Double Trouble, Triple Heat

Chapter 6

The messages start coming the next morning.

First a text from a blocked number: Nice cabin. Looks cozy from the outside.

Then another: You really thought changing states would save you?

Then a photo. My car, parked in front of the general store yesterday. Taken from across the street.

He's here. He's actually here.

My hands shake so badly I nearly drop my phone. I should call the police. I should tell someone. But what would I say? My former boss is stalking me because I broke his nose when he tried to assault me? I can already hear how that conversation would go.

I delete the messages and try to pretend I'm fine.

Dominic and Caspian show up around noon, and I paste on a smile that feels paper-thin. They've brought lunch—sandwiches from the diner in town—and they settle into my kitchen like they belong there.

"You look tired," Caspian says, studying my face. "Didn't sleep well?"

"Strange dreams." I busy myself with plates to avoid his eyes. "New place, you know how it is."

Dominic's head tilts slightly. That thing he does, like he's listening to something I can't hear. "Why are you anxious?"

"What?"

"You seem... off." His amber eyes narrow. "Did something happen?"

"I'm fine." The lie tastes sour. "Just adjusting."

They exchange one of their looks—that wordless communication that's starting to drive me crazy—but they don't push. We eat lunch, they tell me about a hiking trail I should check out, and eventually they leave with promises to see me tomorrow.

The moment they're gone, I grab my jacket.

Miriam answers on the second knock, her sharp blue eyes widening slightly when she sees me.

"Sera. I wasn't expecting—"

"You said my mother was part of something." The words tumble out before I can stop them. "A community within the community. A pack. What did you mean?"

She studies me for a long moment, then steps aside. "You'd better come in."

Her cottage is cluttered with books and dried herbs, paintings of wolves on every wall. She pours tea and settles across from me at a small table.

"I wondered when you'd come back," she says. "You have questions."

"I have a lot of questions. None of the answers make sense."

“Are you sure you’re ready to listen?” She narrowed her eyes, waiting patiently for my answer.

“It’s about my mother, I’m sure I can manage.” Miriam nods. The words came out bluntly, but enough for her to gain surety.

"Your mother was special, Sera. Not just important—she was something rare. Something powerful."

"Powerful how?"

"She was a wolf."

I stare at her. "Excuse me?"

"A werewolf. A shifter. Someone who changes form under the moon." She says it like she's discussing the weather. "Your mother was one of the most powerful wolves born in generations. They called her a Prime."

I wait for the punchline. She doesn't give one.

"Mrs. Miriam..." I choose my words carefully. "I appreciate you trying to help, but werewolves aren't real. They're fairy tales."

"Are they?" She pushes an old photograph toward me. "Look at this."

The image is grainy, black and white. A group of people standing in a clearing, dressed in old-fashioned clothes. And beside them, two massive wolves—one dark, one light—sitting like dogs at their masters' feet.

"That's the Blackwood pack," Miriam says quietly. "Taken in 1952. The wolves aren't pets, Sera. They're members of the family."

I push the photo back. "This is... I can't..."

"Your mother ran from this. Chose a human over her destiny, her pack, her people. And it killed her, in the end. Being separated from the bond, from what she truly was—it poisoned her from the inside."

"My mother died of an illness."

"Your mother died of heartbreak." Miriam's eyes are gentle but unflinching. "The kind that happens when a wolf is torn from her pack."

I stand abruptly, my chair scraping against the floor. "I should go."

"Sera—"

"Thank you for the tea." I'm already moving toward the door. "And for... the stories. But I need to go."

She doesn't try to stop me. Just watches with those knowing eyes as I flee her cottage like it's on fire.

Werewolves. Packs. My mother, being some kind of supernatural creature. It's insane. Miriam is clearly lonely and eccentric and has spent too many years alone in these mountains, filling her head with folk tales and delusions.

But the photograph. The wolves in the photograph, sitting so still, so aware...

No. I shake my head hard. This is ridiculous.

I'm so distracted that I don't notice the rental car parked behind my cabin until I'm already on the porch.

"Hello, Sera."

Joseph steps out of the shadows by my door. He looks different than I remember—harder, meaner, a bruise still yellowing across his nose where I hit him. His smile makes my stomach turn.

"Miss me?"

"Get off my property."

"Your property?" He laughs, moving closer. "You don't own anything. You're broke, unemployed, and hiding in the middle of nowhere like the scared little girl you are."

I reach for the door, but he's faster. His hand closes around my wrist, yanking me toward him.

"You cost me everything." His breath is hot on my face, sour with alcohol. "My job. My reputation. And you thought you could just run away?"

"Let go of me."

"We're going to have a conversation about what you owe me." His grip tightens until I gasp.

The temperature drops.

Joseph freezes. His eyes go wide, fixed on something behind me.

I turn.

Dominic and Caspian stand at the edge of the clearing. They weren't there a second ago—I would have heard them approach—but now they're here, still as statues, their faces carved from ice.

"Let her go." Dominic's voice is barely above a whisper, but it carries like a thunderclap. Something in it makes my bones vibrate.

Joseph's hand tightens on my wrist. "This is none of your—"

Caspian moves. One moment he's twenty feet away, the next he's right beside us, his hand wrapped around Joseph 's throat. The speed is impossible. Inhuman.

"She said let go."

Joseph releases me like I've burned him. He stumbles backward, and Caspian lets him go, but the look in his silver eyes promises violence if Joseph makes another wrong move.

"You have five seconds to get in your car and leave." Dominic hasn't moved, but somehow he seems larger, more dangerous, filling the entire clearing with his presence. "If you ever come near her again—if you ever contact her, look at her, think about her—I will find you. And what happens next won't be pleasant."

"You can't threaten me." But Joseph 's voice shakes. "I'll call the police—"

"You'll call no one." Dominic's eyes flash gold in the fading light. "Five. Four. Three."

Joseph runs. He doesn't even make it to two before he's in his car, tires spraying gravel as he tears down the driveway.

Silence settles over the clearing.

Then Caspian's hands are on my face, tilting it up, checking me for damage. "Are you okay? Did he hurt you?"

"I'm fine." But my voice trembles. "How did you... where did you come from?"

"We were nearby." Dominic moves closer, and I see his hands are shaking. Not from fear—from barely contained rage. "We heard you."

"Heard me from where? I didn't scream."

They exchange a look. That look.

"Sera." Dominic's voice is gentle now, the violence gone, replaced by something tender. "You're not staying here tonight."

"What?"

"He knows where you live. He might come back." Caspian's thumb strokes my cheek. "Come to the lodge. Stay with us where it's safe."

I should argue. Insist I can take care of myself.

But my wrist throbs where Joseph grabbed me, and I'm still shaking, and the thought of being alone tonight makes me want to cry.

"Okay," I whisper. "Okay."

Dominic's hand finds the small of my back, guiding me toward the treeline. Caspian stays close on my other side.

And as we walk into the darkening forest, I can't stop thinking about what I saw. Caspian's impossible speed. The flash of gold in Dominic's eyes. The way Joseph looked at them like they were something out of a nightmare.

Miriam's words echo in my head: Your mother was a wolf.

Crazy. It's crazy.

But my heart doesn't quite believe that anymore.