Chapter 17 Tobias
TOBIAS
“That’s it. Now watch your height. Careful as you get close to that larger pine—excellent!” Grant claps Evelyn on the shoulders. “Well done.”
Evelyn beams proudly.
We’ve been out here for over an hour. While they take pictures of the land from above, I take pictures from below with the trusty Nikon.
I catch glimpses of the wolves through the trees, darting through drifts and shaking off loose flurries that sparkle in the sunlight.
Half of the pack went for a run earlier this morning, both to check the property and to let their animals out.
Rowen explained that going a few days without shifting—or ten in this case—is like going a few days without a shower.
He gets itchy, uncomfortable, and needs to break free.
It’s strange how I feel the same way, yet without the need to shift.
Is this what my life will be like now? Like I’m… waiting for something? Holding my breath between moments of sunshine and happiness?
I fucking hate it.
The cold bites through my jacket, sharp enough to remind me I’m still here. I just want that peace again—what I’d felt right before Taren dove back into her research.
I walk around the yard, snapping a few photos of the sunlight cutting through the trees, smoke curling from the chimney, and the pale shine of frost on the wreath. The beauty here is truly endless.
But my heart isn’t in it today. I’m fighting a headache that makes every step painful. All I want to do is lie down.
“Hey, look at that,” Grant says, pointing at the screen on the controller. “Two deer are going at it by the creek.”
Evelyn rolls her eyes before sending the drone in another direction.
“Honestly, though, it looks clear. No tracks that I’m seeing,” Evelyn says.
Sage takes a long sip from his coffee mug beside her. “Let’s hope it stays that way.”
The two men exchange a look, like they know that’s asking the impossible.
It won’t stay this calm. It can’t. Not when two people the coven want are in this house. How long before Rip discovers I’m here?
Disheartened, I head inside and settle onto the couch, the scent of pine and gingerbread swirling around me. It’s Christmas Eve, which in it’s own way is filling me with all kinds of feelings. Longing and ache and… just things I shouldn’t dare want, yet I do. Deeply.
I scroll through the photos, mark the ones I want to edit, then set the camera aside. In the quiet room, I pull the leather bracelet from my pocket and turn it over in my hands. The delicate knots and tiny beads have worn through in some places as if Rip wore it for years.
I haven’t been able to put it on yet, and I’m not sure if I ever will. Not when it was a part of him. But I can’t not carry it either, clinging to Red’s hope that this could somehow give us a warning.
But what good will the warning do? I can’t outrun Rip. I can’t fight him. What am I supposed to do if he comes? Say my prayers and hope he doesn’t find me? It’s unfair to expect Rowen or the pack to fight Rip when the vampire could kill them too.
If only I hadn’t stayed with my friends that night in the park. Then none of this would’ve happened. I would still be a boring, ordinary human. Not this… half-changed thing with shadows under my skin.
I’ll keep you safe, Tobias.
Rowen’s lingering promise calms me, even if it feels impossible. I clench the bracelet, catching a faint whiff of cedar and pine from where he’d brushed past me earlier, and I look out the window for my favorite reddish-black wolf.
Footsteps sound from the stairs and a moment later, Evan and Jericho appear, freshly showered and freshly… well, sated. It’s obvious. The quiet smiles and loosened energy give them away.
Jericho sits on the opposite couch across from me, with a small sketchbook in his hand. I’ve seen him drawing often, but have never gotten close enough to see his work. Rowen says it’s some of the best he’s ever seen.
After grabbing a drink, Evan joins Jericho.
Something silver glints on Evan’s neck, just opposite his large scar, and it makes my stomach twist. His mate mark.
How can Evan be okay with Jericho drinking from him?
Doesn’t it hurt? It felt like my skin was being torn to shreds whenever the vampires bit me.
Jericho opens his sketchpad while Evan plays a game on his phone. I chew my lip, watching Jericho out of the corner of my eye. I don’t fear him anymore. I just… don’t trust him yet either. Not completely.
A knot tightens in my chest slightly, and my fingertips brush against the couch. He doesn’t deserve the space I’ve been forcing between us. Jericho has been nothing but patient and kind since I met him.
“How did you end up in all this?” I say on a whim. “With the vampires, I mean. Evan told me some of it, but… I want to know more.”
Jericho seems surprised I’m talking to him. I’ve mostly avoided him.
“You don’t have to tell me,” I add quickly. “I was just curious.”
“Oh, I don’t mind. It’s just not a pleasant story.”
“Is anyone’s? Anyone who knows Foxx, I mean. Seems like anyone who breathes the same air as them ends up hurt or dead.”
He gives a short, humorless laugh. “Yeah. No shit.”
Jericho closes his sketchbook and sets it aside, exhaling slowly. “Before Evan and I were together, I went to a club looking for a hookup. Stumbled into the wrong one and met the wrong guy.”
“Foxx?”
He nods. “He cornered me into a deal. Told me I had to give him something if I wanted to leave The Iris.”
Evan reaches for his hand, their fingers lacing together. The sight of it, so casual and intimate, makes me ache with longing.
I chew my lip, waiting.
“Anyway, long story short, he turned me that night. Drank from me until I became weak. Unable to fight him. Couldn’t do anything.”
I flinch. I saw them do that to too many others at the club.
He pauses. “Tobias, you know about vampire gifts, but do you know what Foxx’s vampire gift is?”
I shake my head.
“He can sense another vampire’s gift by touch, before they even know it themselves. It’s how he’s building his coven. Foxx knew I’d be able to wield fire long before I did. It’s why he hunted me. Why he’s still hunting me.”
Jericho lifts his free hand, fingertips burning a faint orange. Light flickers across his palm before vanishing. My stomach tightens, a mix of awe and fear, just like it did that night in the club. Fire is supposed to kill a vampire, yet he’s immune.
“Foxx wants to own me just like Rip believes he owns you. And I don’t think he’ll ever stop until one of us dies.”
Evan pulls their joined hands closer. Jericho turns to kiss him. My heart hammers oddly. Not jealousy—just acceptance that Jericho can be so… normal.
I play with the bracelet, twisting each bead. The light of the Christmas tree reflects off each one. Jericho really does understand. He wasn’t a captive like I was, but he’s been a prisoner just the same. Violated. His body used and marked and forever changed without permission. I clench my teeth.
“How’d you end up here, though? With the shifters.”
Evan laughs under his breath. “That’s my fault. I, uh, kind of parked on the pack’s land without realizing it. Nearly got Jer killed in the process too.” He cringes, half in humor, half in seriousness.
There’s clearly a story there, but I let it go. It doesn’t matter. What matters is they blessedly stumbled into a powerful sanctuary, just like I did. And now Jericho is their greatest threat, just like I am. We have targets on our backs that will eventually bring the enemy to their doorstep.
The Clearwater Pack doesn’t deserve that.
They also suffered in this, though. They lost someone too. I have to remember that; otherwise, the guilt will eat me alive.
I trace my scars, my throat tight. All this pain. All this death. For what? So Foxx can be a powerful leader with his collection of vamps? Sounds to me like he can’t even control them, if his gift is simply knowing what they are and not using what they are. But maybe that’s where Orem comes in.
That thought has been bothering me. Foxx has been the leader of the coven since the beginning, but with Orem in the mix…
“How do we get out of this?” I mutter to no one. My panic rises, clawing at me, but Jericho cuts in before it can overwhelm me.
“We’ll find them, Toby.” Jericho’s dark green eyes are steady and calm. I want to believe him. “We will get out of this.”
Tears brim my eyes. “How though? It just seems so… hopeless.”
Jericho shakes his head. “Don’t give up yet. We have help. A couple of friends are keeping an eye out in the city, and Forest has other packs looking for them too. They’ll show their ugly faces eventually, and when they do? They won’t get far. I promise.”
“Who’s in the city?” Grant asks, bringing the drone inside.
“Kaine and Willow.”
Grant’s face sours. “You’re still in touch with that asshole?”
Jericho’s expression is unreadable. “He saved Evan’s life.”
“After trying to kill him,” he says before stomping off.
I’m not sure I like this Kaine guy. “Kaine is a vampire, right? Rowen mentioned him.”
They both nod. “They both are.”
I suppress a shiver. More vampires. Great.
Claws click against the hardwood floor, making me turn, and I smile when I see Rowen trotting in as a wolf. His dark fur is dusted with snow. Before I can react, he drops something wet and limp into my lap. I nearly jump out of my seat when I realize what it is.
“Rowen! Gross!” I kick the dead rabbit to the floor.
Red bursts out laughing. “Ah, he brought you an offering. I’ve wondered when that would happen. Had it happen a time or two myself.”
I blink at him. “Offering?” What does that even mean?
Red just grins, grabbing a rag from the kitchen to deal with the dead animal.
Rowen licks my wrist, then rests his big head in my lap, peering up at me with gorgeous dark brown eyes.
I run my fingers through his fur, then press a kiss to his muzzle. “You big doofus.” He licks my cheek.
I laugh despite myself, the tension in my shoulders easing for the first time all evening.
The ache in my chest deepens—not anxiety, but something much more pleasant.
How can I be angry about my past when it led me here?
I never would’ve met Rowen or Ivy or Jasmine or any of them if I hadn’t been bitten.
The thought of not having these people in my life… hurts.
I scratch Rowen’s ears and lean in, pressing our foreheads together. “You’re so annoyingly cute.”
His tail thumps against the floor.
“Rowen, get!” Grant calls. “You know the rule—no wolves in the house!”
Rowen huffs but doesn’t move.
That makes me laugh. I wrap my arms around him, whispering, “You’re going to get us in trouble. Go!”
Finally, Rowen gives me one last nudge and pads toward the hallway.
Red hasn’t stopped smiling. “Atta boy, Romeo,” he says, making Sage laugh.
I narrow my eyes at them. “What is with you guys?”
They don’t answer.
A few minutes later, Rowen returns fully clothed. His hair is still a little damp from the shift, cheeks pink from the cold, but he seems happy. Relaxed. The simple gray T-shirt he’d put on is wrinkled, one sleeve half-twisted, but somehow he still steals my breath.
I force myself to look away.
Rowen says nothing as he drops beside me on the couch, close enough that our shoulders and knees brush. The faint smell of snow and pine still clings to his skin.
“Seriously? A rabbit?” I murmur.
His mouth quirks. “You didn’t like it?”
I wrinkle my nose. “Hard pass.”
That earns me a soft laugh. He reaches for my hand. Not quite holding it, but not… not holding it either. My belly squirms. Is this what butterflies feel like? I swear this is what butterflies feel like.
Rowen rests his head on the back of the couch, thumb brushing absently against my skin. My heart slows, calming for the first time all day.
Again, I think about the night everything changed—the bite, the sickness, the emptiness that has followed me ever since. For so long, I’ve hated myself for it. For being forced into it. Letting it happen.
But sitting here now, warmth seeping into me from where Rowen’s hand touches mine, I wonder if maybe it wasn’t all ruin. Maybe something good found me in the wreckage. The only question is, how do I keep them safe? How do I keep Rowen safe?
I lean toward him, wrapping an arm around his middle and tossing the blanket over him too.
Rowen sighs contentedly, turning his head to look at me. This close, I can see gold flecks in his dark eyes. “You okay?”
I don’t answer. I just hold him. Closing my eyes, I breathe in his familiar pine and cinnamon scent.
The answer is yes. For this moment, this terribly short, fleeting moment, I am okay. The world outside is still dangerous, Foxx is still out there, Rip still thinks he owns me—but this, right now, is a tiny piece of happiness.
And Rip can’t take that away from me.
If happiness can exist in a moment this small, maybe it’s enough to start believing in more.