Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 62782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 314(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 314(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
I climb out of my truck to survey the damage and to look for clues. Glass crunches beneath my feet as I peek inside the vehicle. Wyatt’s shotgun is still sitting in the front seat. I pull it out, check to make sure it’s loaded, and keep it in my grip as I round the front of the vehicle.
What sort of creature has the power to cut such deep, long gouges into metal?
My wolf sniffles, trying to help scent out this monster. Nothing. No trace of anything. Not even Wyatt, which niggles at me.
Think, Cy.
I’m a massive failure for letting my father down. If he knew how much of what he spent all that time teaching me was suppressed in an effort to save my sanity, he’d be incredibly disappointed. Probably call me weak or useless or undeserving.
He wouldn’t.
Dad wasn’t cruel.
But he also wasn’t who I thought he was. As those ugly memories rear their head, I shake them away to focus on the here and now.
I walk over to the sign that shows a map of the several trails running up and around Red Hake Mountain. This will take all day trying to figure out where he could have gone. After shooting Jax a quick text of what I found, I pocket my phone and start for the closest path.
At first, I don’t find anything. No scent. No clues. Nothing. But then I smell the distinct metallic twang of blood. The trail is quiet, free of any hikers today. It’s overcast and cold, the threat of an early winter kissing my cheeks any time the wind blows. I crunch along the path, my footsteps heavy but not necessarily loud. Having spent most of my adult life in the woods, I know how to make my way as soundlessly as possible, though in shifted form, it’s a helluva lot easier.
The path veers to the right and takes a steep incline that ascends the mountain. But beyond the sharp curve, the woods beckon for me. Blood tinges the air, urging me off the path and into the thick trees. Carefully, I make my way across the leaf-covered earth and into the thicket. My heart thrums wildly inside my chest. The increased cadence of it alerts my pack, and I’m surprised to feel Remy first, the bond quaking with nervous energy from him. If I wasn’t in the middle of trying to figure out what the fuck happened to Wyatt, I’d revel in the pleasure of Remy dropping his guard.
I’m fine.
My words—words I know he can hear—are crisp inside my head. I sense his understanding, which pleases me. All pleasure evaporates when something silver glints from the leaves. I squat down, setting the shotgun beside me to investigate. Keys. Scooping them up, I turn them over in my palm. It’s the same emblem on one of the keys as was on Wyatt’s car. These are his. I know it. Shoving them into my pocket, I grab the shotgun and rise to my feet. I scan the area, looking for anything else that might be around. At first glance, I don’t see anything, but another hundred yards or so, the wind whistles through the trees. Blood, heady and thick, dances around me. I’m close. Up ahead, material catches my eye. I trudge over to it, expecting the worst, but sigh in relief when I don’t encounter a body.
My relief is short-lived, though, when I realize it’s Wyatt’s shirt. Next to it is his wallet, flipped open with his face staring up at me from his driver’s license, blood splattered across the plastic covering.
Fuck.
I yank my phone out, snap a picture, and then call Jax.
This shit doesn’t ever end.
Remy
The chill that ripples down my spine makes me shudder so hard Rey shoots me a concerned look. I force a smile past my lips, but it doesn’t reach my eyes. A quick, assessing sweep of Judd’s gaze tells me he knows something’s up but thankfully doesn’t press.
My phone buzzes in my pocket.
Cash: What is it?
His stare bores into me from his spot next to his sleeping brother.
Me: Nothing. Just worried is all.
Cash: Where do you think Wyatt is?
I try not to react, but that’s exactly my cause for the visible reaction. I’d heard Cyrus inside my head.
Found his wallet. Blood. Keys. I called the sheriff.
I can’t explain to Cash that I can hear Cy just like I can hear my own thoughts. He’s a human who won’t understand that crazy shit. And though I’m a human too, and I’m clearly not going to ever shift, I’m linked to this pack. One fleeting glance at Rey and Judd tells me they can’t hear Cy’s thoughts either, though. Since Cy hasn’t exactly offered up that information, I don’t want to be the one to tell them.
Another one of my and Cy’s secrets.