Chapter 7
CHAPTER 7
ISABELLA
T he next day I’m sitting on the worn wooden steps of the porch, a steaming cup of coffee in my hands. The woods feel close, alive, almost too present. I can imagine Arthur sitting here in this same spot scribbling in his notebooks, muttering about the mysteries of the forest and whatever is out there. Now it’s just me, trying to make sense of the chaos he left behind.
The sharp crunch of boots on gravel pulls me from my thoughts, and I glance up to see Lucas strolling toward me, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket. His easy, relaxed demeanor is such a contrast to Ryder’s brooding intensity that it catches me off guard.
“Hey,” he says, stopping a few feet away. “Mind if I join you?”
I shrug, gesturing to the empty step beside me. “Not at all. You’re welcome on my porch anytime.”
He sits, stretching his legs out in front of him, his movements casual but calculated. “Quiet out here,” he says after a moment, his gaze flicking to the woods.
“For now,” I reply, my tone sharper than I intend.
Lucas raises an eyebrow, his smile faint but genuine. “Trouble in paradise?”
“Something like that,” I mutter, taking a sip of my coffee.
There’s a beat of silence, and then he says, “You look like you’re either about to explode or implode. Which one is it going to be?”
I snort, but the sound holds no humor. “That obvious, huh?”
“Only if you’re paying attention,” he says lightly. “And I tend to pay attention.”
I glance at him, his profile sharp against the fading light. There’s a warmth to Lucas that puts me at ease, a stark contrast to Ryder’s perpetual icy demeanor. I debate staying silent, but the words bubble up before I can stop them.
“I’ve been thinking about my grandmother,” I say quietly, staring into my coffee.
Lucas doesn’t interrupt, just shifts slightly, his focus settling fully on me.
“I didn’t know much about my grandparents growing up,” I continue, my voice tight. “But the more I learn, the more I realize I didn’t know anything. Did you know my grandmother was a member of the Nightshade Pack?”
“Yes. Ryder is alpha. I’m his beta.”
“So that means he’s in charge and you’re?”
“His second-in-command.”
I nod. It seems like Lucas is going to be straight with me. I just need to figure out what questions to ask. “Did they really make her choose between my grandfather and your people?”
“Regretfully true,” Lucas admits.
“Why?”
“Lots of reasons—tradition, a belief that bonding with a human would taint the bloodline, fear that your grandfather would betray us…”
“Did he know?” I ask.
“I don’t know for sure, but my guess is he did. But unless she initiated the change…”
“The change?”
He nods. “Yes, when a shifter takes someone to mate, it is customary for them to inflict a claiming bite, which initiates a change in the non-shifter’s DNA, causing them to become a shifter as well. The thing is that it is not to be done without the non-shifter’s consent. I don’t know why she didn’t bite him as it’s said they loved each other more than anything.”
“Why wouldn’t she do it then?”
“Not sure. Often we men—shifter and human alike—don’t like the idea that we are being claimed. The antiquated tradition in the Nightshade Pack is that men do the claiming and women are claimed. Sometimes those not born as shifters are often looked down on. Her family and the pack turned their backs on her and never spoke of her again.”
“Then maybe she was better off without them,” I say angrily.
“Maybe.” Lucas exhales softly, his gaze dropping to the ground. “It wasn’t fair,” he says after a moment. “What happened to your grandmother. It wasn’t right.”
“Then why did it happen?” I demand, my voice rising despite myself. “Why would the pack just turn their backs on my grandmother because of some outdated rule? Sounds pretty self-serving and bigoted to me.”
Lucas flinches, but he doesn’t bristle like I expect. Instead, he looks at me, his expression soft but serious. “It happened a long time ago. Had Ryder been alpha, he would never have allowed it. He’d have told the Elders to go fuck themselves. Kind of like he did when they wanted him to run you off.”
His honesty catches me off guard, deflating some of the anger simmering in my chest. “He didn’t need their orders to do that. He seems perfectly happy trying to intimidate me all on his own.”
“The Elders don’t order Ryder. They may try, but he shuts that shit down pretty fast. They are there only to advise. You don’t understand him—not that he’s made it easy for you. He wants you safe. There’s a lot going on and he figured you were safer back in Seattle.”
“But why do they hate me? I’m no threat to them.”
“They’re old and they’re scared,” Lucas continues, his voice low. “All they have is their traditions. Some of the pack and most of the Elders see your grandmother’s choice as a threat to everything they thought they were protecting. They were wrong, but they’re too stubborn to admit it. Ryder’s trying to keep the peace—he doesn’t have to do that. He could disband the council, but he doesn’t want them to feel disrespected and that they have nothing to offer.”
“Are they a threat to him?”
Lucas chuckles. “Not in any way, shape or form. If they try to oust him, they’d have to have someone challenge him. And no one within the pack would do that. If they tried to bring in an outsider, they’d lose. All of our warriors are loyal to Ryder. Besides we’ve got a problem that requires strength, courage, and leadership, and Ryder’s got that in spades.”
“What problem?”
“The mutants…”
“Mutants? There are mutants? Who and what are they?”
“We call them the Crimson Claw because of the bloody claw markings they make on trees, boulders and their victims. We don’t know as much about them as we should. We’re not even sure we fully understand what they are or who is controlling them. Ryder figured out shortly before Arthur died that Arthur was onto something.”
“Ryder knew Arthur?”
Lucas nods. “He asked him for his help…”
“With the mutants?”
“Actually no,” says Lucas, shaking his head. “We’ve also got a problem with declining birthrates—a lot of the wolf packs in the region do. Ryder was hoping Arthur might be able to help, but then Arthur stumbled onto information about the Crimson Claw. Both Ryder and I believe that’s what got him killed.”
“But then why isn’t anyone investigating?”
“Who? Barnes? Never going to happen. But here’s the thing… it’s obvious Arthur didn’t trust many people, and you have to ask why. Did he know something about those in town? About the other shifters? Or even the other wolf packs?”
“There’s more than one?”
“Absolutely. The continent is divided up into regions. Within each region numerous packs and clans have their own territories; Shadow Hollow acts as a kind of central hub for the Rainshadow Region.”
I look away, blinking back the sting of tears in my eyes. “And what about now? Am I just another threat to the Elders? Another mistake they wish didn’t exist?”
“Probably, but they’re convinced letting Ryder become alpha was the biggest mistake in the last hundred years.”
“Was he elected?”
“Nope and they didn’t ‘let’ him. Ryder challenged the bastard they’d put in place and won.”
“So, could that guy be out there? Maybe he’s controlling the Crimson Claw…”
Lucas shakes his head and laughs somewhat bitterly. “Everett wasn’t that bright. And generally, fights for the role of alpha of the pack end with one of the opponents dead as was the case when Ryder challenged Everett. You’re not a mistake, Bella. And neither Ryder nor I believe you’re a threat.”
His words hang in the air, heavy with sincerity, and I feel a crack in the wall I’ve been building around myself.
“You’re different,” he says, his voice softening. “You’re neither wolf-shifter nor human. In many ways you’re both. You’re different, not what is expected, and that scares people because it forces them to look at things differently. But it also makes you… important.”
“Important,” I repeat bitterly, shaking my head. “Yeah, I feel really important. Like a walking complication.”
Lucas smiles faintly. “Complications have a way of changing things. Usually for the better.”
I glance at him, caught off guard by the warmth in his eyes. There’s no judgment there, no agenda—just understanding.
For the first time since I came to Shadow Hollow, I feel like someone sees me. Really sees me.
“Thanks,” I say quietly, the word feeling too small but sincere.
“Anytime,” he replies, leaning back on his elbows. “Someone’s gotta keep you grounded with Ryder lurking and stomping around all the time. I have to say, it’s kind of refreshing.”
“Refreshing? How?”
“Usually he’s so in control—always thinking ahead, always strategizing—locked in a set orbit. But you seemed to have changed his trajectory, and I, for one, couldn’t be happier about it.”
I laugh despite myself, the tightness in my chest easing just a little. “You like being the annoying little brother.”
“I do, and I’m so good at it.”
I laugh again, but the moment is fleeting. The woods seem to shift, the air growing heavier as the shadows deepen. That familiar prickling sensation crawls along my spine—the feeling of being watched.
Lucas notices my change in posture, his easy demeanor fading as his gaze sharpens. “What is it?”
“I don’t know,” I admit, scanning the tree line. “But something’s out there.”
He straightens, his casual attitude replaced by the quiet alertness of a predator. He sighs, muttering something under his breath, but he doesn’t say anything more. Together, we stare into the woods, the silence stretching taut between us. Whatever’s out there, it’s watching. Waiting.
RYDER
I watch from the tree line as Lucas leans casually against the porch railing of the clinic, talking to Bella. At first, her arms are crossed, her expression guarded, but gradually she relaxes and watches Lucas with a curiosity and interest that makes my wolf bristle. Lucas is good at this—too good. He’s saying something that makes her laugh, the sound soft and unexpected, and I have to fight the urge to step out of the shadows and tear my brother’s throat out.
She doesn’t know she’s my mate, but Lucas damn well does
Still, I can’t tear my gaze away as she talks, her movements animated, her dark hair catching the fading sunlight. There’s a fire in her, a determination that’s as frustrating as it is magnetic. She’s so human, so fragile, and yet she’s standing in the middle of a world she doesn’t even know exists, defying it without realizing it.
She disappears inside the clinic. Lucas lingers on the porch, glancing in my direction. He knows I’m here. Of course he does. His grin is faint, amused, as if to say See? Not so hard.
I growl low in my chest but stay put. Lucas steps inside, leaving the porch empty, and the woods seem to close in around me.
Later that night, I patrol the edges of the clinic property, my steps silent against the soft earth. I know I should leave the protection of the place to my warriors as well as patrolling our borders. But I can’t bring myself to do it. Bella is my mate and mine to protect. Possibly the only one I would trust with her safety is Lucas, and I can’t bring myself to do that. I was raised to believe that the pack is the alpha’s highest priority. I now know it isn’t true. Nothing comes before protecting my mate.
The moonlight filters through the trees, casting everything in silver and shadow. The lights in the clinic are still on, and I catch a glimpse of Bella through the window, bent over her desk and scribbling in a notebook.
She moves to the window, gazing out at the dark woods, and I freeze, my breath catching. There’s a minute I wonder if she sees me, but her gaze sweeps past, distant and searching.
Her hand comes up to touch the glass, her expression flickering with something I can’t quite place. Longing? Frustration? Whatever it is, it hits me like a punch to the gut. She turns away, and the light goes off, leaving the clinic in darkness. I linger a moment longer, the woods pressing in around me, my wolf restless and agitated.
I should leave. I should let Lucas handle this. But as I step back into the shadows, the pull to be close to her doesn’t weaken or fade.
Whatever Bella’s looking for, whatever answers she’s chasing, she’s not going to stop. And as much as I want to protect the pack from her, there’s a part of me that’s just as desperate to protect her from everything else, including me.