Chapter 1 

Grace

Exhaustion tugged at Grace's limbs. The last few weeks of ten-hour shifts at Utah Valley Hospital were beginning to affect her. But that wasn't the end of her day. No, in a way, she felt like her second shift began the moment she set foot through the door of the second-story apartment she called home.

"How was he?" she asked the babysitter none too enthusiastically. She could already tell by the look on the sitter's face that it hadn't gone well.

For eight long years, Grace and her son Blake had been fine on their own. Blake had the same sitter for all that time. Then, the last two years changed everything. They had been through more sitters than she cared to count.

"E-everything was fine until I asked him to get ready for bed," the woman said. The terror in her eyes told Grace she was lucky to find her still at the apartment.

The way the young woman clutched to her forearm made Grace nervous. "What happened? Are you hurt?" She didn't even need to see the still-bleeding scratches beneath the woman's hand to know the truth.

"He…he lost it," the sitter said. "I know he's a good kid, but…but I'm sorry. I can't do this anymore."

Grace sighed deeply. This was the fifth time that month she had heard those words. At least this one had lasted a little over a week. She only hoped the sitter would keep her mouth shut about what she saw.

Digging into her purse, Grace pulled out triple what she owed and met the babysitter’s terrified gaze. "Can I count on your discretion?"

She raised a brow, offering what she hoped was a threatening expression. She didn’t like doing this, but what choice did she have? Her family would say she had to take the woman's life, enslave her, maybe even turn her. But how could she, when she couldn't even shift?

‘Maybe Mom was right’, she thought, remembering Brenda Olivers' insistence that she return to Black Diamond, a secluded town surrounded by mountains, practically cut off from the rest of the world.

But going back meant facing Caspian McCloud. The very reason she had left.

Even now, ten years later, she could still see his glossy brown hair, that arrogant smile, those cocky, chocolate-brown eyes that infuriated her. She could still hear the taunting twang of Scottish accent that lingered in the McCloud bloodline, even though they'd settled in America generations ago.

The tightening in her gut at the thought of him was enough to keep her away.

"Miss Olivers?" the babysitter said, trembling. Grace realized she’d zoned out.

"I—I swear I won’t say anything. Please, I really need this money." She tried to take the notes Grace still gripped, as if they were the only thing keeping her afloat.

Grace studied her. She had seen that same desperation in her own mirror. The sitter wouldn’t say a word, Grace could tell. And for now, she and Blake wouldn’t have to pack up and leave in the middle of the night.

"Don't worry," she said, forcing a small smile. "You’ve more than earned it. Let me look at that before you go?" She gestured to the woman's wound. "I keep a first aid kit under the sink."

"No! No, it's fine," the babysitter said quickly, taking the money before slipping past her. "It's just a scratch."

And just like that, she was gone.

Sighing, Grace locked the door and walked down the hall to Blake’s bedroom. The door was ajar, but she still knocked gently, bracing herself for what she might find inside.

The wrecked chest of drawers, torn-up pillows, and shredded carpet told her all she needed to know. In the middle of the destruction, Blake lay half-hanging off the bed, his small body exhausted.

Ten years old, and he was already drowning in werewolf aggression. Claws and fangs appearing when rage took him, losing control at the slightest provocation.

It was heartbreaking. It was unusual too.

And worse, Grace could do nothing about it.

She had never gone through it herself.

Though she’d felt her wolf beneath the surface as a child, she had never been able to access her.

And after losing her biological parents, her wolf had grown even more reclusive.

Sometimes, she wondered if she was even a werewolf at all.

How could she possibly hope to raise a werewolf alone when she had never experienced the things Blake was experiencing?

It was a conundrum she had faced for long enough. Deep down, she knew the answer, but it was only now, as she stood staring at Blake’s bedroom for what felt like an eternity, that she finally allowed herself to admit it: she couldn't possibly hope to raise him alone.

She had held off for long enough. She had to return to Black Diamond. She had to return to her pack. She had to return to him.

Carefully, she clicked the door shut and pulled her cell phone from her jeans pocket. Though it was well past midnight, she knew her mother would not begrudge her this call.

"Grace, what is it? What is the matter?" Brenda Olivers demanded the second she answered the phone, ever the overprotective and caring mother no matter the distance between them.

"Mom, we're coming home," Grace announced through gritted teeth. The defeat that flattened her insides made her feel sick.

"Oh, Grace!” her adopted mother cried. “Thank the great wolf. You have no idea how long I have waited for this day!"

"Shh!" Grace hissed. She wasn't sure how good her son's hearing was nowadays, with his growing connection to his wolf. The last thing she wanted was for him to wake up before she was prepared to tell him the news. "Blake's asleep, and it’s for his sake we're coming. It happened again."

"Again? Was anyone hurt?" Brenda asked, and Grace gulped at the question.

"Not badly, though the sitter looked about ready to jump out of the window to save her own skin," she admitted, pressing her thumb and forefinger into the bridge of her nose.

"Then it’s well past time you come home, Grace," Brenda said sternly. "You sound exhausted."

Grace huffed. "I am."

"Then worry not. Everything will be ready and waiting for you the moment you get here," Brenda announced. "Your brother and I can't wait to see you and the little man."

"He's not so little anymore, Mom," Grace admitted, feeling a little guilty. Save for the odd time that her mother and brother had visited them over the years, Blake had barely met his family.

How he would react now that they were headed home, she had no clue. All she could do was worry. She had left so much behind in a hurry when she'd left Black Diamond all those years ago. She wasn't sure she would ever be welcomed back with open arms, let alone ten years later.

Though her eyes still welled up when she thought of the town sheltered by mountains, the freezing cold, snow-covered winters and the blazing hot summers spent down by the lake that the town surrounded. Sometimes, while walking through a city, she still looked up in the hopes of seeing the snow-capped mountains in the distance.

She had always missed home and yet she couldn’t afford to be sentimental right now. She had to think of Blake. He was her world now. The past was the past. It had to stay that way.

"Mom, please don't make a big fuss," Grace pleaded. "We aren't coming back to stay for a long time. We're only coming because Blake needs the pack right now."

"Oh, Grace. Must you always be so doom and gloom?" Brenda protested, sounding far too cheery for Grace's liking.

"Yes," Grace said simply. "I'll see you soon, Mom. Love you." Tears welled in her eyes as defeat washed over her once more. Before Brenda could say another word, she hung up.

It would take all her courage to return home, and she didn't need to feel any more guilt about leaving so long ago. A clawing in the pit of her stomach told her she should stay away a bit longer, but when she closed her eyes, all she could see was the disaster of her son's room.

She had waited too long to return already. But what would Caspian do when she turned up after all these years? Would he even give her the time of day? Only now, Grace realized that she had never asked her mother about him, and her mother had never mentioned anything about a pack member who wasn't her or her brother.

Perhaps that had been for the best, but now she felt like a fish out of water. And going home was just as frightening, if not more than it had been to run away in the first place.

A wolfless werewolf returning to her pack after ten years without a word and with a pup at her hip? It didn't bear thinking about. 

But what other choice did she have?