EvelynBy the time we pulled up to the gas station, my legs were half numb and my mind was already racing faster than the truck's tires. The place was quiet, too quiet. One of those old-fashioned stations with flickering overhead lights and a single booth that looked like it hadn’t seen a mop in years. It made my skin crawl, but I kept my face calm.Matthew Turner, the hunter-turned-good-Samaritan, or so he claimed, cut the engine and pointed toward the little booth. “There’s a landline inside, if the storm didn’t fry it. Go ahead and try your call, I’ll top up the tank.”“Thanks,” I said with a nod, pushing the door open. The cold air slapped me in the face, making me realize just how long I’d been walking under the elements. My bones were aching, especially my lower back. I walked briskly to the booth, trying not to glance back at the deer carcass in the truck bed. One look at that thing and I might throw up.Inside, I grabbed the dusty phone and dialed Leo’s number. It rang. Once.
EvelynThe truck rumbled steadily beneath us, the tires humming along the quiet asphalt road. I sat stiffly in the passenger seat, arms crossed over my chest to keep warm, though the cold didn't really bother me. Not physically, at least. But emotionally? My nerves were frozen solid.The man driving kept glancing at me out of the corner of his eye, trying to be subtle about it but doing a terrible job."So..." he finally spoke up, tapping the steering wheel lightly with his fingers. "You never told me what you were doing all the way out here, alone."I blinked, keeping my gaze fixed on the dashboard. It was easier not to look at him directly, to keep some distance. “Just... got lost.”“Right. Lost. In the middle of nowhere, right after an eclipse that nearly wiped out my entire signal system? Either you’ve got the worst luck in the world or you’re running from something, sweetheart.”I gave him a small, tired smile. “Can’t it be both?”That earned me a full laugh this time. Deep and g
EvelynI couldn’t stop thinking about it.The Flare witches.I kept replaying Daniel’s words in my head, over and over like some twisted record stuck on repeat. Fluke witches… flame witches… fleer… until he landed on it, not that he got it right. It was the Flare witches. The second he said it right, I felt it in my bones.Damn it.Why was it always them?Every corner I turned, every secret unearthed, somehow their name managed to creep into the cracks. The Blackwoods' second life gene, Flare witches. The sealed power beneath the soil? Flare witches. The eclipse and its eerie grip on our kind? Probably the damn witches again.I let out a tired, almost bitter laugh. “What other mess were they involved in, huh?” I muttered under my breath, brushing a loose strand of hair away from my face.It was like history had been hiding them in plain sight, and only now were the pieces starting to fit together. But not quite, just
EvelynDaniel laughed. Like a deep, belly-aching laugh that bounced off the trees and echoed into the clearing. It wasn’t the kind of laugh someone gave when they were amused, it was the laugh of someone teetering off the edge.“God,” he said, wiping imaginary tears from his eyes. “That’s the dumbest theory I’ve ever heard.” He took a step toward me, his expression shifting from gleeful to defensive. “So what if I feel a little sick? Huh? Big fucking deal. I’m a werewolf. The strongest damn one to ever walk this fucking planet. I’ll heal.”I just stood there, watching him.“Even werewolves get sick, Daniel,” I said softly, my arms folded against my chest. “You should know that.”He scoffed. “Bullshit.”“No,” I continued, voice steady, “I have cancer. And guess what? My body didn’t heal it. Not even a little.”His face twitched, the confidence cracking for a moment.“Whatever is happening to you, it’s not just fa
Evelyn Daniel was pacing back and forth like some half-baked professor, his boots crunching on dried twigs and damp earth every time he turned on his heel. He had that smug little bounce in his step like he was thrilled to be the only one in the room with the answer to a riddle no one asked. I folded my arms and narrowed my eyes at him. “A celestial event? Alphas banding together? What the hell are you even talking about?” He wagged his finger, like I was some toddler asking why the sky was blue. “Patience, Evie. I’m getting there.” “I swear to the goddess,” I muttered under my breath. Daniel didn’t flinch. He kept pacing, waving his hands around as he started to spin one of the wildest stories I’d ever heard. “About 400 or 500 years ago, give or take,” he began, glancing up like he was trying to pluck the timeline out of thin air, “some alphas got real sick of it. The full moon, the eclipses, the blood moons, every celestial thing that flipped their instincts on and off like a
EvelynI stared at him hard, jaw locked, eyes burning. My wrists ached from where he’d grabbed me earlier, but my mind was sharper than ever.“You should let me go, Daniel,” I said, every word laced with warning. “You’re making enemies of not one, not two.but three damn Alphas. You won’t survive that, and neither will your pack. It’s suicide.”He blinked, then gave the most ridiculous grin, like I’d just complimented his new haircut.“Oh, sweetheart,” he said with that stupid, mocking drawl, “you think I’m scared of a bunch of overgrown mutts with daddy issues and inflated egos? Please.”“Christian Blackwood isn’t a mutt,” I snapped.“No, you’re right,” Daniel chuckled. “He’s more like a well-polished, purebred asshole. And Leo? That spiritual boy scout? I’ll rip through him like paper. And Tyler, heh, Tyler’s a ticking time bomb. He’ll probably implode before I even get the chance.”“You’re out of your mind,” I muttered.“I’ve always been out of my mind, Evie,” he said proudly, tappi