CHAPTER TWO || HUNTER #3
A shield of some sort. I’d thrown up a shield. A magical one. The same kind I’d seen Daniel use dozens of times.
But wolves didn’t have magical shields. We had our enhanced senses, our teeth and claws, supernatural reflexes, and the ability to heal fast. We could see magic, but we couldn’t do magic.
Shields were spells. Warlock territory. Daniel’s territory.
It became suddenly crystal clear to me that this was all his fault.
Because of course it was.
Everything was Daniel’s fault. The split, the bite, the mate dreams, and now this—his magic spreading through me like a poison.
The anger came back, hot and immediate.
Good. I preferred the anger. It was simple and clean.
I got up and ran back to the cabin, letting my fury carry me the whole way there.
* * *
Lee looked up from the phone in his hand when I burst through the door. His expression shifted from calm to alert in half a second when he took in the look on my face. “What happened?”
“I did magic,” I said.
Lee’s eyes widened. “What do you mean you ‘did magic’?”
“I mean I threw up a shield. In the forest. It was some kind of golden barrier, and it just—” I gestured with both hands, not liking the disbelieving way Lee stared at me.
“It just appeared out of nowhere. I didn’t even do anything.
A deer spooked me and it happened.” Then I tacked on, “It’s Daniel’s fault. ”
Lee was quiet for a moment, processing. He had that look he got when he was turning something over in his mind, examining it from every angle before committing to a response.
It made me want to scream.
“A deer,” he said, at last.
I deflated immediately. “That’s what you’re focusing on?”
“I’m focusing on the fact that your fight-or-flight response just manifested as a magical shield against a herbivore.” The corner of his mouth twitched.
Oh, fuck no.
The bastard was amused.
“This isn’t funny.”
“It’s a little funny.”
“It’s Daniel’s fault,” I repeated. “His initiation did something to the pack bonds. His magic is—I don’t know—leaking into us. Into me. We need to confront him.”
“No, we need to bring it up calmly,” Lee corrected. “At the pack breakfast.” He eyed me skeptically. “After you’ve showered.”
“Why? Why can’t we just—”
“Because if you confront Daniel while you’re angry, you’ll say something you regret. You know that as well as I do. And besides, what are you planning on leading with?”
That stopped me cold. Because I had no idea. But I still wanted to argue, even though Lee was right. He was almost always right, which was one of the most infuriating things about him.
“Fine,” I said through gritted teeth. “A shower. Then at breakfast. But I’m not going to be happy about it.”
“You’re not happy about anything when it comes to Daniel.”
“And whose fault is that?”
Lee gave me a long, steady look.
It was like he could see straight through my anger to the terrified, confused person underneath all the fury. He was the stronger one. The more steadfast one. The one who could see things clearly.
I’d adjusted to the physicality of being a werewolf easier than he had, but he’d run laps around me when it came to adjusting to the stark reality of it.
I looked away first.
“Hunter,” he said, quieter now.
“What?”
“If what you’re saying is true—”
“It is.”
“Right. Then if Daniel’s magic is manifesting in you, it might be manifesting in the rest of the pack, too.”
I hadn’t thought of that.
“Well, shit.”
“Yeah. This might be bigger than us.” Lee returned his gaze to the phone in his hand, but I could tell he wasn’t really paying any attention to it. “Wait for breakfast. We’ll figure it out then. And we’ll warn everyone else, too.”
I dropped onto my bed and stared at the ceiling. My hands were still trembling. I pressed them flat against the mattress and willed them to stop.
Magic. I’d done magic.
It should have been impossible. Wolves were wolves, and warlocks were warlocks, and the two didn’t overlap. Except, apparently, when a warlock wormed his way into a wolf pack, it blew all the rules wide open.
And I’d accepted him with open arms, deciding—at Lee’s encouragement—to put my anger aside for one day, so that the pack would be stronger.
And so that I could see Daniel be happy, even if that was something I’d never admit to Lee. Because I still wanted that, even under everything else. I couldn’t let myself trust him and I sure as shit wouldn’t allow myself to love him again, but I didn’t actually hate him. Not really.
But maybe that had been a mistake.
Daniel Henbane had lied to us for twelve years, destroyed the person we used to be, and now here he was, rewriting the fundamental nature of the pack itself.
And the most infuriating thing—the thing I could barely stand to think about—was that when I’d thrown up that shield, when the golden light had flared around me in the forest, the first instinctive emotion I’d felt hadn’t been fear or anger, the way it ought to have been.
It had been awe. If it was Daniel’s magic I’d somehow channeled, it’d been beautiful.
With a groan, I pressed my face into the pillow. That thought could go straight to hell, back to where it belonged.