CHAPTER 14

JAYDEN

I sprinted through the trees, my legs slicing through the underbrush like they belonged to the forest itself.

Jerome flanked me on the left. Mark on the right. None of us spoke.

We didn’t need to.

The scent trail was fresh—too fresh. Faint, like someone wanted to be noticed, but only just enough.

“Anything?” I called out without slowing.

Mark grunted. “Nothing solid yet. But they were here.”

Jerome pointed ahead, eyes narrowed. “This way. The prints curve north—away from the border.”

Smart. Whoever it was didn’t want confrontation.

Not yet.

But they wanted us aware.

That’s what pissed me off most.

They weren’t attacking. They were testing.

I pushed harder, my breath steady, jaw tight. The trees thinned, and we burst into a clearing where the scent vanished—abruptly, unnaturally.

I skidded to a halt, scanning the earth. “They covered their trail.”

“Definitely rogues,” Jerome muttered. “Or someone trained like one.”

No broken twigs. No lingering scent. The grass had been trampled then brushed—just enough to make the trail go cold.

My fists curled. My wolf was itching beneath my skin, ready to rip something apart, but now wasn’t the time. Not yet.

“Let’s double back,” I ordered. “Scan wider. Then head in.”

They nodded, and we turned as one.

For the next two hours, we swept every inch of that perimeter. Shifted into our wolves again. Ran hard. Nothing.

Not a single damn trace.

Whatever—or whoever—left those prints knew what they were doing. They moved like ghosts. Left no scent, no trail, no disturbance. That wasn’t carelessness. That was precision.

Eventually, I slowed to a stop, breath heavy but steady as I shifted back into human form. My skin felt too tight. My instincts were on fire. And still—we had nothing.

Jerome shifted beside me with a growl. “Feels like a waste of energy.”

“No,” I said, pulling my pants back on and walking toward the parked car. “This wasn’t a waste. It’s a warning. And I’m not ignoring it.”

Mark tossed me a shirt from the backseat. “So what’s the next move?”

“We hit every neighboring pack,” I said, pulling it over my head. “Ask questions. See if this happened anywhere else.”

Jerome slid into the passenger seat with a grunt. “Old-school patrol recon. Love it.”

We didn’t waste time.

By late afternoon, we’d already passed through three neighboring packs.

All of them gave the same answer: nothing unusual. No strangers. No disturbances. No ghosts.

Until we reached the last one.

Alpha Mace. Stern. Disciplined. Always guarded—but not dishonest.

He met us on the front lawn of his pack house, arms folded.

“Alpha Jayden,” he said with a nod. “You’re far from your land.”

“Doing a sweep,” I said. “Something’s not sitting right near my west perimeter. Thought I’d check in. Anything strange on your end?”

He shook his head. “No signs of anything odd inside our borders. But…”

I leaned forward. “But what?”

Mace exhaled, scratching at the gray in his beard. “It’s probably nothing. But last week, a small new pack came through. Said they were migrating, looking for a place to settle down. Peaceful. No signs of trouble. But… something felt off.”

“What kind of off?”

“They were polite. Too polite,” he said with a shrug. “Felt rehearsed. One of my enforcers swears they didn’t blink the whole damn time.”

Jerome and I exchanged a look.

I stepped forward. “What’s the name of their pack?”

Mace looked at me. “They call themselves the Vanguard.”

“And where are they now?”

“They’re camped about 75 kilometers southeast of here. Deep enough to stay unnoticed, but not so far that they can’t reach other territories.”

I nodded slowly. “And their Alpha?”

“Introduced himself as Cassian. Didn’t give a last name.”

I felt the hairs rise on my arms.

Cassian.

A new name.

A new threat.

And not a single goddamn coincidence in sight.

“Thanks for the information, Mace,” I said, clapping his shoulder. “Keep your borders tight.”

“Always do,” he replied.

I turned to Jerome and Mark. “Let’s head to this Vanguard pack. I want eyes on them.”

Jerome raised an eyebrow. “You think they’re behind the prints?”

“I think they’re something. And I’m done guessing.”

We drove southeast in silence, the road winding tighter as we got closer to the woods where Alpha Mace said they’d camped.

It took us about forty minutes to reach the outer edge of their land.

No walls. No gates. Just open woods and quiet tension.

But the moment we stepped out of the car, we felt it.

Eyes.

Hidden movements.

Wolves, watching.

“Not exactly friendly,” Mark muttered.

“Nope,” I said, walking ahead.

We didn’t make it far before three men stepped out of the trees in formation. All dressed cleanly. Eyes unreadable. Calm — too calm.

One of them nodded. “Alpha Cassian has been expecting you.”

I blinked. “Has he?”

They didn’t answer. Just turned and led us deeper into the trees.

We followed until the forest broke into a clearing with several tents and makeshift buildings. In the center stood a tall man, arms folded, posture straight. His hair was midnight black, eyes like wet steel.

He looked like he belonged in a war zone.

“Alpha Jayden,” he said before I could speak. “Pleasure.”

I didn’t offer a hand. “Cassian.”

He smiled without warmth. “I assume you’re not here for a visit.”

“I’m here because someone’s watching my pack from the shadows. And you’re the only new presence in this region.”

Cassian nodded slowly. “Understandable. We are new. And cautious. We don’t want war.”

“You camping this close is a form of war,” I said flatly. “You didn’t announce yourselves to all nearby Alphas.”

“I introduced myself to Mace and a few others. That’s customary.”

“But not enough.”

His smile vanished.

“We’re not a threat,” he said calmly.

“Then prove it,” I said. “Let me see your wolves. Let me speak to your second hand.”

“That would imply I answer to you.”

“No,” I stepped closer, my voice low. “That implies you’re not hiding anything.”

There was a silence.

Then, finally, Cassian said, “We’re only passing through. A few weeks, no more. We’ll move south.”

“I want daily reports on your movements until you leave,” I said.

Cassian’s jaw ticked, but he nodded.

“One more thing,” I added. “If I find out anyone in your pack stepped even a toe into mine… I won’t talk next time. I’ll act.”

Cassian’s face didn’t change. “Understood.”

But there was something behind his eyes.

Not fear. Not obedience.

Patience.

That scared me more than a snarl ever could.

We turned and left. I didn’t speak until we were back in the car.

Then I finally said what I was thinking.

“He’s hiding something. And it’s not just a secret—it’s a plan.”

Jerome exhaled. “You think he’s here for the pack?”

I shook my head.

“No,” I said. “He’s here for me.”

His aura looks familiar. Like a shadow from a nightmare I thought I’d buried long ago. But where the hell had I felt it before? That cold steel in his eyes—like the weight of a past I couldn’t quite place. It clawed at my gut, twisting unease deeper.

I climbed into the car, the engine humming to life beneath my hands. As I pulled away, my eyes flicked to the treeline—and there he was. Cassian. Standing like a dark sentinel, emerging from the forest’s edge. His gaze burned into me like a blade through bone, sharp and unblinking.

A shiver crawled up my spine.

I shifted my hand to the compartment beside me, digging through the clutter until my fingers closed around my phone. Flicked it on.

Two missed calls. From Catriona.

And a voicemail.

I hit play, my heart tightening the moment her voice spilled out—

>Jayden, when you see this, call me ASAP.

I tapped the screen and called her back, voice low, edged with concern.

“I felt something. What happened?”

“Jayden… I don’t even know where to start.”

That voice. It wasn’t just tired or stressed. It was fractured. Like the pieces of her had been shattered and scattered somewhere I couldn’t reach.

There was a breath, shaky, then her words.

“The paintings… in Abriel’s playroom. They’re… different now. Not like before. And Gabriel… he came to the packhouse today.”

I felt a cold rush slam into me.

“Gabriel? What did he want?”

Her voice trembled, like she was holding back a storm.

I gripped the steering wheel harder, jaw tightening.

“And Abriel? Is he… mine?”

Silence.

Then her quiet, almost broken answer.

“I don’t know what to think now. But… Can you come home?”

My fist clenched so tight my knuckles went white.

Calm, but every word dripping with a quiet rage, alright, Catriona, “I’m coming home.”

I ended the call and stared ahead, breath heavy.

“Jerome,” I said, my voice rough, “Drive.”

He glanced over, question in his eyes. I just shook my head.

“Just… drive. I’m afraid I’ll crush something if I take the wheel.”

Jerome didn’t say a word. He simply nodded and slid into the driver’s seat.

Mark stayed silent in the back, watching.

I leaned back, trying to breathe through the storm inside me.

“Drive to the Blood Moon Pack,” I said, voice hard as steel.

Jerome raised his eyes briefly, then nodded again.

---

The car’s tires crunched over the familiar gravel as we rolled onto Blood Moon Pack territory. The sky was bruised purple, the sun bleeding out its last light behind the jagged hills.

Jerome parked near the gate, where the carved wolf’s head above the entrance glared down at us like a silent judge.

I didn’t knock.

I stormed through the front doors of Gabriel’s house like I owned the damn place, my aura flooding every corner.

Jerome and Mark flanked me without a word, but I didn’t need backup.

I wasn’t here for diplomacy.

I was here for blood.

“Gabriel!” I roared, my voice shaking the walls. “Get out here!”

A beat.

Then footsteps.

He emerged from a hallway, calm as ever, like my rage was a summer breeze.

“Jayden,” he said evenly, “this is a surprise.”

I didn’t reply.

I let my fist do the talking.

Crack.

My knuckles smashed against his jaw with a clean, brutal strike that sent him staggering backward into the wall, cracking it on impact.

Jerome didn’t move. Neither did Mark.

This wasn’t unexpected.

Gabriel wiped his mouth, blood on his lip, then slowly looked up at me with narrowed eyes. “You done?”

“No,” I growled, closing the space between us again. “I warned you. I warned you to stay away from my family.”

“I didn’t touch her,” he said through his teeth. “I only came to talk.”

“That’s the problem,” I snapped. “You don’t get to talk to her. You don’t get to speak his name.”

Gabriel stood straight, shoulders squaring. “And what if he is mine?”

The room dropped into silence.

That name. That word. Mine.

It echoed like a challenge.

I stepped in, nose to nose now, voice cold as death. “Say that again, and I’ll bury you in this floor.”

But Gabriel didn’t back down. “Then maybe you should be more worried about why he came to me. About what he’s seeing. About what he’s hearing in your house.”

I shoved him hard against the wall again. “You think this is about spirit games and riddles? That boy is mine. You’re nothing but a footnote in a life he doesn’t need.”

Gabriel’s eyes flashed with fury, but he stayed still, breathing hard. “I didn’t come for him. He came to me.”

“That’s bullshit, and you know it.”

“I didn’t make him call me Dad.”

That one hit different.

Something in me flinched — a deep, ugly sting that pierced bone.

I backed off a step, breathing heavy.

“You ever say that again…” I whispered, “and you won’t be able to speak another word.”

Gabriel’s chest rose and fell.

He didn’t fight back.

He didn’t have to.

Because he knew what hurt me.

And it wasn’t fists or claws.

It was doubt.

I turned, signaling to Jerome and Mark.

“We’re done here.”

But as I reached the door, I heard Gabriel’s voice one more time — quiet, but loaded with something dangerous.

“Whatever’s happening to that little boy, Jayden… it’s bigger than you or me. You feel it. Just like I do.”

I didn’t turn around.

I stood there, back to him, fists clenched at my sides. Muscles locked. Jaw tight.

Then I heard him add, quieter this time—“Instead of causing chaos… we could work together. To help that boy. He needs more than just one of us now.”

My breath caught, sharp and ragged.

Together?

He had the nerve.

To suggest partnership.

To even breathe like he had a stake in Abriel’s life, like he hadn’t just ripped open every buried fear in my chest with one word — Dad.

I didn’t give him the dignity of a response.

No last glance.

No words.

Just my boots pounding the floor as I stormed out, the sound of the door slamming behind me like thunder.

Jerome was already behind the wheel when I reached the car.

“You good?” he asked, eyes flicking to mine in the rearview.

I climbed in, exhaling slowly — the kind of breath that comes before the storm hits.

“No,” I said. “Drive.”

As the car pulled away from the Blood Moon Pack, the road blurred, but my thoughts were razor sharp.

His words clung to me like oil.

> “We could work together…”

No.

He doesn’t get to say we.

He doesn’t get to claim a boy he never bled for, never stayed up all night with, never loved in silence when that boy couldn’t even look him in the eye.

That boy is mine.

Whatever this darkness is — spirits, visions, gods or ghosts — I’ll face it.

But not with Gabriel. But with Catriona. And our son.