The moment I shifted back into my human form, the scent of evening rain and dried, rotted flowers swept up toward me. I turned to the duffle bag I had brought with my boots and some fresh-cut flowers inside. I slipped on my boots, and then grabbed a handful of calla lilies, my late mother’s favorite flower and moved forward.

As I made my way through a row of hydrangea bushes, the graveyard of my ancestors came into view. I pulled open the wrought iron gate and entered the area. Dry grass crunched under my boot as I walked between the stone angels and headstones, many of which had aged over time.

The Arnou family cemetery. I had visited this place almost weekly since my grandfather died, succumbing to the disease that had confined him to a bed for years.

I went from grave to grave. Thibaud Jr., my grandfather. Then my great-grandfather Thibaud Sr. Wives and mates were generally buried alongside each other according to Arnou custom. The custom was what Thibaud Jr. had chosen for him and his wife, Annita. As for my great-grandfather, when his wife Natalija Zovic died, there was a big fuss about whether she would be buried among Arnou or Zovics. Their matching headstones had already been carved out, but in a last-minute decision against her will, Natalija's body was buried in the Zovic family cemetery. That gravesite wasn’t too far from here.

The Zovic estate had been auctioned off years before Goran Zovic’s death. It was such a shame that he would rather see his family’s possessions scattered between unknowns than let it fall into my hands…or any other Arnou for that matter. And although we were blood-related, he hated me. He hated Arnou. He’d taught his son, Jovan, the same resentment, but it was too bad that the same son he cherished so much put a bullet in the back of his head without cause.

I passed my father’s headstone and a wave of bitterness consumed me. I had never forgiven him for killing my mother. Fuck all this crap about letting go, forgiving, and moving on so I could find peace. No. He’d taken the only woman I’d ever loved before Elisa away from me. I couldn’t forgive that. But yet, my father was the reason why I was here. He was the reason why I was who I was. I never wanted to be like him. Callous. Self-serving. Devious. I made it a point never to be like him. So perhaps, I had him to thank for that.

After tending to my mother Teresa’s headstone, I saved a single calla lily for Natalija. I thought her spirit would like to know that her garden of exotic flowers was still thriving after all these decades.

The quickest way to get to the next cemetery was in wolf form. So I shifted and ran with the flower between my teeth. I crossed three farmhouses and two dirt roads to get there. I didn’t even stop to check on the old Zovic estate. It had stood barren for quite some time. I assumed the new owners hadn’t gotten around to renovating it. Or maybe they regretted buying it. Maybe they had taken heed to the folklore concocted up by the locals about men changing into beasts during the full moon and roaming the surrounding forests at night. So close to the truth, but yet so far away. My wolf brethren and I liked it like that. And we had no plans on correcting anyone or making our existence known. That was something Devin, Alpha of the Caedmon pack, and I agreed upon long ago.

Just before crossing the road to get to the lot, I shifted back into my human form and emerged from a row of bushes.

I never made it the Zovic family cemetery.

I didn’t sense the wolves crowding up on me until I was out in the open and vulnerable. There were twelve of them closing in and circling me like vultures.

At that moment, I realized why I hadn't detected them before. These wolves were different from Arnou or Caedmon, whom I could scent and identify within milliseconds of seeing one. They were Converted wolves—the very animals I had been trying to lure out of hiding for months.

They didn’t possess the spirit of Caedmon. I didn’t know what they were exactly. I didn’t know who had created this new breed. Most likely a witch. Elisa’s research had her perplexed causing us many restless nights. Devin's resources from the Feds were also running out. Searches led by my crew and I for Converted hideouts had been fruitless—up until now. The Converted had drawn too much attention to our existence. They had to be controlled or eliminated one way or the other.

But as I stood there, a single lone wolf amongst a pack of blood-thirsty animals, I questioned who had the upper hand here. When a few of the wolves started bucking forward with ears perked up and canines bared, I didn’t take lightly to the threat.

The wolves continued prowling around me, their circle getting tighter and tighter. Every sign of aggression pointed to one thing—they were gearing up to attack me.

Twelve of them. One of me. I couldn’t even remember the last time I had ripped out a throat in my true form. Let alone twelve in one night. The need to kill wasn’t just my nature—the instinct was in my blood.

Just as my wolf form started to take hold of my body, I dropped the single calla lily to the ground.

My wolf fought against me. He desperately wanted out. As the seconds ticked by, I relinquished more and more control until my knees buckled and I had no choice but to let my animal break free.

I prayed that Jovan was in this bunch. Either way, he should’ve warned them—his Converted.

I sized up my opponents who glared at me with pale yellow eyes, sensing their fears as they saw me in my true form for the first time.

I was no ordinary wolf. I was a true Alpha. And I would kill them all.