I waited for nightfall. I would head back to Mammoth Forest before dawn, but not before I got one more look at the farmhouse behind the old prison gates. Able was there. He had to be. There’d been no sightings of him anywhere in the state for weeks.

He’d been wounded badly in his last fight with Payne. He was old. Ancient by Alpha wolf standards. As old as eighty-five, maybe. Dr. Olivet couldn’t explain it. She thought maybe his absolute control over such a large pack for so long had something to do with his longevity. Maybe he’d found a way to suck the strength out of his most powerful generals. It gave us the idea that killing them off might be the way to get to him. She wouldn’t give voice to it, but I knew Molly and Dr. Olivet were hoping for something else. They hoped if Able died, it would free the rest of the Pack. I knew different. Those men were twisted and too far gone.

I kept to the densest part of the woods. I knew Able’s house was due north. I found myself veering east, to the small cabin where Rowan lived. As soon as I became aware of it, I tried to course correct. No matter what she was, I hadn’t come here for her. She’d lived this long near the Pack and had proven she could take care of herself. As much as it bothered me, I had no choice but to let her keep doing that.

I was about to turn away from the overgrown trail leading to the cabin when pain seized my heart. A scream ripped through the night air. I heard the sound of wood splintering and a great thud.

Before I knew what I was doing, I was in my wolf. Teeth bared, I skidded to a halt just before I hit the clearing. The door to the cabin was torn off its hinges. Two shifter patrols stood on either side of it, their arms crossed in front of them, their eyes stone cold. The real drama was happening inside. I could see papers and clothing flying through the air from the window. I sensed two more shifters inside, tearing the place apart.

“You’ve no right!” It had to be Rowan’s aunt Grace. Two seconds later, she burst out the front door, pushed from behind. The old woman took a stumbling step forward but quickly caught her balance. I bit my tongue to keep from growling. My fur bristled and my vision tunneled as I sensed the predatory rage coming off the shifters behind her.

She turned on them. “You’re wasting your time. I don’t know anything about a trespasser. Neither does Rowan. Look at her!”

One of the shifters came out. He held Rowan’s upper arm in a firm grip. She’d adopted a crooked gait. For a moment, my heart flared with alarm that they’d broken her leg. I quickly realized she was doing it on purpose. Her act. She’d written the words to this play.

Rowan dropped her head back then let it loll to the side. Grace grabbed her and pulled her to her chest. “Leave the girl alone,” she said. “We are under Able Valent’s protection and you know it.”

The leader of the group took three quick strides, putting himself an inch from the old woman. She craned her neck to keep his gaze. Rowan. God. He could touch her if he wanted. She pressed her body against Grace’s and kept her eyes unfocused. I could sense the fear coming off the patrol leader.

“We are here under Valent’s orders.”

“That may be,” Grace said. “But I’d wager he didn’t give you orders to trash my home and scare the hell out of my ward. Now, you have what you came for. There’s nothing here. Get out. Go back to Valent and tell him what you found. Jack Squat.”

He moved toward her. I could feel the murderous rage bubbling up. He was barely able to control his wolf. My God, he wanted to tear the old woman apart. Then, his focus shifted to Rowan. He was torn. He lifted one finger and tucked it under her chin.

Lightning went off inside my head. A low growl emanated from me. Rowan staggered forward but kept her neck loose. It was just an instant, but she looked across the clearing and locked eyes with me. Hers flashed silver. A warning. Don’t move. Stand down.

Then, she focused her attention on the patrol leader. Lust coiled through him. I could feel its sickening tendrils. If he touched her. If he hurt her.

Rowan barked. She honest to God barked at him. The man blinked and staggered back.

“Come on,” he shouted. “Time to go.”

With a sharp whistle, he rounded up the other three members of the patrol. They fell in line behind him. As soon as they were a few feet from the women, they each shifted into their wolves and tore off through the woods in the other direction.

Grace’s shoulders dropped. She let go of Rowan. Rowan straightened her back and turned her attention to the old woman.

“Are you okay?” she asked, feeling along her arms, the back of her head. But, the old woman was strong-backed and defiant.

“Come on,” she said. “Let’s get you inside.”

She wouldn’t take no for an answer and I hung back. As if it weighed nothing, Rowan lifted the broken door and leaned it against the frame.

I should have left. It would have been the safest thing to do for Rowan and for me. The shifter patrols could come back. I sensed them moving deeper into the forest away from us, but the longer I stayed, the more likely they’d be able to scent me.

But, I didn’t leave. Instead, I moved through the shadows, drawn to what I saw through the window.

Rowan. Her dark hair pasted to her forehead with sweat. She sat at the kitchen table, her arm stretched across it. Her aunt Grace held a syringe between her teeth as she held a medicine vial up to the light. It had reddish, viscous liquid inside. Grace plunged the needle into the rubber top of the vial and drew out the medicine. She held the needle up and squeezed the plunger until a thick bead of red formed at the tip. Then, she wiped Rowan’s arm with an alcohol swab and stuck her with the needle. Rowan blew out a hard breath as the medicine went in.

Her eyes glazed over and her body went slack with unnatural calm. Aunt Grace kissed the top of her head and tossed the needle away.