Back inside my cabin, I locked the door behind me and turned to find three men studying the place. A strange sensation swirled in my stomach at the familiarity of being home, yet sharing it with shifters.

Nero ran a hand across the wooden walls while glancing up at the beams overhead. He strolled to the stone fireplace in the living room. Pinecones littered the mantelpiece. I’d had this thing about collecting them when I was young and couldn’t bring myself to throw them away, as they reminded me of my parents.

“So, this is my little abode,” I said. “It’s nothing special, but perfect for me.” Downstairs had the kitchen, bathroom, and a resting room, while on the second floor were the bedrooms.

“I love it,” Nero said, picking up wood from the pile next to the fireplace. “Now to get this place warmed up.”

Oryn glanced upstairs, gripping the timber banister, as if ready to launch himself upward. “Only two rooms up there?”

I looked up at the spare room that used to belong to my grandma, and how I used to tippy-toe past her room when I’d woken up in the middle of the night. But she’d always heard me and would join me in the kitchen. Those nights we’d end up cooking a feast with leftovers and tell silly jokes. The best memories ever.

“Do I need more rooms?” I returned to the kitchen and lit the stove, ready to make a huge pot of tea.

“If it bothers you, Oryn,” Nero called out, chuckling, “take the spare room. I’ll be bunking with my little lamb.”

Oryn shook his head and scaled the steps.

Dagen inspected the paintings of the forest on the walls.

“Those are mine,” I said. “I’ve been practicing in my spare time.”

“Love this image. Reminds me of you.” He pointed to one with my grandma walking into the forest wearing her red cape. Within the shadows, I’d drawn three wolves watching her.

“I adore that piece.”

Dagen offered me a knowing smile. “You have talent.”

With everyone settled on the couch, the rest of the afternoon flew by. A fire roared, and I had made garlic toast and roasted vegetables, followed by honeyed oats. No complaints from the guys, either. We all sat there, spoons clinking bowls and lips smacking.

“Okay, I’ll be the first to say it,” Nero said. “For food with no meat in it, this is fantastic.”

“See.” I nudged him with my shoulder. “You can still eat well without killing an animal.”

“Not sure I’d go that far.” Oryn stood and collected our plates before heading into the kitchen.

“So what’s the plan?” Dagen swiveled at the end of the sofa to face me. “If the priestess is after you, her guards will return to your shop.”

The meal in my gut churned.

“We can’t stay here forever,” he said.

“Agreed.” Oryn strolled in. “We’ll run tests on the river water all night if that’s what it takes. I can’t let down my pack.” His voice strained.

I rushed after him and grabbed a bowl from the kitchen pantry along with a bottle of vinegar. “Let’s do this. Whatever it takes.”

All three joined me, their arms filled with the jars we’d brought from the store. I ignored the question of what would come next. Focus was the game plan. Help Oryn’s pack. Worry about everything else later.

* * *

I yawned, my eyelids heavy as I sprinkled the last batch of dried leaves into the bowl of vinegar and tainted water. I didn’t even bother to look at the label.

The men had fallen asleep. Oryn was on the sofa, Nero on a nearby chair, while Dagen slept on his back on the floor in front of the fire. The desire to crawl over and join them tugged at me. But instead, I stared into the bowl of water with floating particles. No reaction to any of the samples. Nothing at all, like all the other tests, and it killed me not having a cure for Oryn. His pack would continue to attack each other until what? They turned on the other wolves and butchered them too? What if they entered Terra? They’d kill so many people.

An invisible vise squeezed my chest. I could barely get a breath in.

I didn’t have time to sleep or pretend things would be all right because they wouldn’t be. What I needed were more samples to test. I picked up a candle and match, then marched outside into the night. I didn’t want to wake any of the guys for protection. They deserved a rest, and I’d be back in no time.

A brisk chill encircled me, and I quickened my step. The shuffling of dried foliage sounded near.

“It’s just the wind,” I whispered and hurried down the slope, using the full moon overhead to guide me. I’d walked this path hundreds of times and knew it with my eyes closed.

By the time I reached the store, the hairs on my arms stood on end and it felt as if the night stifled me. But I’d seen how lazy the guards were, and I prayed they weren’t hiding in the woods watching me. I once saw a guard let a thief pass him, insisting he was on his lunch break. I relied on their sloth-like nature.

I tippy-toed across the dark shop, stepping on broken things that once meant the world to me; now they were scattered across the floor like forgotten memories.

My knee hit something, and I bit back the groan. I reached down and patted the corner of my counter on its side.

I set the candle down and lit the wick. At once, the room glowed dimly, and the place still resembled a disaster zone. Shattered cabinets, jars, and years of hard work. What would Grandma have thought if she’d seen what I’d caused?

I choked on my breath, unable to believe the mess I’d gotten myself into, and yet I still had no answer to how I’d deal with the priestess.

In my house slept three men who each held a piece of my heart. Considering their support and love, I held little doubt we weren’t meant to be together. Whoever said a girl had to choose only one guy, anyway.

At my feet lay half a cup with a moon phasing image I’d painted, along with a sachet of tobacco, and the box I used to collect coins for purchases. I crouched and opened the container. Empty. Of course.

More than anything else, I wished my grandma were alive. She’d know what to do next. How to dig myself out of my troubles.

I searched for packets of herbs, and I found a handful, but then, shivering from an icy gust, I faced the hole in the wall. Bastards. The flickering candle from the wind painted shadows across the walls. Well, I couldn’t sit here feeling sorry for myself. Time to get this done.

Focus. That had been Dagen’s word.

Climbing over the mess behind the counter, my foot caught on something. I lost my balance. Pin-wheeling my arms, I yelped, but I fell and hit the floor with my knees. Pain raced up my thighs, and I winced.

With a sickening snap, the wooden floorboards gave way beneath me. I yelled, grasping for the shelf nearby. My knees hit solid ground a foot deep.

“Shit!” Yep, that situation called for swearing.

I pushed myself free, but something stuck to my knee, and I peeled it away. A book. It had a dusty leather jacket and it was tattered at the edges, as if a mouse had been nibbling on it. I’d never seen this before.

Climbing out, I sat with my back to the wall and flipped through the pages, each page scribbled with handwriting. “Morning sickness” titled one page along with a list of ingredients. The next was for a headache, followed by healing broken bones.

A text of remedies! Had it belonged to Grandma?

I flicked through the pages. Dozens of them. Why hadn’t she shared this with me? And here I’d thought she’d had all this knowledge memorized. I laughed as tears pooled in my eyes. She had always teased me about having a terrible memory, and yet she had been just the same.

The word toxic grabbed my attention.

Cure for Toxic Water.

I staggered to my feet and huddled closer to the candle, memorizing the ingredients. Five items, and I had all of them back in my house. This could work as an antidote for Oryn’s pack, as it talked about removing poison from a bucket of water. Maybe I could use it for the river?

I hugged the book to my chest, imagining myself embracing Grandma. Even from the grave, she’d helped me. “Thank you.”

Something fluttered out from the book and landed on my boot. I leaned over and plucked a folded piece of paper.

It was a handwritten letter. Grandma’s. The swirls on her g and y confirmed it.

Dearest Scarlet,

My sweet girl, if you’re reading this, it means one thing. I’ve departed, and I knew you would discover my book. I counted on it. You had a knack for finding anything I hid from you. I can imagine you laughing at having discovered my secret… I will admit, my memory has never been great, so I kept the remedies in a journal. Now it’s yours, my dear.

But there is something else I have kept from you for too long. Please don’t hate me, but this was the only way I could keep you safe. Sometimes secrets serve a purpose.

Wolves didn’t kill your parents.

I lied to protect you from the same fate. The same monster who had taken their lives.

Our priestess slaughtered your mother and father.

“Fuck!” I shuddered so hard, the paper in my hands shook. The corner caught on the candlelight. It took at once, the flame extending, and I panicked, dropping the letter. Quickly, I stomped the fire out and could barely catch my breath. I collected the paper and continued reading.

By not knowing this, then you wouldn’t pry or try to get revenge. I did this for your own safety.

You see, your father was a wolf shifter who had mated with your mom, a human, and they decided to live on the fringes of the Den and Darkwoods. But one day your parents came into Terra to collect you, as you’d spent the weekend with me. Except the guards spotted your father transforming in the woods near the border. Your mother tried to save him. But the priestess demanded both their deaths without a trial. Their bodies were then discarded over a cliff. The priestess had no idea they had a young child. So I kept you with me and told everyone wolves had murdered your parents.

That day I thought I would die from losing my baby girl. But having you with me kept me sane.

Dozens of times I contemplated telling you the truth but couldn’t. You displayed no signs of carrying wolf blood and never changed during full moons, so I kept quiet.

Please forgive me for telling you this way, but it was a safeguard in case I didn’t get the courage to let you know. I feared you’d leave me for keeping such a secret. But no matter what, you will always be my dearest, Scarlet.

I love you so much. No matter our distance.

Grandma.

Sliding to the floor, I sat there, gripping the letter, rocking back and forth. My head hurt, and the food in my gut toiled into a mess ready to spurt out.

My legs wobbled beneath me, and I stumbled into the wall, barely able to hold myself upright.

The priestess had murdered my parents? I was part shifter?

Was this happening? Everything twisted in my mind. Dad was a wolf, but I didn’t recall seeing him transform. This whole time, my parents’ death had been a lie. No wonder I’d never had a burial place for them. No wonder my grandma had always changed the topic when I’d asked. No one in town had questioned it since most believed wolves were savages.

Tears flowed, and I didn’t care. Why had my mom been butchered if she was human? There was no law against marrying shifters. The priestess just loathed anyone associated with them.

A burning fire seared through my chest, hatred driving my pulse into a frenzy. I got up and paced along the back wall, stepping over broken teapots and tea leaves. The priestess didn’t deserve to live. Who was she to decide who lived or died? I ignored the irony of my thoughts because I didn’t care. I just detested the priestess.

Grandma should have told me and let me make my own decision. I scrunched up her letter and tossed it toward the remedy book. The one she’d referred to when helping so many townsfolk with ailments.

None of that mattered. Not when I wanted to rip out the priestess’ throat.

A guttural growl rolled through me, just as it had back in the forest when I’d encountered her relocating the wolfsbane, trying to take over Den territory.

Wait! Had I snarled because of my inner wolf? Was this why Nero had insisted his wolf had bonded with me, claimed me? As had Oryn’s and Dagen’s?

My breaths raced. Would my life have been different if I’d known the truth? I hiccupped my next inhale and blinked away the tears.

Grandma had lied, and I understood she’d had good reasons, yet her secret chipped at my soul.

It left me lost, questioning everything I’d thought I’d known about myself.

I rubbed my temples and looked out into the woods cloaked in night. Before I could find my thoughts, I stormed out of the store and rushed into the forest, needing fresh air, anything to make sense of my confusion.

Overhead, the pregnant moon hung in the heavens.

I turned toward my home, desperate to do something other than let sorrow swallow me whole.

Branches whacked into my face, snagged on clothes, and I stopped near a dead log and crashed against it, crying hard into my hands. For losing my parents, my grandma, and my time with them.

A crunch of foliage came from behind me.

I jerked around, expecting one of the hunters.

Instead, a rope fell over my head. Heavy and thick, pressing down on my shoulders. I screamed.

Two figures approached, chortling like hyenas, wearing dark uniforms. Guards.

They tugged on the rope attached to the mesh, throwing me backward. Air gushed from my lungs.

“No. Please, no!” I shoved against the net, but it tightened, forcing my knees to my chest.

Dread squeezed my heart, and I yelled as they hauled me across the forest floor, the foliage tearing at my back.