Chapter 8 Levi
Levi
Cooper finally gave the go-ahead for the rescue operation.
“Take a small team. Follow the lead. Don’t go charging in blind,” had been Cooper’s parting words when I spoke to him in his office.
That last part echoed in my head. Blind. That was exactly what this felt like. I exited the main pack house and headed across the yard toward the garage where the trucks were parked.
The late morning air carried the smell of pine and sun-warmed earth. A couple of pack members were sparring in the field nearby, the thud of bodies hitting the mat carrying across the open space. Normal life.
Meanwhile, we were chasing shadows. Gino was already leaning against his truck when I reached the gravel lot. He straightened when he saw me coming.
“How did it go?” he asked.
“Cooper approved the run,” I said. “We’re checking the location Mason gave us.”
Gino’s eyebrows lifted slightly, but he didn’t question it. That was one thing I appreciated about him. When things got serious, he locked in.
“I’ll grab Marco and Tyler,” he said, referring to two other trackers on our team.
“Good,” I said.
Within minutes, the three of them were gathered by the trucks. The tracker unit wasn’t large, but we had the best noses and instincts in the pack.
Which meant if something was wrong out there, they’d feel it before I did. Right now, when it came to Mason, my instincts were tangled up in too many emotions to trust completely.
That was why I was relying on my other team members. Their heads were clear, and they’d catch anything I might miss. Mason appeared a moment later.
He was wearing jeans and a dark shirt under a lightweight jacket. The clean lines of the clothes made his lean build stand out, and the wind tugged lightly at his dark hair as he walked toward us. For a split second, my wolf stirred with quiet approval.
I shoved the reaction down before it could turn into anything else.
“Everyone ready?” I asked.
A round of nods answered me.
“Gino,” I said, tossing him the keys to the second truck. “You take Marco and Tyler. Stay behind us.”
“You got it.”
Mason slid into the passenger seat of my truck while the others piled into Gino’s. Gravel crunched under the tires as both engines rumbled to life. I pulled out first.
The road leading away from packlands curved through thick forest before connecting to the highway.
Inside the truck, silence settled almost immediately. I kept both hands on the wheel, eyes on the road, but my mind wasn’t anywhere near the asphalt.
It had been earlier that morning when Nico called. The memory pushed its way forward whether I wanted it to or not.
“Everything okay?” I asked when I answered.
“Yeah, I guess,” Nico said, sounding hesitant. “It’s probably nothing.”
That alone had put me on alert.
“What is it?”
“I’m not sure if I should mention it,” he said. “I caught Mason near the basement stairs the other day.”
“Near the basement?”
“It looked like he was trying to get down there,” Nico explained. “He said he got turned around and was looking for the laundry. Could’ve been the truth. The house is confusing if you’re new.”
My jaw had tightened.
The basement wasn’t exactly off-limits, but it wasn’t somewhere a guest usually wandered either. It housed Tony and Nico’s computer systems, the pack’s archives, and records.
“Did he get inside?” I asked.
“No,” Nico said. “I stopped him before that. He seemed embarrassed about it.”
A beat of silence passed.
“Like I said,” Nico added, “might’ve been nothing. Just thought you’d want to know.”
For a second, anger had flared hot in my chest. Not at Mason, but at Nico, which made zero sense.
My first instinct had been to defend Mason. To say Nico must’ve misunderstood and to brush the whole thing off like it was ridiculous.
But the words never left my mouth. Instead, I forced the reaction down.
“Thanks for telling me,” I said, ending the call.
Now, hours later, the conversation still sat heavy in my chest. Because I didn’t know what to do with it.
It painted Mason in a bad light. There was no way around that, but every instinct I had still rejected the idea that he was someone who’d been playing us all along
“Is something on your mind?” Mason’s voice pulled me back to the present.
I glanced at him briefly before returning my focus to the road. He was watching me carefully. I shook my head once.
“Just a few things running around up here,” I said.
He studied me another moment before looking forward again.
“You must be really worried about the missing shifters, huh?” Mason asked.
I couldn’t ignore the regret and guilt in his voice. Did Mason have something to feel guilty about? Or was I just hearing things because of what Nico told me?
“Sometimes Cooper sends our team out to track missing people,” I said after a moment. “Tourists. Hikers who wandered off the trail. Locals who got lost in the woods.”
I shifted gears as the truck picked up speed, merging onto Highway 12.
“Most of the time it’s nothing serious. Someone twists an ankle or loses their bearings.”
I glanced at him again.
“This case is different,” I added.
Mason’s shoulders stiffened.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.
“For what?” I asked.
“For bringing trouble to your pack.” His words landed heavier than he probably intended.
“You didn’t create this,” I said. “Someone else did.”
I just hoped we were driving toward them. The highway stretched ahead in a long ribbon of pavement, cutting through the forest.
After another ten minutes, I slowed the truck and signaled before turning onto a smaller side road. Then another. The paved asphalt gave way to cracked concrete, then finally gravel.
There it was: the old service road.
The turnoff sat half hidden behind overgrown brush, marked by a rusted gate that leaned crooked on its hinges, exactly like Mason’s source said. So far, so good.
I drove around the gate where the fence had been pushed aside.
Gravel crunched under the tires as we rolled forward, and the forest closed in almost immediately.
Tall trees pressed close to the narrow road, their branches knitting together overhead so the sunlight barely reached the ground.
The air felt cooler here, heavier somehow.
I checked the rearview mirror. Gino’s truck followed about twenty yards behind us. Just our two vehicles. No others. The place felt abandoned. I slowed slightly, scanning the trees on both sides of the road.
Mason shifted beside me.
“You think we’re close?” Mason asked.
“Maybe.”
Another thought had started forming in the back of my mind, and it was one I didn’t like. Mason could be leading us straight into a trap.
The realization slid through me like a shard of ice. I kept my face neutral as the truck rolled forward. My phone sat in the center console.
It would be easy enough to grab it and send a quick message to Gino. Something simple. Stay alert, or possible setup. My thumb brushed the edge of the console, but then I stopped.
The truth was, I didn’t want to believe that. Every instinct in me still wanted to trust Mason.
I really wanted to believe he wasn’t capable of something like that, even after Nico’s call or hearing the strange guilt in his voice just now.
Beside me, Mason stared out the windshield, jaw tight as he watched the road ahead. He looked nervous, but not calculating. Not like someone guiding enemies into an ambush.
He was just scared, I told myself. Maybe I was overthinking this.
The road curved gently to the left as the forest thickened around us. And somewhere deep in my chest, my wolf stirred uneasily.
* * *
The silence settled over the clearing the moment the engines cut off. It wasn’t the peaceful quiet of the forest I knew. This one felt tense, stretched tight like a wire ready to snap.
I stepped out of the truck and scanned the area automatically. The old service road ended in a patch of cracked dirt and weeds that had swallowed what used to be a small farmstead.
A sagging fence leaned toward the trees like it had simply given up over the years. Beyond it sat a weather-beaten farmhouse and a couple of collapsing sheds.
Gino’s truck rolled to a stop behind us. The other trackers climbed out. Mason opened his door too.
“Stay in the truck,” I said immediately.
He froze halfway out. “What?”
“We don’t know what we’re walking into yet.” I kept my voice calm but firm. “Let us check it out first.”
His brows drew together.
“I can help,” he said.
“You can help by staying safe.”
That stubborn look settled on his face again. I was starting to recognize it.
“I can’t just sit here, Levi,” Mason said quietly. “If someone’s out there, another pair of eyes could make the difference.”
Behind me, I felt Gino watching the exchange with interest. The other trackers pretended not to listen. I rubbed the back of my neck, frustration stirring.
“You don’t know what you’re walking into,” I said.
“And you do?” Mason shot back.
His voice wasn’t angry, only determined.
Something about that flickered in my chest. He wasn’t trying to prove himself, I realized; he genuinely wanted to help.
If Mason had lured us out here, the last thing he’d do was argue to walk straight into danger with us. That realization loosened something tight inside my ribs.
I studied him for another moment before sighing.
“Fine,” I muttered. “But you stay close to me.”
“Deal,” Mason said.
Gino clapped his hands once. “Alright, let’s sweep the property.”
The Marco and Tyler moved with practiced efficiency and shifted almost immediately.
Clothes dropped to the ground as bones cracked and reshaped. Fur burst through skin in a blur of motion until two large wolves stood where men had been moments before.
Mason blinked.
“Tracking’s easier this way,” I said.
The wolves lowered their noses to the ground and trotted ahead, weaving through the tall grass toward the buildings. We followed behind them.