Page 104 of Rocky Top

“What about your father? He die in a fight too?”

“My pa’s still livin’. Preaching in Knoxville. Rejected pack life after mama died. Disowned me once I became a biker and embraced my wolf. Says he’s washed in the blood of the Lord now. No longer believes he can be saved and run on all fours.”

“How does stop from shifting?”

“There are ways. And they have nothin’ to do with being right with the Lord.”

“I’m so sorry,” I said, reaching out to touch him. I could feel the deep sorrow he felt from the rejection.

We sat like that for a while, just listening to the fire and the slow creak of the old wood settling into night. I leaned into him eventually, drawn to his heat like always, and he wrapped an arm around me.

That’s when it happened.

I blinked, and the room shifted.

Not in a way that made sense. One second, I was leaning against him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest… the next I was somewhere else. Same cabin, but different. Darker. Lit by candlelight instead of fire. And in the center of the room stood a woman with eyes like ice water and hands stained red.

Cora.

She turned toward me slowly, her gaze piercing right through me. Her lips didn’t move, but her voice echoed in my head like thunder.

“They’re coming,” she said. “And it ain’t just your bones they want—it’s your blood. Your future.”

I gasped, the vision cracking apart like glass under a hammer.

I was back. Back in the cabin, in Rocky’sarms.

He jerked, holding me tighter. “Birdie? What happened?”

I tried to breathe, but my lungs were gripping tight. “I saw her. Your mama. She said they’re coming. For me. For all of us.”

His face went still. Cold. “You sure?”

I nodded. “She said it wasn’t just about bones. It’s about future. Blood.”

He stood abruptly, pacing the room now. “Shit. If you’re seein’ her, if she’s reachin’ through… that means the veil’s thin. Means more is comin’ than just Brent.”

“You think she was talking about the Ashowlers?”

“Could be,” he muttered. “Or worse.”

I shivered. “What’s worse than necromancer-backed psychos?”

He met my eyes, and I saw it there. Fear.

“Something older,” he said. “Something we thought we buried a long time ago.”

We stayed in that cabin all night, curled up on the couch beneath a blanket that smelled like cedar and prophecy. I didn’t dream, not the way I had before. I’d seen the future. I’d tasted the truth. It was bitterly sweet, like the blood Cora spoke of.

Chapter 27

Birdie

If someone had told me a month ago I’d be spending my afternoon sitting in a tiny Knoxville bridal boutique while my pregnant best friend sobbed in a beaded gown, because she was marrying a biker who turned into a fox, I’d have told ‘em to lay off the moonshine. Hell, I’d have them committed. But here we were, lace, tulle, and a whole lotta hormones.

“Eliza,” I murmured, gently pulling the veil off her head. “You look like a fairytale.”

She stared at herself in the mirror, her growing belly round under a flowy A-line dress that sparkled like river light. Then her lip trembled, and just like that, the tears started again.

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