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He was the only figure large enough to inhabit the brown wolf that came from nowhere to pin Naomi’s smaller form just beyond her reach.
Logically, Loren should have run. She was no match. One bite from those wiry jaws could rip out her throat. That logic couldn’t penetrate the rage consuming her, though. She shifted her weight to the balls of her feet, ready to fight anyway.
Then…
Nothing. It was as if an unseen force smothered her emotions, rage, and all. She went still, surprised as Naomi whimpered, pressing herself to the earth.
Once her breathing slowed enough to register the scent in her lungs, Loren easily placed the culprit behind the sudden shift in the mood.Pine. Heart pounding, she scanned the fields wildly for the sight of a scowling Bill or snarling black wolf. Apart from Micha, there was no one else around.
But he was here. She could sense him as surely as she knew her own name.
And she wasn’t the only one. Micha shifted back into human form, crouching—out of modesty for her, Loren suspected. He shot her an apologetic glance, but said nothing.
Not even a minute later, a patrol car turned the corner and parked halfway to the house. Bill emerged in a silent display of power, so effective Loren swallowed, rooted to the spot.
He didn’t yell. He didn’t storm across the fields in their direction. He merely stared for what felt like a solid minute. Then he silently reentered the patrol car and drove to the house.
“We should head back,” Micha said with a weary sigh. As he turned to Naomi, the girl breezed past him, still in wolf form. In a graceful display of speed, she loped back to the house.
By the time Loren traipsed up the back porch steps, a hint of emotion tugged at her conscience, stopping her in her tracks. It wasn’t the mixture of dread and guilt flooding her own mind, but… Something different. Not anger, but a darker and more brooding emotion.
Much like whatever lurked within Bill’s gaze a moment ago.
“Get changed,” he called from the kitchen the second they entered the foyer. “Then, we need to talk.”
All four of them? Or just him and her? He didn’t specify, and Micha herded Loren into the hallway before she could ask.
Already, the shower in the downstairs bathroom was running, and presumably, Naomi was inside it. Whether intentionally or by accident, the girl had left her duffle outside the bathroom door.
Loren hated the thought of wearing anything of hers, but she didn’t exactly have a lot of options. Reluctantly, she fished a sweater and jeans from Naomi’s bag and retreated upstairs to get dressed.
When she finally returned downstairs, at least one question became answered immediately.
This conversation was meant to happen only between her and Bill. He waited for her in the living room alone. Through the window, she could see Micha and Naomi in the field by the barn. Both were in human form, having a conversation of their own.
Loren couldn’t tear her gaze away as a pang of jealousy stabbed at her. Would Micha’s mindless chatter be preferable to this overwhelming tension? Maybe.
As if sensing her unease, McGoven sighed. As she turned to him, Loren noted that his expression was carefully blank.
“Sit,” he commanded, nodding toward the couch.
She took a step, only to hesitate. It felt wrong to relax when he seemed so tense. Especially when his mood was very much her fault. Fighting with Naomi was such a stupid, childish diversion in the grand scheme. She deserved to face her scolding without cowering on the couch.
Oddly enough, Bill didn’t question the disobedience.
Instead, he sighed and cut to the chase. “I found some new information regarding your mother. What do you know about a place called Hillmarrow?”
She blinked, shocked by his blunt tone. Taking his advice, after all, she sat down and tried to form a coherent response. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of that—”
Wait.Something itched at the back of her mind. A memory? It wasn’t cohesive. Just a fragment.
Bill latched onto her discomfort. “What’s wrong?”
“I think…” All at once, the truth dawned on her. Shehadheard of it. Once before, maybe years ago. She couldn’t remember the context or what it meant. Only who said it. A voice like rich honey that made her heart ache to recall.
“I think my mother mentioned it one time,” she croaked. “But I can’t remember. I don’t even… What is it?”
“Interesting.” Bill leaned against the window and raked his hands through his hair. “It’s the name of a territory out west,” he explained. “Home to a clan of lycans known as the Scolera. I don’t know much about them, but I have reason to believe your mother might have been from there.”
