Page 26 of Chaos At Second Sight

I sniffed the remains. There were no other scents on it besides rot and Drude’s. “We’ll compensate you if we can prove Lucien killed them.”

“You calling me a liar?” Drude cursed. “I have bones piled up! I bet your beast’s using the rest to pick its fangs!”

Dad pinched his nose. “Easy, Drude. We know you’re honest.”

“My production’s ruined! What should I do, Alpha?”

I slapped my arm, killing a fly.

“We’ll pay for every animal. Forgive my son, we all must acclimate to the…new situation.”

Drude was the fourth worker to claim his rights after losing his animals to a colossal appetite.

“Children are afraid and the elders won’t leave the temple or attend to their duties!”

I kicked a pebble toward the tip of a pine tree. I was torn—my fists longed to crash into Lucien’s muzzle for being a foolish beast and into the shriveled faces of those superstitious old folks. Both would satisfy me.

Once Drude left, I glanced toward the lake. There lay the source of every headache I’d had this week, unaware of the issues occurring because of his stomach. One elbow was resting on the grass, his clawed fist on his…cheek, if you could call it that, a bone hanging casually from his jaw. A bone, not a blade of grass. He was watching Yvaine, who was sitting cross-legged, reading from one of her tomes.

Since arriving, Lucien had acknowledged Dad as Alpha, sworn not to harm anyone—unless they threatened his mate—and flatly refused to shift back.

“Well,” I muttered, “another farmer. At this rate, we’ll bankrupt the pack feeding our niece’s boyfriend.”

Dad watched them too. I knew he was secretly pleased that his granddaughter had a fierce mate, but…

“How could Richard ever approve of this?” he grunted. “He was never an appropriate mate or father. I warned Isabella!” Once again, all the problems were attributed to Isabella’s mate, Yvaine’s father. Dad never liked him, mostly because Richard took Isabella away.

“I still don’t understand why this Logan hasn’t shifted back,” Dad continued.

“I don’t think Lucien trusts him to protect Yvaine.”

“Until she bears his mark.”

“Gealaich save us from that mark!” I muttered. “He’ll bite our nighean òg in half.”

“As much as I love my rionnag, I hope they leave soon.”

“They won’t.” Mom joined us to spy on them. “Not until I meet the man inside the monster.”

“I told you arguing with the old witch Elma would bring us putrid luck, Riona,” Dad said.

“Oh, shut up. Since when does being crazy mean being a witch?”

“Well, if so, then you⁠—”

“Don’t finish that sentence if you don’t want to sleep in the barn tonight!”

Lucien was a seven-foot behemoth that growled at anyone who, for his liking, got too close to Yvaine. Always tense, always ready to pounce, a bizarre mix of hellhound and puppy. Though Yvaine had an extraordinary effect on him—one caress or a look, and he would quiet down. He followed her everywhere, the bathroom included, until she physically shoved him back out. Apparently, privacy wasn’t part of lycan culture.

Not that it really bothered her. Yvaine loved having that three-hundred-pound presence by her side.

“How many times have we told him not to eat the cattle?” I asked.

Mom sighed. “Too many.”

Lucien’s defense had been simple: Lucien hungry. Worse, after discovering cows produced milk, he’d decided they were superior food to sheep. Meat and milk in one.

Dad folded his arms. “I’ve been patient.” His eyes never left the lycan. “If he doesn’t shift back by tomorrow, he goes into the dungeons. Shackled.”