Chapter 30 Tobias
TOBIAS
Ican’t sit still.
For two days, I’ve been pacing the house, thinking. Replaying things in my head—the bird, the voices, Red’s conversation about shifting. Rip.
I don’t have answers for any of it, and it makes me want to scream.
I climb out of bed and wrap a blanket around my shoulders. “I’m going downstairs.”
Rowen looks up from his computer. “You okay?”
“Yeah.”
His concern deepens. “Toby, you know you can talk to me, right?”
My heart sinks at his hurt tone, like he knows I’m keeping something from him. Of course he knows. He’s probably feeling it too. I’ve felt little pieces of his emotions yesterday and today. Just snippets, becoming stronger each time. But it’s enough to break my heart.
Rowen is so worried about me, and there’s nothing he can do about it.
“I’m fine. Really,” I say, forcing a smile.
I pull the blanket tighter around me as I walk downstairs. The room is warm from the fireplace, the air comforting. I sink into the couch and pull my knees up. My head pounds, just like it has for two days. Weeks, really.
The headaches never seem to stop now, and that tickle at the base of my skull never goes away. I wish it would. I wish either the whispers would say what they need to say and disappear for good, or just leave me the hell alone.
Instead, they’re lingering. Always. The presence is always there.
Is this how it was for my mom? Why she always seemed so tired? The constant headaches and lack of sleep are certainly catching up with me. To all of us, really. Everyone is on edge, but for different reasons.
Forest is in his usual spot near the hearth, studying the pictures of the ravens on the tablet. Grant has confirmed it’s not just one raven but two circling our property. They both have curious markings. Bronson confirmed they’ve seen them too.
“What if we shoot one of them down?” Sage murmurs.
Forest hums. “Jericho has been trying already.”
Shoot one of them down? Gods. I don’t want to think about that.
Turning, I drape an arm across the back of the couch and look out the window a few feet away. It’s so gray and dreary today, light flurries drifting down and making everything wet. I miss the thick snow of December, when everything had been so pristine and pretty. Now it’s just… messy and cold.
When the whispers start, I almost don’t even notice. I’m so accustomed now to the frayed edges in my mind. They’re so faint, so far away that I can almost ignore them, like a low-static hum in the back of my skull, or a fan in another room.
Please don’t let me freak out.
Pulling the blanket tighter, I close my eyes and try to block out the sound. But the noise steadily increases, becoming indistinguishable words too jumbled to make sense of.
Red said the whispers were just shifter instincts—some ancient part of my animal trying to guide me.
But this? This isn’t instinct. Instinct doesn’t sound like…
words. It doesn’t tug at you like someone’s threading a hook through your mind.
Instinct warns. This feels like something trying to break in.
It’s like someone speaking through an ancient microphone, every other syllable jagged or missing.
The tug at my skull intensifies. I wince and clap a hand over the back of my neck. This isn’t normal.
Suddenly, like a radio frequency finally finding the right wavelength, the static fades and the voice—his voice—becomes crystal clear. I nearly scream.
Tobiasss.
I snap my eyes open, expecting to see the dark-skinned man sitting right in front of me. But nothing has changed. Forest is still reading in the chair talking to Sage. Jasmine is in the kitchen. Taren is feeding Aster in the high chair.
Everything is normal.
And yet, it’s not.
There’s another presence here—and it’s somehow larger than all the others combined.
My heart pounds frantically.
I twist the bracelet on my wrist, panic rising—but it isn’t warm. What’s happening?
Come out, come out, wherever you are…
A shiver races down my spine as I look around. Again, it sounds like Rip is right here—in this room!
Are you hiding in your little den? Rip teases. Playing house with your new… friends?
Blood drains from my face. Does he know? Fuck, does Rip know where I am?
No. That’s impossible. We haven’t seen anyone from the coven. So this is just my mind playing cruel tricks on me, right? The half-blood making me imagine things that aren’t here?
“He’s not here,” I whisper.
His laugh is almost resentful. Come on, pet. Did you really think I’d never find you?
The air rushes out of me. I look out the window, hands shaking. This isn’t real. He’s not here. How can Rip know where I am?
Getting up, I walk to the large window by the front door.
My knees shake, and I pull the blanket tight.
I make a mental list of my surroundings: the snow patches have melted into small puddles across the driveway, eight cars line themselves along the side, and someone has locked the storage unit securely.
Everything seems normal.
“I’m fine,” I mutter. “Totally, perfectly fine.”
Rip’s mood seems to shift. I can almost feel him sneering, lips curled back.
Do you have any idea how stupid I felt when I saw you playing with your…
dog? How impossible it was that you were right under my nose this whole time?
His voice is thick with anger. Dangerous.
All those times I came to check on Jericho for Foxx, and here you are… hiding amongst them.
My heart plummets, and I shake my head. The blanket slips from my shoulders as I shake. No. No, it can’t be. This isn’t real. He’s not here. When would he have seen me?
Come outside, Tobias.
I reach for the doorknob, determined to prove to myself it’s all in my head. But something stills my hand.
What if it is him? What if the mark… Oh, God.
I touch the bracelet again. Is it my imagination, or is it warmer?
“Leave me alone,” I whisper.
Rip’s laugh is like ice in my veins. Leave you? Oh, no, pet. That wasn’t our agreement. You were never supposed to leave. You’re mine.
I lean forward, trying to see more of the trees. Is he here, hiding? Everything looks normal.
I twist the bracelet again, and this time, I know I’m not imagining it. The leather definitely has some warmth to it. Faint, but it’s there.
Come outside, Tobias, he tries again, his tone cold.
My pulse quickens, and all I can think about is Rowen. My mate.
I stand my ground, something fierce bubbling up inside me.
“No.”
Rip is quiet for half a beat. No?
“No. I’m not yours anymore!”
His anger makes me recoil, heat searing through my shoulder and down my arm. I cry out, clutching the mark. It seems to pulse under my skin, and that damn tug at my mind is like a fucking noose.
“Tobias?” Taren says, clearly alarmed.
I ignore her, looking through the window. “Where is he? Where the fuck is he?”
“Who?”
Something catches my attention, and I look up. Blood drains from my face when I see a tiny speck of black against the dreary gray sky. It can’t be.
“That’s impossible,” I breathe. The raven?
The bird circles twice in a figure eight before diving toward the trees. The closer it gets to the house, the warmer the leather bracelet becomes.
The bird lands on the tree at the end of the driveway, right next to another raven. For a long moment, I can’t move. I can’t breathe. My brain scrambles to make sense of it. How is Rip a raven? He’s a vampire, not a shifter.
Come to me, Tobias.
I shake my head again. “No.”
Rip’s anger snaps like a rubber band inside my head. I said come!
“You don’t own me!” I shout.
Movement stirs behind me, but I don’t dare look away from the window, afraid that I’ll lose sight of Rip.
“Tobias? Are you okay?” Jasmine is just as concerned as Taren. I can only imagine what they’re thinking: He’s going crazy. He’s losing his mind.
I don’t answer.
When I don’t move, Rip tips his head back and caws. The other raven flutters. Come, pet.
“I said no!” My voice echoes off the glass.
“Seriously, Toby, what’s going on?” Taren touches my arm, but I jerk away.
Last chance.
I fist my hands. “I’ll never go with you!”
Another wave of white-hot anger. I clap a hand to the back of my neck.
You leave me no choice.
At that moment, a black and red wolf streaks across the driveway toward the house. I scream as the ravens dive straight for her.
“Ivy, look out!”
Ivy can’t hear me from within the house. I beat on the glass. “IVY!”
Ivy yelps when the birds pierce her pelt with their talons. She looks around disoriented, and one of them scratches her face.
I scream again. “LEAVE HER ALONE!”
Come out, and it ends now.
Ivy snaps at the nearest bird, ripping some feathers out. The ravens don’t stop attacking, cutting into her with their talons and beaks. Every yelp is a knife to my heart. Blood spurts from her side as she snarls, attempting to grab one of the birds, but they’re incredibly fast—unnaturally fast.
“Please, stop!” I cry, sheer panic tearing me open.
“Holy shit! Ivy!” Taren shouts, just now noticing the fight outside.
The front door opens and two wolves streak across the gravel toward Ivy, ears pinned back as they growl.
Faster than I thought possible, the wolves lunge for the birds, but they twist out of reach.
Jasmine narrowly misses the leg of one. Taren yelps as the other bird sinks its talons into her shoulder, then the ravens lift and take off together.
Rip’s voice reaches me just before he disappears. Next time, she dies.
I crumple to the ground, vision blurring.
Ivy shudders, feathers and fur floating around her. Blood drips down her legs, staining the gravel. She’s heaving hard.
“What the hell was that about?” Red mutters from the front door before taking off across the driveway to check on them.
I scream when a hand touches my shoulder, scrambling away.
Forest stares down at me, brows knit.
My whole body trembles. “It’s Rip,” I say through numb lips. “The raven is Rip. He’s been spying on Jericho. He… fuck, he saw me! And now—oh, gods.”
His face drains of color, and he seems just as confused as I feel. “That’s not possible.”
“I know, but it’s him. I swear. I know it’s him!”
Footsteps pound down the stairs a few seconds before Rowen appears in the entry. He scans the room, then rushes over, sliding on his knees beside me. “What the hell? I felt you upstairs.” He rubs his chest, as if he’d physically felt something.
“Your sister,” I say. “Go check on her.”
He doesn’t move.
I point outside. “Please, Rowen! Go! I’ll never forgive myself if she’s not okay.”
Rowen freezes—my panic hitting him full-force through our bond. And then he’s gone.
Forest holds a hand out to me, pulling me to my feet. I sway a little, and he wraps an arm around me, surprising me with a hug.
“Are you okay?”
No. Not even a little. “How is he doing this?” The words scrape out of me.
“I don’t know,” Forest says. That scares me more than anything.
I turn around. Rowen kneels beside his sister. The wolf shifts to a human, then back. Next to her, Taren does the same, her muscles twitching. The magic in a shift heals the wounds, but even after two times, Ivy is still weak and clearly confused.
I walk to the porch, gripping the railing. Finally, Ivy gets to her feet, head hanging low as she hobbles toward the house, Taren and Jasmine on either side. She has deep cuts down her muzzle and one is dangerously close to her eye.
“Get her to the medic room,” Forest says. “Red, check her out.”
“Already on it.”
Rowen stops in front of me, jaw clenching. “What is going on?”
My hands shake as I tell them. “I heard…” I pause, already knowing how this is going to sound. Will they believe me, or will they think it’s the half-blood? “I heard Rip. In my—in my head.”
Rowen flinches, eyes narrowing.
“It’s not the half-blood thing, Rowen. I swear it isn’t. It’s him! I heard him!”
Sage steps in beside me. “Just tell us what happened.”
“The raven was Rip!” God, how many times do I need to say it? “He was here. Watching us!” I nearly punch Rowen in the face as I throw a hand up to show them the bracelet. “I felt it. He asked me to come out, but I refused, and it made him angry, so he—he attacked Ivy.”
Sage exchanges a look with his alpha, head shaking in anger. “Fucking vamp. He was copying someone.”
Forest frowns. “What?”
“Rip is a mimic, remember? He can copy gifts of vamps he touches. Whoever that other raven is must be a vamp who can still shift.”
“But who’s the other vampire?”
“Fuck if I know. Probably another one of Foxx’s psychotic creations. The asshole is obsessed with turning shifters.”
Forest’s expression is wary, a mix of apprehension and anger. “How long has he been talking to you?”
My breath leaves me, and I sag forward, bracing myself on my knees. “I don’t know,” I admit honestly. “I’ve heard whispers for a couple of weeks, but… nothing like this. This was… God, Forest, if I’d known he was going to do that—”
The alpha doesn’t reply, turning to walk back into the house. Rowen reaches for me, but I turn away. How can he stand me after this? It’s my fault his sister is hurt.
Next time, she dies.
Tears pour down my cheeks. Gods. Ivy.
What am I going to do?