"Some are more promising than others. We'll start with the strongest possibilities—families that show signs of latent magickal ability or unexplained incidents."
"Signs like what?" I lean forward, studying the markings more carefully now.
"Unusual strength. Accelerated healing. Enhanced senses." Toran's deep voice carries across the table. "Or in some cases, entire family lines that seem to have strange luck with animals, particularly wolves."
"The tricky part," Bracken adds, "is that you four have to physically lay eyes on each female to see if she’s carrying your shard and we can’t go around asking about people directly or it could draw attention from either GUIDE or the Enclave."
What if GUIDE has her already? What if the Enclave found her first? My claws pierce my palms under the table as images flash through my mind—cells, chains, public execution. "What happens if they find her first?" The words come out distorted around my fangs, but I can’t pull them back. Not now. Not with the wolf so close to the surface, screaming mine-protect-find.
Maven's expression turns grim. "We deal with that if it happens. But that's why we're moving quickly, and why you need to learn to blend in. The longer we take, the more likely someone else figures out what we're doing. There’s already suspicion and the Inquisitors are crawling all over the Fae door located in the mountains of the southern hemisphere where Queen Melinda went through."
"When do we leave?" I ask.
"Tomorrow morning," Cormac answers. "We need today to get you properly outfitted and give you a crash course in the basics of functioning in this world. How to use your phones, credit cards, GPS. How to order food, check into hotels, rent vehicles, speak to people."
I glance down at my borrowed clothes, at feet that have carried me through centuries of battles, some on this world, but it’s been so long it doesn’t look at all the same. "I assume we won't be walking around barefoot?"
The question comes out lighter than I feel. My mind already races with everything we need to master before tomorrow—phones, documents, currency, vehicles, human customs. It reminds me of preparing for war.
One mistake, one slip, and we risk everything.
I hate all these unknowns, but good battle strategy requires you to learn the ground. Know your cover. Master your weapons—even if those weapons are nothing more deadly than the right clothes and correct words.
Maven actually laughs at that. "No, definitely not. We'll get you all proper clothing today. Things that help you blend in rather than stand out."
"Speaking of standing out," Boaz interrupts, "what about our... physical differences? The glamour hiding our physical features won't last forever."
"That's why we cycle back to the ranch, drop you for a night, and we head to Avalon every so often," Dugall explains. "If we have to use more power faster, we'll have to make more frequent trips back or we risk being compromised and connected to Earth's tainted magick."
Every return means lost time, lost ground in our search. But beneath Dugall's words lies another warning. Earth's magick isn't just different, it's dangerous. I've felt it since arriving, an oily wrongness that makes my wolf's fur stand on end.
Boaz nods and sips his cup of coffee.
"You also have siren rings." Maven holds up one of the silver bands. "These connect directly to our network of sirens. Take the ring off and drop it in any body of water and one of them will come to extract you immediately. Try not to use them in populated areas and travel using human means when able."
The silver gleams innocent enough, but my wolf and I both know what this really is—a last resort when everything goes wrong. When the ambrosia fails. When the rage takes over. When the beast breaks free and thirsts for blood.
My fingers close around the ring. Not an escape route, but a safeguard against something far worse than exposure. A way to protect innocents from the monster I become when the wolf takes over. I slide it onto my finger, praying that I never have to use it.
I find myself studying the map again, tracing the path through my first search area. My wolf paces with anticipation beneath my skin, and for once it's not hunting for blood—it's searching for connection. For her. My mate is out there somewhere, carrying a piece of my soul, maybe feeling need for me like I have need for her.
"We should get started then," Cormac says, rising from his chair. "We have a lot to cover before tomorrow, and not much time to do it in."
“One more thing,” Maven says, her tone making me pause. “We’ve had reports of increased GUIDE activity across the board since Queen Melinda left Earth. They are on high alert and looking for anything.
I meet my brother’s gazes one at a time. We all know we can’t afford mistakes. We can’t afford to lose control. We can’t afford to lead anyone straight to the very people we’re trying to protect.
The partially empty jars of ambrosia across the breakfast table is a painful reminder of how thin our margin for error really is. None of us are in a good place.
One day at a time.
One moment at a time.
But gods help anyone who gets between me and finding my mate.
Episode 2
CHAPTER 4
