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“Town sign!” I shouted but fuck all if he heard me. I wasn’t waiting to find out.
Half a mile down the road was the infamous welcome sign to Cedar Harbor. The giant colorful sign had the town’s symbol on it with a cheerful welcome message. It was single-handedly the most vandalized place in town—even I’d had some fun with the sign in my teenage years.
The back was untouched. A good thing? I could fucking hope.
That hope was dashed as I rounded the sign. My heart ratcheted in my chest, my anxiety spiking. Someone had vandalized the sign, and fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Blood dripped and dried across the front in a sloppy message that read: I’m coming for you.
Next to the message, a knife had been stabbed into the metal and through a driver’s license. I stepped closer and ran my fingers over the name.
“Charlotte,” I said as my brothers caught up with Cole, Maverick, and Isla. “It’s Charlotte.”
“Damn—”
“You need to get the hell out of here,” I continued over him as I gave Maverick, Cole, and Isla my attention. I knew what did this. We were all fucked. “Get your siblings and get the fuck out of town now. Go back to your houses and stick close. No one in, no one out. I don’t know if they’re safe.”
“What are you gettin’ on—”
“You need to call Cade,” I pointed to Isla, “and tell him to watch his back. No one is fucking safe.”
“What’s wrong?’ Declan asked.
“We need to get every fucking pack member we can back to the house.” I was on a fucking roll. My mind raced, and my blood ran cold. We were out of our fucking league.
“Slow down,” Maverick cut me off. “What the hell is going on, Killian? What is this?”
“A hunter,” I said. “A hunter is in Cedar Harbor.”
That shut everyone up as the gravity of the situation slammed into them. Hunters were a rare breed of creature that passed as humans with their own brand of magic and training. They were powerful, skilled, and highly dangerous.
And they had one fucking mission in life: to kill shifters.
Chapter 49
Killian
I need you to answer me, Genevieve. Please.
Istared at the stupidly obscene amount of messages I’d sent Genevieve—none of which she’d fucking answered. My heart galloped wildly in my chest. I wanted to be anywhere but the fucking pack house having this damn conversation. I understood why we needed to have the damn conversation, but I didn’t want to.
I wanted—needed—to see for myself that she was safe.
I’m not fucking around, Genevieve. You need to get the hell to the pack house.
I clicked my tongue, reading the unread messages all over again.
Your parents too, Genevieve. Get them there too.
That should tell you I’m fucking serious, princess. This isn’t a fucking game. I need to know you’re safe.
Damn it, Genevieve, I’m not fucking around. Answer your damn text messages.
There was a fucking hunter in Cedar Harbor and my wife chose now of all fucking times to shut down on me. Jesus fucking Christ. I was losing my goddamn mind.
“Right,” Isla piped up. “You say you know this is a hunter but how?”
I frowned. Hadn’t I said all of this already? Or was I just lost in my own head and not realizing it?
