Chapter 88
850 Words
The moon hung low over the horizon, pale silver bleeding across the treetops. The air was still, too still, the kind of quiet that made the hair on the back of Devon’s neck rise. He stood just beyond the inner wall of the pack’s settlement, flanked by his patrol guards, their wolves prowling restlessly in the shadows.
Something was wrong.
Devon felt it the way a storm announced itself before the first clap of thunder the subtle shift in the air, the taste of iron on the wind, the restless energy crawling beneath his skin. His wolf bristled inside him, straining against the surface, ready to spring.
“Alpha,” one of the guards muttered, his voice low, almost reverent. “Do you feel that?”
Devon’s jaw tightened. “I do.”
The men fell silent after that, their unease mirrored in their eyes. These were seasoned warriors men who had stood at his side through battles and bloodshed, who feared little but now their hackles were raised, and their scents reeked faintly of tension.
Devon drew a slow breath, the cold night filling his lungs. Yes. Something was out there. A presence hovering just beyond their borders, close enough to taunt but careful not to step inside. He couldn’t yet place it, but his instincts whispered danger.
“Form a wider circle,” he ordered, his voice steady. “No one crosses without my word.”
The guards obeyed, wolves shifting seamlessly into motion, disappearing into the trees with quiet efficiency. Devon remained still, his gaze scanning the darkness. He didn’t shift. He didn’t need to. His power hummed at his fingertips, an extension of himself, alive and ready.
A faint growl rumbled in his chest. He knew this wasn’t just rogues. Rogues were reckless, sloppy. This was deliberate. Watched. Measured.
And it wasn’t Levi. Not directly.
His thoughts flickered back to the witch who had fought alongside Levi, to the chaos she had stirred. He had suspected from the moment she vanished that Levi hadn’t been acting alone. Now, that suspicion was hardening into certainty. Someone else was moving pieces in the dark.
But who?
A sound snapped his focus a branch cracking in the distance, followed by silence. Devon’s hand twitched at his side, his claws threatening to break through. He waited, muscles taut, but nothing more came. Just the night, heavy and thick.
His wolf snarled impatiently. Let me out. Let me see.
But Devon resisted. He couldn’t afford to give in to instinct now. Instinct wanted blood. Strategy required patience.
After several long moments, he exhaled slowly, releasing the tension from his shoulders. Whatever lurked out there had no intention of revealing itself tonight. It was probing. Testing.
Still, his decision came quickly and without hesitation. Adriana could not know.
Not yet.
He pictured her back at the packhouse, her laughter floating down the hall as she arranged the tiny clothes she’d bought from the daycare earlier, the glow in her eyes when she had returned from bonding with the mothers of the pack. She had looked… lighter. Happier.
He couldn’t take that from her. Not tonight.
“Pull back,” he told the guards. “Rotate the watch. Triple the patrols along the east line. And speak of this to no one.”
“Yes, Alpha.”
The men scattered, their loyalty absolute. Devon remained a moment longer, his gaze still fixed on the treeline. His wolf growled again, restless, but Devon silenced him with a single command of will.
Not yet.
Turning away, he walked back to the packhouse, every step heavy with the weight of secrets.
Adriana sat cross-legged on the bed when he entered, her hair damp from a bath, her face soft in the lamplight. She glanced up, her eyes brightening the moment she saw him.
“You’re late,” she teased, a smile tugging her lips.
Devon’s chest eased at the sight. “I was held up.”
Her brow furrowed faintly, but before she could press, he crossed the room and bent to kiss her. She melted against him instantly, her hands curling into his shirt, the familiar warmth of her body dissolving the chill that clung to him from the border.
“I missed you,” she whispered against his mouth.
And in that moment, he resolved again she would not know. Not until he had answers. Not until he had crushed whatever threat loomed beyond the treeline.
Because she deserved peace. She deserved joy. She deserved to bask in the promise of their child without shadows clouding her days.
“Missed you more,” he murmured, pulling her closer. His lips brushed her temple, lingering, protective.
She leaned into him, her body soft against his, her breathing steady. Devon held her tighter, inhaling the scent of her skin, the sweet warmth that anchored him. His wolf quieted, soothed by her nearness.
But his mind did not still.
In the back of his head, the warning lingered like a drumbeat: this peace was fragile, borrowed time.
And he would fight tooth and claw to preserve it.
- Writer
