Page 2 of Wolf's Fate

Wow. I had expected a “yes,” maybe a follow-up, generic comment. Instead, I got an in-depth compliment, which I hadn’t been expecting.

“Thank you,” I told him honestly. “That means a lot.” I knew I was blushing furiously, and Royce patted my shoulder as he saw my struggle to accept the compliment.

“We done bonding?” Ned asked from behind us.

I probably wouldn’t have heard the low huff of displeasure if I hadn’t been beside Royce.

“Don’t be an ass,” Royce said with a hard look. He turnedto me once more. “But he is right, we should move.” His eyes flicked to the storage cupboard. “Anything new?”

I almost laughed. Instead, I went and opened the door. I heard someone’s mutter, but it was too low to make out.

“All of this?” Ned asked doubtfully.

“Yup.” I stepped back as Ned moved in front to start lifting out the artwork.

“You’ve been busy,” he told me, and had I not gotten accustomed to him over these last weeks, I may have said his look was one of concern.

“Willow?” Royce, on the other hand, was looking at me with concern. “This is too much.” His hand gestured to the pile. “You need to rest. Your illness…”

“Ismyillness,” I spoke quickly. “I’m fine.” I watched Ned flicking through my work. They would check whatever I had created and then filter through the ones that had anything related to their world. They’d been doing this every week since I met them, and so far, they’d only ever handed me one sketch back. Everything else, they took, their frowns becoming deeper every visit.

It had been three weeks since that day Caleb walked away and never looked back. I’d been left in the town on Blackridge Peak with a pissed-off alpha, a shaman, and a doctor who was more interested in studyingmethan the fact that Caleb had vanished off the face of the earth…mountain…whatever.

“Thirty,” Ned said with a grunt, his look assessing. “I think you need to rethink the offer of being with us.”

I was already shaking my head. “No, I don’t need to move to yourpack.” I saw the flat look. “I’m not part of your…community. I already put you at risk by this.” I waved my hand over the pile. “I think that’s enough. I don’t need to be closer to you.” I gave them both a self-deprecating look. “I still need to sleepsometimeafter all.”

“You think you would see more if you were amongst us?” Royce said with understanding.

“I do.” I saw their looks and felt the panic building. “Please don’t tell Cannon this,” I asked them both. I saw the look they shared, but they both nodded their agreement. However, I only believed Royce would keep quiet. Ned would tell Cannon. I also saw the younger man knew exactly what I was thinking, and for the first time, I sawhimbreak our stare as he looked away with, if I didn’t know better, what would’ve appeared to be guilt.

“This is…”

I looked over at Royce, and I knew which sketch he was focused on. Walking over, I looked at what he was holding.

“I wish I knew what caused him this pain,” I admitted quietly. The sketch was of Caleb—when was it not?—sitting in front of that large log cabin I’d drawn months ago, a place now as familiar to me as my own home. He was looking to the left, his chin in his hand as he stared at some point in the landscape beyond my vision.

What caught our attention wasn’t where he was or what he was looking at, but how he looked. His jeans were ripped and torn, his chest bare, with three long scratches barely visible—just enough to leave us wondering how bad they were. His hair was longer, unkept, strands falling over his face and obscuring his features, though bruises and scratches still peeked through. And yet, despite the clear signs of violence on his body, the overall impression of him could only be described as tortured.

I felt Ned as he looked over my shoulder. “Looks like he fought a bear,” he said with interest.

“A bear?” I asked with alarm.

“It’s not the bear he’s fighting,” Royce said with a sad shake of his head. He exchanged a look with Ned. “Cannon needs to try again.”

Ned snorted. “He would if he could find him.”

“Find him?” I looked between them both. “He’s right there.” I pointed at the cabin. “He’s always there,” I added softly.

“Until a shifter takes a step onto Shadowridge Peak,” Ned corrected me gruffly. “Then he’s gone.”

“Thenfindhim,” I demanded, my exasperation seeping through. “You are supposed to be hunters. Go hunt.”

Royce gave a low chuckle. “Wearehunters, but it’s a different game when the prey knows how to hunt as well.”

“Or better,” Ned conceded.

“So what you’re saying is…you can’t find him because he’s hiding from you too well?” I asked incredulously.

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