Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
CARTER
The fender of my cruiser gleams a dark cerulean blue, like the sky at dusk, as I swipe the microfiber cloth over its polished surface. A year has passed since I stepped down as the pack’s Alpha, and I’ve had more free time than I know what to do with.
You could find the witch. My wolf growls inside my head, magic stirring under my skin, begging to be let free.
“You’ll have to be more specific.” I straighten, stretching out my legs after crouching too long. “We know plenty of witches, and to my knowledge none are lost.”
You know who I’m talking about.
“I’m not about to chase tail over a witch I met once, over a year ago, who hasn’t spoken to me since.
” Who refuses to even acknowledge my existence.
That hasn’t stopped me from keeping tabs on her safety, though.
From cheering her on from the sidelines.
A deep longing tugs at my chest, but I ignore it, packing up the wax and tools and carrying them back into the garage.
She is ours.
“We don’t own—” My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I sigh, grateful for the distraction. “Hello?”
“Carter? It’s Josephine. Do you have a moment?”
The edge of anxiety in her tone sets off warning bells. Even my wolf goes quiet.
“Yeah, I’m just cleaning up. What’s going on?” I wedge the phone between my ear and shoulder as I slot the detailing equipment into their containers. The garage door slides shut behind me with a soft thud, sealing out the sun’s last rays and the crisp air.
“Well, I hate to bother you. I know so much has changed since you—”
“Josephine, it’s fine. What’s wrong?” I move into the kitchen, scrubbing my hands with Gojo, watching the grime swirl down the stainless-steel sink.
“It’s Alexandria…” She sniffles, and my lips tug downward. “She’s missing. But alive.”
“Missing?” I grab a towel from the hook, drying my hands. “What do you mean missing but alive? How long has she been gone? Are you sure she’s not just off with friends? She must be sixteen—seventeen now?”
“She’s seventeen,” Josephine confirms with a shaky breath. “But she hasn’t gained full control of her wolf. You know how kids are at that age—hormones all over the place.”
“Yes, I remember.” I rub at my brow, memories of my brother and me brawling at that age surfacing. Our father always pushing us to dominate the wolf within.
I’ll show you domin—
“Well, it’s been a little over a week,” Josephine continues.
“We thought she was staying with a friend. It’s near the end of spring vacation and she’s got a few more months of high school left.
Normally she tells us, but she’s been emotional, rebellious, pushing curfews.
We were picking our battles. But no one has seen her in days.
Then her friend Margaret told us Alexandria texted yesterday.
Said she was safe, had found a part-time job… but wasn’t coming home.”
“Why didn’t Margaret tell you sooner?” I pace, mind already racing through possibilities.
“I don’t know. You know how teens are.” Her voice cracks, sobs spilling through the line. “I just want my baby girl back, Carter. And I didn’t know who else to ask. I thought… maybe now that you’re not shouldering leadership of the pack, you could find her. Bring her home where she belongs.”
My chest tightens as memories flash—my brother walking away from the pack, leaving me to follow in our father’s footsteps. It had taken everything in me not to run too.
“I’ll do what I can. Do you have any idea where she might have gone? Did she drive?” I rub at the back of my neck, dread whispering through every possibility. The worst—her losing control of her wolf, hurting innocents, and living scarred by it for forever. If she survived the shift back.
“All I have is the photo she sent Margaret. Not much else. We tried tracking her phone, but she turned the locator off. Her car’s still in the driveway, so she can’t have gone far… right?”
“Don’t worry, Josephine. I’ll find her. Text me the photo. In the meantime, see if Margaret can reach her again—any clue to where she is, or at least that she’s okay. I’ll find her.”
“Okay. Thank you.” She hangs up, and seconds later my phone pings with a photo notification.
I forward the image to my laptop. The screen flashes confirmation, but I linger, studying the picture. A seventeen-year-old with wavy brown hair and olive skin grins back at me, flashing a peace sign against a backdrop of some small-town street.
But in my mind, I don’t see the teenager. I see the little girl she once was—three years old, swinging between her parents’ arms as they walked her home.
With a sigh, I open the fridge, grab a chilled protein shake, crack the seal, and take a long swallow.
The vanilla-sweet taste does nothing to chase off the weight pressing at the back of my mind.
My feet carry me into the office, leather chair creaking as I sink down and roll forward until my knees bump the desk.
I should feel lighter. I’m not Alpha anymore, not the one shouldering every crisis.
Connor carries that burden now—and he’s damn good at it.
Still… instinct doesn’t fade so easily. Every face, every problem, every threat feels like it still ties back to me.
Years of leading don’t vanish just because you hand over the title.
Just because we’re not Alpha in title doesn’t make our role any less important. The pack still needs us.
The girl’s image lingers, stirring an ache in my chest. Whatever she’s gotten tangled up in, I can’t ignore it. That’s not who I am. Not who I’ll ever be. My wolf paces beneath my skin, restless. Alpha or not, these people—this pack—will always be mine to protect.
“Where are you?” I pull the photo up full screen and zoom in. Blurry background. Damn teens and their fancy portrait modes. I toss it into a security imaging program, sharpening until the street signs and shops come into focus.
“Second Avenue and Lake Street. That really narrows it down,” I mutter, rolling my eyes as the map loads hundreds of results. “Okay, let’s try something else.” Sliding along the photo, I trace the shop signs. “Café, Bakery, The Bookshop—”
They really know how to stand out, eh?
“Generic as hell,” I say. “But—ah hah.” Down the street, a woman carries a bag stamped with a cartoon pile of candy and Delilah’s Divine Delights in looping script. I type it in.
A news article pops up: “Delilah’s Divine Delights, Bringing Handmade Confections to Greyhaven for Twenty Years.”
Greyhaven. Got you, little wolf pup. But why does that town sound so familiar?
I fire off a text to Josephine.
I may know where she is. I’ll check it out tomorrow and keep you updated.
Her reply comes quickly:
Thank you, Carter. Just bring my baby girl home.
I pull up directions on my phone. Six hours.
Greyhaven is six hours away. I groan and pinch the bridge of my nose.
How did she get that far without her car in just a few days?
Josephine wasn’t clear on the timeline—maybe Alexandria left the first day, maybe she lingered before bolting.
She could’ve run the whole way in wolf form. Or hitched a ride.
A teenage wolf with barely any control on the loose, or a teenage girl thumbing rides with strangers. I don’t know which is worse.
Sighing, I lean back and drag my hands through my short black hair.
A six-hour drive, if I’m lucky enough to find her right away.
Greyhaven isn’t huge, but it sits right outside of Clarksdale, and that city’s population could swallow her whole.
The photo is from today, but what if she’s already moved on? No. Don’t go there. Focus.
I finish the shake, rinse the bottle, and drop it in the recycling bin.
Moonlight ride?
The clock on my phone reads 6:30 p.m. If I leave now, I’ll hit Greyhaven just after midnight—enough time to catch a few hours’ sleep before starting the search.
I shrug into my leather jacket, throw toiletries and a few days’ clothes into a duffle, and brew a quick cup of coffee. The rich aroma fills the kitchen as I down it in three gulps. In the garage, I hit the button for the door, reach for my helmet on the shelf—and pause.
The second helmet sits beside it, unused. I’d never let anyone else ride my bike, but when I bought it, something urged me to order a spare. My chest aches as I swipe both helmets, strapping one to the back of the seat.
Come on, Captain America.
I roll my eyes and swing onto the bike. The engine roars to life, humming steadily between my thighs.
“Let’s go rescue a wolf pup.”