves leave the table until we’d cleared everything green off our plates.

“Orion’s hurting him,” my sister complained, her voice louder than was really necessary even with the cacophony blaring.

No, that wasn’t right. Among humans, Celeste’s speech would have been entirely appropriate to the surroundings. I’d just gotten used to living among wolves.

Wolves who wouldn’t consider what Orion was doing excessive. No bones had cracked and I doubted Finnegan’s muscles were really straining. “He’ll be fine,” I answered, opening a door in hopes it was the kitchen. No such luck.

“We can’t leave him alone with…” Celeste started.

“Orion?” I finished her thought absently, traveling faster into the haze.

“An alpha werewolf,” my sister answered under her breath, perhaps not expecting me to hear her. “You know how they get.”

There was so much to unpack there…so much I would have said myself two months ago. Now was neither the time nor the place for word-bending however. Not when I had a blazing appliance to find behind one of the closed doors that lined both sides of the stark hallway. A scavenger hunt with a hard deadline—douse the device with fire repellent before the entire building went up in flames.

Yesterday, I’d agreed with our hacker’s suggestion to set up a long-distance fire by overloading a smart toaster. It made good sense after all. The appliance was bound to be outside any sleeping quarters, giving me and Orion time to squelch the problem after smoke triggered the unlocking of doors and before the blaze really took hold.

But we hadn’t counted on dilly-dallying talking to a stranger, then talking about a stranger. We hadn’t counted on Celeste joining the invasion, moving slower than a shifter would have as she trailed her fingers along the wall to make up for the dim lighting. I just hoped the combined delays didn’t mean fire had flared up to cabinet level before we reached the source.

The second door opened onto a room that wasn’t the habitat of a toaster any more than the first had been. The third, though…

Yep, the toaster was in here somewhere. Hidden behind that wall of unquenchable flames.

***

Celeste was the one who slammed the door, cutting off the flow of billowing smoke. My eyes didn’t just tear now. They burned, trying to squeeze shut to protect delicate membranes.

I could see well enough, though, to know that the kitchen had passed the point of fire suppression. Celeste was right to create a barrier between the conflagration and the hallway. She was also right to hurry us further down the hallway, away from the exit rather than toward it.

After all, there could still be children locked in one of the rooms we hadn’t checked yet.

The two spaces we’d looked into on the way to the kitchen had been a bathroom and a living room, both currently devoid of life. Which left three doors further down the hall…

I hesitated, uncertain whether it would be safer to send Celeste back toward Orion and the stranger or to let her follow me deeper into what Finnegan had termed the underworld. My sister was the one who made the decision for us. “We’re not leaving kids behind in this,” she said, taking the lead as she felt her way deeper into the smoke.

Past the kitchen, heat from the fire turned suffocating. If I had to guess, I’d say the flames had burned through an interior wall and spread in this direction. It also seemed as if the air-filtration system was drawing smoke toward this end of the hallway, condensing it beyond the filter’s ability to clean.

The thought fizzled in my head, rational explanations pushed aside by painful skin prickling. By breathing gone raspy. A cough started in my lungs then shook my entire body in a way I couldn’t seem to stop.

Then Celeste was sloshing water out of a plastic bottle onto my sleeve and dragging that sleeve across my nose. The layer of wet fabric helped a little, enough so I could peer at her to ensure she’d done the same.

“Never underestimate a kindergarten teacher,” my sister admonished, her voice coming out as a croak from behind what appeared to be a cloth handkerchief tied across her nose and mouth.

My sister was right—she’d had more foresight than I had. And it wasn’t so much that I was underestimating her. It was that working together on a critical mission was unfamiliar territory for the two of us. I’d been trained to walk through hazards unflinching. She hadn’t. And I needed Celeste to make it out of here alive.

I didn’t waste time trying—and failing—to send her away though. Instead, I took the lead as we entered a portion of the hallway so smoky Celeste had to grab onto the back of my shirt to keep her bearings. Even my shifter-assisted eyesight had turned our surroundings into a blur now. Smoke and heat pressed against us in a suffocating embrace.

I could barely discern the first door on my right, the opposite side of the hallway from the kitchen. My hand had just touched the knob—still cool—when heavy footsteps pounded up behind us.

Orion. I knew the cadence of his stride without having to look, but I glanced backwards anyway as the dark shape behind me rumbled, “Finnegan swears there’s no one else here.” Despite his words, Orion continued to keep his body between Finnegan—who’d followed him down the hallway—and the rest of us.

“Won’t hurt to check,” I answered, yanking open the door. Before haze took over the air inside, I scanned the space and found it just as devoid of life as the others.

This room was an office, complete with desk and computer. Would a prisoner be given supplies like those? But if Finnegan wasn’t a prisoner, wouldn’t he have taken advantage of Orion’s turned back in order to call for reinforcements?

Which is when I realized Celeste’s fingers had left my shirt. My rasping breath was so loud in my own ears, I hadn’t heard her move away from me. But I caught the motion as she opened the next door down, the last one on the non-kitchen side.

“Bedroom,” she called back to us.

“Mine,” Finnegan answered, “and you look remarkably good in it.”

Just like everyone else’s, his voice had turned rough from smoke inhalation. No, that wasn’t quite right. His tone was also tinged with flirtation despite heat from the kitchen pressing into our skin like a physical force.

Celeste was mostly human, so she should have felt ten times worse than I did. Still, she leaned toward Finnegan while his entire body angled back in her direction. Both of them appeared willing to make calf eyes as the building we were inside literally went up in flames.

“Terrible pickup line,” I muttered under my breath. “Even worse timing.”

I’d kept my voice shifter low, but Finnegan as well as Orion responded by glancing in my direction. Celeste didn’t. She was so intent upon gazing at Finnegan that I expected cartoon hearts to pop out of the smoky air and form a halo around her head.

I’d never seen my sister like this. Still, when we watched movies together, she always ogled the bad boys. Was this the moment she fell for exactly the wrong man, not on screen but in real life?

Something fell then, but it wasn’t Celeste. Instead, the crash came from the kitchen. I could only hope a cabinet had come loose from the wall rather than a structural support losing its integrity. Surely a building this large would be framed in metal? Still…

“I swear there’s no one else here,” Finnegan said, his tone turning urgent as if he’d just realized he and Celeste were inside a burning building. “Let’s go.”

“There’s one more room,” Celeste countered, already moving toward the door on the kitchen side of the hallway. The door I suspected would open onto flames.

A louder crash emerged from the kitchen. The wall on that side bulged as if something heavy pressed up against it. If sheet rock collapsed into the hallway, Celeste’s only exit route would be blocked…

“It’s time to evacuate. Ladies first.”

The alpha command spun me around and thrust my feet forward before I fully understood what was happening. My motions weren’t my own as I hurried back down the hall, aiming toward the exit. Only the sound of Celeste’s parallel footsteps prevented me from struggling against the compulsion and forcing myself to stay in place.

As I walked, I puzzled as best I could while breathing through my sleeve and swiping at tearing eyes. My sister wouldn’t have left that doorknob unturned of her own free will, which meant shifter magic worked on her even though she showed no other signs of having a connection to her wolf. Thank you, Orion, I thought, grateful he’d guessed my sister’s susceptibility and used it to protect her.

Then Orion’s growl carried down the hall through the smoke. “You’re a wolf.”

“Not much of one,” Finnegan answered. “Can’t shift. Perhaps we could hold the rest of this conversation somewhere the walls aren’t about to cave in on us?”

Whatever Orion replied, I didn’t hear it. Because the alpha command—Finnegan’s alpha command?—continued carrying me down the hallway faster and faster. I thrust open the unlocked outer door and stumbled out into the fresh air of the dimly lit alley. There, I bent over and hacked out sooty yuck that had settled in my throat, blinking my eyes furiously to clear my sight.

It took me far too long to straighten and look for a sister who might need my help. Shifter constitutions tended to be hardier than humans’, and Celeste was far more human than she was lupine. The smoke had been bad there at the end, far too bad for damp cloth over a nose to protect us. Celeste might not have made it…

She had made it. Wasn’t in any distress, apparently.

Instead, my sister stood with her head cocked, gazing intently at the doorway we’d so recently stumbled out of. She was waiting for something. She was waiting for—

Finnegan emerged, not bent over but rather just as tall and sturdy as he’d looked when he greeted us the first time. His trench coat billowed out behind him like a cinematic wizard’s cloak, and he didn’t seem to chafe at its bulk despite the Texas heat and the fiery interior he’d just strode through.

In response, Celeste sighed, the breeze of air wending out of her lips soft and awestruck. I had a sinking suspicion I’d just witnessed love at first sight.

***

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