Annabella
Chapter twenty-eight
The cabin had the same faded blue siding. Same carefully trimmed yard. Same deliberate invisibility at the edge of Pack territory. Years of paying Lucas Fallow to keep my family safe, and nothing had changed.
Except me.
My wolf pressed against my skin, frantic with the need to know, to see, to protect. I mapped the place: two windows on the front, curtains drawn. Side gate to the left. Tree cover thirty yards behind. My hands itched to move, to act, and I shoved them into my jacket pockets to keep still.
“They’re here.” Sam’s voice, quiet and certain beside me. “Cinnamon cookies, lavender, and…” He paused. “Raspberry shampoo. Small person. Your sister?”
I exhaled so hard it felt like my ribs cracked. “Ellie.”
“They’re all here. Everyone’s heartbeat is steady.” His hand found mine, warm and solid. “Ready?”
Too fucking right I was ready.
Before I could knock, footsteps thundered inside. Small, running feet that I would have known anywhere. The door flew open.
“Bella!” Ellie’s shriek could have woken wolves three counties over. She launched herself off the porch and into my arms. Her heartbeat drummed against mine, fast and fierce and real.
“Hey, monkey.”
“I knews you would come back! I told Aunt Jo. I told her and told her.” She pulled back, eyes wide, and spotted Sam over my shoulder. “Who’s that? Is he nice? Does he like cookies?”
“He’s—” My mate? A Shaw brother? Here to protect both you and me? “He’s Sam.”
“And yes, I like cookies very much.”
Aunt Jo appeared in the doorway. Her face did about six things in two seconds, white, then red, then her mouth twisted, her eyes filled and she grabbed me, Ellie and all, pulling us into a hug that squeezed the air from my lungs.
“Annabella.” Her voice shook. “Oh, thank the Moon Goddess. We heard—We thought—”
She couldn’t finish. Didn’t need to.
Uncle Fred appeared behind her. He didn’t speak. Just wrapped his arms around all three of us, his chin on top of my head.
“Inside,” Sam said, his eyes tracking the tree-line. “We shouldn’t stay in the open.”
That snapped Uncle Fred out of it. He nodded, instinct overriding the emotion, and ushered us through the door.
Aunt Jo locked it behind us, even if it was a useless gesture against Pack wolves.
Ellie grabbed my hand and started pulling me toward the hallway.
“Are you staying, Bella? Can you read me a story? I got a new book about a witch who has a cat who talks, and the cat is really rude—”
“Ellie, sweetie,” Aunt Jo interrupted gently. “Why don’t you go tell your mom that Bella’s here?”
“Okay! She’s gonna be so happy!” She scampered off, curls bouncing.
The second she turned the corner, Uncle Fred’s attention locked on Sam. Recognition hit—I saw it sharpen his whole posture. “Sam Shaw?”
“Hey, Fred.” Sam kept his voice easy, but I could feel the urgency running underneath through the bond, a low current of move, go, now. “Jo. Good to see you again. Wish it was under better circumstances.”
“Howling hell.” Aunt Jo pressed both hands to her mouth. “Is it Jase? Sofia—Is she—?”
“They’re good. Really good.” Sam’s smile reached his eyes. “Sofia’s mated to my brother Derek. Runs the Bottley. And Jase is working as an investigator. Growing into himself.” He glanced at me, then back. “They miss you. Both of them.”
Aunt Jo made a sound that was half sob, half laugh. “We’ve wanted to go back so badly. But we couldn’t leave Annabella’s mother, couldn’t leave Ellie—”
“We were so glad when we got your text. When we heard about Adarcan…” Uncle Fred’s voice went rough.
“Lucas came to gloat. Said you’d been arrested, thrown in the Kennel.
We didn’t tell your mother—couldn’t risk it with her health—but we’d been going half mad trying to figure out how to get you out. ”
“We tried Webster.” Aunt Jo’s mouth thinned. “Called him a dozen times. He wouldn’t answer. Wouldn’t even return our messages.”
There it was. The confirmation of what I already knew, Simon had abandoned me the second I became a liability.
Two weeks ago, that would have gutted me. Now? Now all I felt was a cold, clear rage that had settled into my bones like iron.
“I’m out. But we need to leave. All of us. Right now.”
Uncle Fred frowned. “Leave? But why? And how did you get out? No one gets out of Adarcan.”
“Long story, and I’ll tell you every word of it. But not here. Not with Lucas potentially minutes away.”
Aunt Jo’s hand found my arm. “Annabella, what’s happening?”
I took a breath. Forced my voice level. This was the part that would hurt them—Aunt Jo and Uncle Fred had believed in Simon too. They’d left their children, moved back to this miserable Pack, because they’d believed.
“Webster isn’t who we thought he was. He’s been lying. To all of us. For years.”
Uncle Fred went very still. “Lying about what?”
“Everything. He’s the one behind ripple. Behind an operation to destabilize the Packs and break the peace between Shifters and humans. And he’s been working Victor Kane, the human supremacist who’s taken a seat on the Wolf Council.”
“No.” Aunt Jo shook her head. “I know he’s flawed but Simon would never—He hates ripple. He fought against—”
“I’ve seen the records, Aunt Jo. The shipping manifests. The emails. I sat in a room and watched it laid out, piece by piece, and I didn’t want to believe it either.” I swallowed hard. “But it’s real.”
Aunt Jo searched my face. Whatever she found there drained the color from hers. “You sure?”
I nodded. “I am. I’m going to stop him. But he knows where you are. And if he thinks you know something, or that you could be used against me—”
“Goddess above,” Uncle Fred breathed.
“We need to get you somewhere he can’t reach. Somewhere safe.” I looked toward the hallway. “Where’s Mom?”
“Emma’s in her room.” Aunt Jo’s face tightened. “She’s awake, but she’s…It’s been worse lately.”
“You need to pack,” Sam said. “Only what you can carry. We need to move fast.”
“Pack?” Uncle Fred looked between us. “And go where?”
“Three Rivers.” I held his gaze.
Uncle Fred glanced at Aunt Jo. Something passed between them—twenty years of marriage compressed into a single look. Then Aunt Jo straightened, and the woman I remembered from my childhood clicked into place.
“Fred, the emergency bags from the hall closet. I’ll get Ellie’s things.”
“Go see your mother,” Sam said to me. “I’ll help them.”
I crouched to meet Ellie, who’d come running back with her face lit up like a small sun. “Mama’s awake! She wants to see you right now, Bella!”
“Can you help Aunt Jo and Uncle Fred pack your favorite toys? Only what fits in your backpack, okay?”
Her eyes went round. “Are we going on a trip?”
“The biggest trip. You’re going to meet your cousins Sofia and Jase. And Sofia’s shop has the best pastries you’ve ever tasted.”
“Better than Aunt Jo’s?”
“Don’t answer that,” Aunt Jo called from the hallway, the ghost of a smile breaking through.
Ellie scampered off. I straightened and found Sam watching me with those dark eyes that saw everything, missed nothing.
“If Lucas shows up—” I started.
“I’ll buy you time. Go be with your mom.”
I found her propped against pillows, looking more fragile than the last time I’d seen her.
Skin nearly translucent, cheekbones sharp beneath hollowed cheeks, her arms thin enough that I could see the blue veins running beneath the surface.
But her green eyes—the same eyes as Ellie’s—were clear when they locked onto mine.
“You’re really here.”
“Of course I am.” I sat on the edge of the bed and took her hand. Her fingers felt like kindling wrapped in tissue paper. “We’re leaving, Mom. All of us. I’m taking you to Three Rivers.”
Fear flashed across her face. “No, Annabella. Oliver—The things he does. It’s not safe, sweetie. Not for you, not for any of—”
“Oliver isn’t Alpha anymore, remember? Aunt Jo and Uncle Fred told you. Ryan Shaw and his mate Mai run the Pack now.”
She blinked. A slow nod, her brow creasing. “Oh. Yes. Yes, I remember.” Then her face brightened, and she smiled at me. “Annabella! You’re here! I’m so glad you came.”
I kept my expression steady. Kept smiling. But underneath, my stomach dropped through the floor.
Her memory was so much worse. The gaps were wider now, closing and reopening within seconds, swallowing whole conversations like sinkholes.
We still didn’t know what was wrong. It was rare for Shifters to fall ill like this, and the doctors had offered nothing beyond medication adjustments and worried looks.
Maybe Thomas would see something they hadn’t. Maybe there was still hope.
There has to be hope. Hex it all, there has to be.
“We’re going somewhere safe, Mom. Somewhere they can help you.”
She squeezed my hand. Barely any pressure behind it. “You’re a good girl, Annabella. You were always such a good girl.”
I pressed my lips together hard enough to taste copper. I would not cry. Not here, not now. I kissed her forehead, breathed in the fading scent of her, wildflowers under the notes of decay and electricity, and started to help get her dressed.
Twenty minutes later, we were by the front door. Sam had gone out to scout the area. Mom was dressed and leaning on Uncle Fred’s arm, looking bewildered but cooperative. Emergency bags packed. Ellie clutching her stuffed fox in one hand and my fingers in the other, vibrating with excitement.
“Where are we going?” she asked for the fifth time.
“Somewhere safe,” Aunt Jo said, slinging a bag over her shoulder. “Somewhere better.”
“You’re going to meet your cousins, Sofia and Jase, remember?”
Ellie’s face scrunched. “Will they like me?”
“They’re going to love you, Ellie-belly.” I smoothed her curls.
Sam appeared in the doorway. The ease had gone from his body. His shoulders were set, his weight on the balls of his feet, his eyes sharp. “We need to move. Now.”
Uncle Fred supported Mom carefully. She leaned into him, her head against his shoulder, trusting him completely. Aunt Jo swept Ellie up onto her hip.
My wolf pressed against my skin, restless. The hair on the back of my neck stood up.
“Sam—”
“I know.” His voice was barely a murmur. “I smell them.”
My blood went cold. I shifted my position—putting myself between my family and the door, squaring my shoulders, feeling my witch side stir in my chest like embers catching a draft.
We made it three steps onto the porch before I saw them.
Lucas Fallow stood at the edge of our clearing, Tara at his side. Eight enforcers flanked them—including three I recognized. The ones from school who’d stood in a circle and laughed as Lucas snapped my arm like a twig when I was thirteen years old.
There would be no sneaking out of Ashridge now.
No, if the look on Lucas’s face was anything to go by, we’d have to fight our way out.