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I mash the gas, taking the turns of the forest road far too fast as we race toward Riverton in the dead of night, the only illumination emanating from the Jeep’s headlights.
Avery, wisely, doesn’t press me further on the issue of Sloane fucking Masters- which is good, considering we’re en route to her family’s home, which is filled with nothing but bad memories for me now. Though Sloane herself hasn’t lived there for years. Her parents are Brock and Astrid Masters, the alpha and luna of the Riverton pack. Brock is in the process of transitioning power over to his eldest son Tristan, but he isn’t set to be officially sworn in as Alpha until summer.
Tristan Masters is a good friend of mine. He’s one of the leaders of the security squad, the six-pack’s squadron of trained fighters that patrols and protects its borders. My dad was the one who started the security squad back in the day, and my sister and I took over its leadership shortly after we graduated from high school. It’s a huge responsibility, so there are seven of us that lead the squad together currently, all sons and daughters of the original six-pack alphas.
We make it to Riverton in record time, and aside from Alpha Chase, who has a shorter drive than us from the neighboring territory of Norbury, we’re the first to arrive. Brock is agitated, pacing, as his mate Astrid quietly looks on, worry etched in her features.
Tristan sees Avery and me come in and makes a beeline for us, his eyes rimmed with exhaustion. Council meetings used to only be for alphas and their betas, but things have changed over time. Now, our betas typically stay behind to hold down the pack, and some of the lunas attend with their mates. When these meetings involve issues of security, as they so often do, squad leaders have to show up, too- which is the reason Tris was pulled out of bed, and why Archer and Ares walk in with their dad, Alpha Reid, a few minutes later.
“The fuck happened?” Ares asks with a scowl, watching after his father as he goes to interrupt Brock’s pacing.
Ares Raines is our newest squad leader, and the youngest of us. He inherited his mom’s flame red hair and her wild streak, and unlike his calmer, more reserved older brother Archer- also a squad leader and currently training to take over as the Stillwater pack’s alpha- Ares completely lacks a filter, blurting out whatever comes to his mind.
“Hunters took out a couple of the Denver pack’s wolves,” Tristan explains, scrubbing a hand over his face. “That’s all I really know so far, my dad’s waiting until everyone gets here to go into specifics.”
“Are they the same ones as before?” Avery asks apprehensively.
Tris shrugs. “Don’t know. I think Denver’s operating under that assumption until proven otherwise.”
We stand together in strained silence, grim looks on all our faces. We were young the last time there was an incident with hunters over in Denver. Though it has been a decade since that happened, it completely changed the way we live.
The six-pack used to own and operate businesses on the fringes of the territory to generate revenue, all of which were shut down. The massive ski resort now sits abandoned; the brewery only operational behind closed doors, to ship our products elsewhere. What was once a bustling little tourist area is now a ghost town, our packs’ territory essentially cut off from the human population.
We have constant patrols and heightened security measures. We only shift within certain perimeters that are set at a healthy distance from the borders of our land, and never after dark unless it’s a full moon. The idea was that if we stay hidden, we stay alive; and so far, it’s worked. The hunters have located other packs across the country, but never ours.
At least notyet.
If the same hunters have indeed returned to Denver, they’re far too close for comfort.
The roar of a motorcycle outside signals the arrival of Theo and Brooke Jacobsen; the alpha and luna of the Summervale pack. They also happen to be my aunt and uncle- Brooke is my mom’s identical twin sister. They enter the packhouse and shrug off their leather jackets, all of us now just waiting on Iver and Lo Anderson.
My buddy Iver just became Alpha last year, taking over the Westfield pack from his old man, Jax. He’s also a squad leader, along with his sister, Lo, who heads up the security squad’s IT unit. When the two of them walk through the door, we all breathe a collective sigh of relief, turning our attention to Brock so he can finally clue us in on what the hell is going on.
“The Denver pack is working to track the hunters as we speak,” he says once we’ve all taken seats on the couches, looking to him expectantly. “We don’t know yet if they’re the same ones as before, but they definitely knew what they were hunting. The bullets they used were silver, coated in wolfsbane.”
Avery curses under her breath beside me, her leg bouncing up and down in nervous agitation. I clamp a hand down over her knee in a silent signal for her to knock it off, sliding her a hard look that says to calm the fuck down.
“If this gets out, it’ll cause a panic,” Chase murmurs, swiping a hand over his chin.
“Maybe that’s what we need for people to understand the gravity of the situation and respect the rules,” Brock grumbles, and I don’t miss the look he shoots in my direction.
The guy isn’t my biggest fan. I guess that’s fair, considering whenever his kids got into trouble in their teens, I was usually the mastermind behind whatever scheme we were embroiled in.
He still blames me for the accident.
I still blame him for his part in ripping Sloane from my life.
I return Brock’s glare, refusing to back down or acknowledge his jab, and Lo speaks up to diffuse the tension.
“I’ll round up IT in the morning to make sure our tech’s where we need it to be,” she says thoughtfully, combing her fingers through her long blonde hair. “A few of the border cameras are old and need replacing, and we may want to consider testing the alarms and running drills to refamiliarize everyone with the protocols for a breach.”
“I can help with that,” Tristan offers, and she nods gratefully.
“We may want to consider tightening the curfew,” Reid suggests.
Theo scoffs. “Didn’t do Denver much good. I thought we said we weren’t going to go back to the sign-ups and allotments and all that bullshit?”
“That was before the hunters came back,” Reid counters, frowning. “Denver’s only a few hours away. They could be on their way here right now, for all we know. The less wolves we have roaming the territory, the less chance we have of being found.”
