Page 30 of Panther in the Shadows
"The brotherhood will want answers when they arrive. They'll want to know what we've found. What we're planning."
"Let me handle the brotherhood. You focus on preparation. On being ready for tonight. If this summoner shows up at the lighthouse, we need to be prepared for anything."
"What if my magic isn't strong enough?" The words are out before sense catches them. "Years ago I failed. Failed to save Elspeth and my father. What if it happens again?"
Three strides bring him across the space. His hands cup my face, forcing eye contact. "You were thirteen years old. A child with barely developed power facing a storm that killed an experienced sailor. That wasn't failure. That was impossible odds."
"But now someone is using that impossibility against me. Using Elspeth's death. My guilt. All of it weaponized into this ritual."
"Then we turn it back on them. Use what they think is your weakness as your strength. They expect you to be afraid. To run. To hide like you've been doing for years. So we do the opposite. We hunt them. We face them. And we end this before anyone else dies."
His certainty flows through the touch. Steady. Unshakeable. Confidence born from surviving impossible situations through pure stubborn will.
"You really think we can do this?"
"I know we can. Because you're stronger than you think. Braver than anyone gives you credit for. And you're not alone anymore."
The air between us feels charged. His eyes hold mine, and breathing becomes complicated.
"The brotherhood. They'll be here soon."
"Let them come." But he does step back, giving space. "Finish gathering what you need. I'll brief them on what we've found. Then tonight, we end this."
Back to collecting ingredients. But his gaze weighs heavily on me without looking directly at him.
Last night cracked something between us. When I treated his wounds. When he listened while I confessed my worst failure.When he promised we'd find whoever turned my sister into a weapon.
Black salt gets measured into a small leather pouch. We finish gathering supplies and return to the main room where Rafe's already back at the evidence table, studying the map with military precision.
"The lighthouse has three approaches." He points to terrain around the eastern cliff marker. "Sea access via the rocks below. The old road that leads to the keeper's cottage. And this path through the forest that most people don't know exists."
Our shoulders touch as we both lean over the map. Solid presence beside me feeling right in ways that defy examination.
"We'll need to cover all three approaches. Watch for anyone heading to the location. The summoner has to be there at the moment of death, which means they'll arrive before the victim."
"How do we know who the victim will be?"
"We don't. Which is why we stop anyone who shows up. Better to prevent the death than solve the murder afterward." His watch gets checked. "The brotherhood should be arriving soon. I'll take you up to meet them in the warehouse proper. Can't have them down here."
Understanding clicks into place. This space is private. Sacred. He brought me here, showed me the luxury he hides from everyone else. But the brotherhood doesn't get that access.
"They don't know about any of this." My gesture encompasses the rich fabrics, the expensive kitchen, the storage room full of rare ingredients.
"They know my headquarters exist. They don't need to know how or where I live in it." He gathers the most important evidence. Maps. Ritual markers. My grandmother's grimoire. "Come on. Time to brief the most dangerous shifters on this island about what's hunting their territory."
We climb the stairs to the warehouse proper. The public face of his operation. Industrial. Utilitarian. Nothing like the space below.
The main warehouse floor opens up around us. Stacked crates. Fishing equipment that hasn't touched water in years. The perfect facade for criminal operations.
Footsteps echo from the entrance. Heavy boots on concrete. Multiple sets.
The door opens. Male voices filter through. Then the brotherhood enters one by one.
Declan leads, his eyes taking in the evidence Rafe has spread on a makeshift table. Jax follows, scarred and suspicious. Then the others. The massive bear-shifter. The dragon with ancient eyes. The tiger whose story I don't know.
Five of the most dangerous shifters on this island.
Declan's attention fixes on the ritual markers. The corrupted stones. My grandmother's forbidden grimoire open to the page about binding the drowned.
