Page 40 of Anders
A chill ran down Etta’s spine as her eyes began scanning the room, suddenly spotting similar devices tucked into corners, behind shelves, under the desk.
They’re everywhere,she breathed.I put them here, didn’t I?During those times I can’t remember.
Anders didn’t answer directly, but his expression confirmed her fears.We need to check your rental house,he said.If you placed these, you likely have more equipment there.
The thought of having been an unwitting spy made her stomach churn, but Etta nodded.Let’s go.
THE RENTAL HOUSE FELTboth familiar and foreign as they approached it cautiously.Anders insisted on clearing each room before letting Etta enter, his protective instincts clearly in overdrive.
Careful,he murmured as they entered what should have been her bedroom.Don’t touch anything yet.
Etta hung back, watching as Anders methodically swept the room, checking for surveillance or traps.When he motioned that it was clear, she began searching through her own belongings with the odd sensation of going through a stranger’s things.
Here,she said, finding a hidden compartment in her suitcase.Inside was a sleek metal case containing more surveillance equipment, along with a small notebook filled with handwriting she recognized as her own.
Her hands trembled as she opened it.The contents were clinical, detached—observation notes about pack members, security patterns, patrol schedules.All written in her handwriting, yet she had no memory of recording any of it.
I documented everything,she whispered, horror creeping through her.Guard rotations, perimeter weaknesses, individual member habits.I gave them a complete security assessment of the entire pack.
Anders took the notebook, his expression carefully neutral as he flipped through pages.These were thorough, for sure.
That doesn’t change the fact that I endangered everyone.She swallowed down the bile rising in her throat.
But you didn’t know what you were doing.You were being used.
I’m still a threat.As long as I have this—she touched the mark on her neck—I could be compromised again at any moment.
Anders set the notebook aside and took her hands, his touch grounding her in the midst of rising panic.We’ll figure it out,he promised.My security systems have been tracking your movements, cataloging your behavior patterns.If we can understand how the control works, we might be able to counteract it.
Okay.Then show me,she said.Show me what your systems recorded.I need to see what I’ve been doing.
BACK ATANDERS’S COMMANDcenter, Etta watched surveillance footage of herself moving through town with increasing discomfort.
The recordings showed her normal daily activities, but interspersed were strange moments—times when her movements became mechanical, when she would stop and write furiously in her notebook, or when she would make detours to check surveillance equipment.
More disturbing were the recordings from the past few nights, as the full moon grew closer.They showed her pacing her rental house like a caged animal, her movements increasingly agitated and lupine despite her having no conscious awareness of her shifter nature.
It’s like watching two different people,she murmured, observing herself prowl the rental house’s living room, head tilting occasionally to scent the air in a distinctly lupine gesture.
Your wolf was fighting to surface despite the chemical suppression,Anders said, pausing the footage on a frame that showed her eyes reflecting gold in the dim light.And look here—your physical symptoms increase dramatically after sunset.The moon’s pull affects all shifters, but especially those fighting their nature.
Etta stared at her own image, simultaneously familiar and foreign.I hate that they did this to me.Made me into someone—something—I don’t recognize.
Anders’s hand covered hers, warm and steady.You’re reclaiming yourself.Every memory that returns, every moment you acknowledge your wolf—you’re taking back what was stolen.
Their eyes met, and the air between them seemed to heat, charged with electricity.
Etta was acutely aware of his proximity, of how his scent wrapped around her.
I don’t know who I am anymore,she said, her voice barely audible.The human life I thought was mine was fabricated.The shifter life I barely remember was stolen.
Anders turned his chair to face her fully, his expression intense.
I’m caught between worlds.Etta blinked rapidly, holding back tears.
You’re Etta,Anders said firmly.The core of who you are—your courage, your intelligence—that’s you, whether human or wolf.
His voice soothed something raw and jagged inside her.How can you be so sure?
