Chapter 8 Levi #2
The farmstead smelled wrong, like old wood, rot, and rusted metal. Beneath it all, there was a faint but unmistakable smell of fear. My wolf stirred uneasily.
The farmhouse loomed closer with every step. Its windows were broken, the door hanging crooked on one hinge.
The wind pushed it back and forth with a soft creak that made the whole place feel haunted. Mason walked beside me, shoulders tight.
“You okay?” I asked quietly.
“Yeah,” he whispered.
I slowed slightly, making sure he stayed within arm’s reach. The wolves split off toward the barn while Gino headed for the sheds. I pushed open the farmhouse door.
Dust exploded into the air as it scraped across the warped floorboards. Inside looked like time had simply stopped.
I spotted an overturned table, broken cabinets, and old dishes scattered across the floor.
The place looked like it had been abandoned for years. We searched every room but found nothing. When we stepped back outside, the other trackers had returned empty too.
A knot of tension twisted in my chest. Had Mason’s source been wrong? Or worse, had we been led here for nothing?
“Levi!” Gino’s urgent voice cracked across the clearing.
He was standing near the far side of the farmhouse. I took off running, and Mason was right behind me. My heart pounded harder with every step.
Part of me still braced for something awful. An ambush, a trap, or perhaps a dozen hunters stepping out of the woods.
When we reached Gino, none of that happened. Instead, he was crouched beside something against the side of the house: a large, rusty metal cage, the kind meant for animals.
My stomach twisted as I stepped closer.
Inside was a deer shifter, curled tight against the back corner. His red fur was dull and dirty, sides rising and falling in shallow breaths. He was unconscious.
For a moment, nobody spoke. Then Mason sucked in a quiet breath beside me.
“Oh my god…”
Gino reached forward and carefully unlatched the door. The metal creaked loudly in the still air.
“Easy,” he muttered.
The shifter didn’t move. One of the wolves padded closer, sniffing gently.
“He’s alive,” Gino said after a moment. “Barely.”
Relief flooded through me so hard my knees almost went weak. We’d found one.
I knelt down carefully. Up close, I could see marks on the deer’s fur where restraints had rubbed raw. His ribs showed faintly beneath his coat.
Anger burned hot in my chest. Someone had done this and had kept him locked in here like an animal.
Behind me, Mason looked pale.
“I didn’t think…” he whispered.
I glanced back at him. His eyes were fixed on the cage, horror plain across his face.
Gino gently lifted the deer from the crate. The body hung limp in his arms.
“We need to move,” he said. “Clinic.”
“Yeah,” I agreed immediately.
The wolves shifted back quickly, pulling on their clothes while Gino carried the shifter toward the trucks. Mason followed beside him, hovering anxiously.
“Will he be okay?” he asked.
Gino gave a grim shrug.
“Hard to say. But we found him in time,” Gino answered.
We loaded back into the vehicles quickly.
Gino took the shifter in his truck with the other trackers. I watched them pull away first. Then Mason and I climbed into my truck.
The adrenaline still buzzed through my veins as I started the engine. For a moment, neither of us spoke. Then Mason let out a long breath.
“I can’t believe he was just there,” Mason muttered.
“Me neither.”
The truck rolled slowly down the dirt road. Dust curled behind us. After a few minutes, Mason looked over.
“You found him,” he said quietly.
“We found him,” I corrected.
He shook his head. “You trusted me enough to come out here.”
I glanced at him briefly.
“Guess that paid off,” I said.
A small smile tugged at his mouth. The tension that had been hanging between us for days felt lighter now.
Something heavy had finally shifted between us, and maybe that was why the last of my doubts started to fall away.
Someone playing us wouldn’t have led us to a rescue, and he wouldn’t look that shaken seeing the shifter.
I’d been wrong, and realizing that filled me with a strange, buoyant warmth. By the time we reached packlands again, the sun had started dipping toward the horizon.
Gino’s truck was already there. I assumed he’d taken the deer shifter to the pack clinic. I parked near the pack house and cut the engine. For a moment, we just sat there.
I leaned back in my seat and glanced over at him.
“You did good today,” I told Mason.
Mason blinked. “I didn’t really do anything.”
“You led us to him,” I pointed out.
He rubbed the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable with the praise.
“Well, I’m just glad he’s alive,” Mason said.
I studied him for a second. Then the words slipped out before I could overthink them.
“Hey.”
He looked at me. “Yeah?”
I cleared my throat. My pulse suddenly felt ridiculously loud.
“Would you maybe want to go out with me sometime?” I asked.
His eyes widened slightly. “Like, out?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Like a date.”
The word hung between us. For a split second, I wondered if I’d completely misread everything. Then Mason’s cheeks flushed faintly.
“You mean tonight?” Mason asked.
A laugh escaped me.
“I mean, if you want, but we could do it another day,” I said.
He looked down at his hands for a moment, then back up at me, and smiled shyly.
“I’d like that,” he said.
Warmth spread through my chest so fast it almost felt dizzying.
“Good,” I said.