LOGINBut the stories always ended the same way: the white wolf either killed every hunter in a hundred-mile radius, or died breeding a new pack into the ground.I glanced at Thomas, at the places where Ava’s claws had split him. “You know what this means, don’t you.”He nodded, then shook his head. “You
EvelynThomas was sitting on the island, shirtless, both feet dangling off the side like a bored lifeguard. He held a bloody dish towel pressed to his chest.I pulled the light in closer, flicked on the under-cabinet LEDs, and started unwrapping the bandage.He didn’t react, not even when I caught a
EvelynThe wolf exploded off the patio, fur and teeth and weight enough to topple a linebacker. Thomas caught it, just barely. His head cracked against the flagstone with a dull, flat thud I felt in the backs of my own teeth.He’d gotten his forearms up in time. The jaws closed on his sleeve, tearin
EvelynHe started pacing around her, slow at first, then faster. “Don’t think,” he said. “Move. Just move.”She tracked him with her body, every muscle tensed, like she was waiting for an attack. I recognized the tactic; it was old pack logic, straight out of the hierarchy training Catherine used to
EvelynI kept to the edge of the patio, arms folded and mug balanced in the crook of my elbow, trying to look like a parent chaperoning recess and not a scientist observing a controlled detonation.Thomas had taken over. He always did, eventually. It was a relief, in a way, to be on the sidelines, w
AvaI told my mother I was fine with Thomas. No grudge, no drama. He’d been the least intrusive adult in my life for the past fifteen years, and even after he started doing the “partner” thing with Evelyn, he never got weird or tried to parent me. That made him tolerable. More than I could say for m







