Chapter 5: The Man in the Long Coat

Nobody in the infirmary spoke.

Through the narrow window in the door, the man in the dark coat stood at the end of the corridor with his hands in his pockets. He didn't move. He didn't need to. The air itself seemed to lean toward him.

Hudson stepped between Nora and the door. It was a small movement, easy to miss, but she noticed that the lazy grin was gone and his shoulders had gone rigid.

"Blackthorne," he muttered.

"You know him," Nora said.

"Everyone in the Pack Lands knows him. Fifteen years an Enforcer, and he's never lost a hunt." Hudson's jaw tightened. "He's also match number ten, which I'm assuming you worked out."

"I did."

"He doesn't come to Moonstone. Not once in fifteen years. And he picks tonight." Hudson looked down at her. "Do you want me to send him away?"

Nora thought about the black wolf who had killed a rogue to save a stranger's child, and the pen in the dim courtyard, and the way his gold eyes had held hers a beat too long.

"No," she said. "I'd like to hear what he has to say."

Hudson didn't like it. She saw him not like it. But he nodded and stepped aside, and Alexander Blackthorne walked down the corridor and opened the door.

Up close he was bigger than she'd remembered. The scar through his eyebrow was pale and old. His coat smelled of woodsmoke and cold iron, and when he looked at her, the gold in his eyes warmed by a single shade.

"Miss Whitlock."

"Mr. Blackthorne."

"Alexander will do." His glance flicked to Mason's cot, then to the dim green traces still clinging to her sleeves. "That was well done."

Nora's stomach dropped. "I don't know what you mean."

"Of course." He said it so gently that it took her a moment to realize he hadn't believed a word. "Hudson, give us the room."

"I'm her match too," Hudson said.

"You are. And you have a squad meeting in ten minutes, which you'll want to be on time for." Alexander's voice never rose. It didn't have to. "I won't harm her. You have my word as an Enforcer."

A muscle ticked in Hudson's cheek. He looked at Nora. "Shout if you need me. I'll hear."

"I know," she said, and was surprised to realize it was true.

He left. The door clicked shut.

---

Alexander pulled the stool away from the cot and sat across from her, close enough that she could see the faint silver in his black hair.

"I should begin with an apology," he said. "I let you walk onto a train alone. I should have sent an escort."

"You saved my life on that train."

"I saved a child's life. You saved yours." He said it flatly, a plain fact. "I watched you take down three rogue wolves in a dining car without anyone seeing your hands. The wood and the lightning. Two elements in one body. That should not be possible."

Nora said nothing. Her pulse thudded in her ears.

"The Pack Council keeps a registry of every female born with spirit power," Alexander went on. "Rank, element, bloodline. Yours says: C-plus, no element, Silver Hollow line. Nothing else. Nothing about lightning. Nothing about green fire that can pull a wolf back from the edge." He tilted his head. "So I'd like to know what you are, Miss Whitlock."

"I'm a girl who's tired and wants to go home."

"Ah." The corner of his mouth moved, almost a smile. "That I can help with. But I'm afraid the answer isn't simple."

He leaned forward, forearms on his knees.

"The opening ceremony on Saturday is not what the students have been told. Every year the Council runs what it calls a Blessing of the Moon, a public ritual in which each first-year's spirit is measured by the Well in front of the faculty. It's meant to be a celebration. This year, a few people on the board have added something to the program."

"Such as?"

"A Reading." His eyes darkened. "They want to know whether any of this year's girls carries a bloodline the Council has hunted for a hundred years. They suspect one does. They don't know which."

The room felt suddenly colder. "A bloodline."

"The Greenwardens."

The word dropped into her chest like a stone into a well, and something old inside her wolf stirred and went very still.

"They were healers," Alexander said. "The last of them died before I was born. Their gift was to soothe a feral male without a bond, just by touch. The Council claimed they were dangerous. They said no female should have that much power over wolves." His voice was calm, but under it she heard something else, a thing that had been smoldering for years. "Most of the bloodline was burned out of the Pack Lands. A few daughters escaped. The Council has been looking for their descendants ever since."

Nora's mouth was dry. "And you think I'm one of them."

"I think you walked onto a sand pit and pulled an S-ranked wolf out of a full feral state with a single hand," Alexander said. "And I think by Saturday, three hundred people will have seen the footage."

She closed her eyes. Of course they had.

"So the text," she said. "Do not attend the opening ceremony. That was you."

Alexander was silent for a moment.

"No," he said.

Nora's eyes snapped open. "What?"

"I did not send you any text." His brow furrowed for the first time. "I intended to tell you in person. Tonight. I came to the arena for that reason."

"Then who...?"

"I don't know." He rose to his feet. "But someone besides me knows what you are. And they want you away from Saturday, which means they are either trying to protect you or trying to flush you out."

The room seemed to tilt. Nora gripped the edge of the cot. "Why are you telling me all this?"

"Because I'm your mate, Miss Whitlock." Simple, unvarnished. "The Well chose me. I don't know why. I am thirty-nine years old, I have no talent for tenderness, and I have not been touched by a she-wolf in sixteen years. But I know what it is to have the Council take everything from you. And I will not stand by while they take it from you."

For the first time, she noticed his hands. The knuckles were pale, as if he were holding something enormous back by sheer force.

She thought of Mason, who had waited two years for her. Of Hudson, who had lied to a guard to buy her ninety seconds. Of Jackson, who had melted under her palm like a candle.

Ten of them, she thought dizzily. All of them already acting like they belong to me.

"What do you want me to do?" she asked.

"Be careful. Keep your hands covered. Trust the people who hide your power instead of exposing it." His voice softened. "And let me walk you home."

---

The night air outside the arena smelled of pine and cut grass. Alexander walked half a step behind her and to the left, a position that would shield her from the nearest approach. She noticed that he did it without being asked.

They had nearly reached Birchwood Hall when a voice rang out behind them.

"Nora! Oh, Nora, there you are!"

Savannah Whitlock swept up the path in a long white coat, golden hair loose over her shoulders, wearing a smile as sweet as spun sugar. Two girls in matching coats trailed behind her.

"Savannah," Nora said evenly.

"I've been looking everywhere. I saw what happened at the arena. You were so brave!" Savannah clasped her hands and turned to Alexander, and her eyes went very wide and bright. "And you must be Mr. Blackthorne. I've heard so much about you. I'm Nora's sister."

"I know who you are," Alexander said.

It was not a warm sentence, but Savannah's smile never faltered. "I'm sure she hasn't told you, but we were very close growing up. I just want her to be safe. There are rumors that she's gotten herself mixed up in some very strange magic." She laid a hand lightly on his sleeve. "A girl like that, with ten mates? It's overwhelming. If she needs help, I could take a few of them off her hands."

Nora's grip on her bag tightened. "That's generous."

"It's the least I can do." Savannah's smile curved. "Family should share."

Alexander looked down at the hand on his sleeve. Then he looked up, and the temperature of the night dropped ten degrees.

"Miss Whitlock," he said politely. "Remove your hand."

Savannah removed it.

"My mates are not a charity," Nora said, and her voice came out much calmer than she felt. "Good night, Savannah."

She turned and walked on. Behind her, she heard a sharp, quiet intake of breath, and then the click of retreating heels.

Alexander escorted her to her door. "Remember what I said."

"I will."

"Lock this. Don't open it for anyone who isn't on your match list."

She almost laughed. "That's ten people."

"Then you have ten reasons to feel safe." He inclined his head. "Good night, Nora."

It was the first time he had used her first name.

She locked the door, leaned against it, and let out a slow breath. In her pocket, her phone buzzed.

An unknown number, the same as before.

He's lying. Ask him what really happened at Lake Larch.