Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
Baylin swore as a spike-covered vine wrapped around his arm.
In his excitement at finally reaching his destination, he’d been careless enough to miss the treacherous vine.
He quickly severed the vine, then winced as he carefully pulled it free.
The gash was deeper than he expected, bleeding sluggishly in the humid air.
His Vultor healing abilities would handle the wound, but he suspected it would add to his already extensive collection of scars.
No matter. He shrugged and returned to his journey, keeping a closer eye on his surroundings this time. A few meters later he pushed through a tangle of undergrowth, and the jungle abruptly gave way. He took two steps into the clearing and came to a dead stop.
The tower rose before him like something out of the old stories—ancient stone the color of weathered bone, climbing seven stories into the sky.
It emerged from the cliff face as if it had grown there, the same rock continuing seamlessly from natural formation to deliberate construction.
A pair of massive wooden doors, half-overgrown with vines, stood recessed into the stone at the base.
To the left, a small window was covered in a thick layer of grime.
There were no other windows on the ground floor, but several tall windows ringed the upper floors and there was a small balcony about half way up.
At the very top, what appeared to be a tiled roof caught the morning sun.
He’d found it. After countless nights of questioning whether he’d lost his mind, chasing a ghost from a centuries-old book, here it was, solid and real and impossible.
He allowed himself a single moment of satisfaction before his tactical mind reasserted itself.
He circled the clearing’s edge, staying close to the tree line as he assessed the structure.
The tower was roughly fifteen meters in diameter at the base, with a small one-story extension to the side.
The stone showed no obvious signs of decay despite its apparent age.
Vegetation had been cleared in a perfect semi-circle around it, the grass cropped short and the soil packed hard.
The structure appeared lifeless, but when he pulled his scanner from his pack, he could read the power signatures emanated from inside the structure, strong and steady.
He remembered when Ember had found the reference—a single entry in an old journal belonging to her father.
Her curiosity had driven her to investigate further and she’d discovered that the tower had been receiving twice yearly supply deliveries for twenty-two years.
The impact on the vast Duvain business empire was negligible, but the question of why it existed at all, and why her father had hidden it, had troubled her.
They’d traced the coordinates to this region, a section of the planet so remote and overgrown that even the most detailed surveys showed nothing but uninterrupted jungle.
No one had noticed because no one had been looking.
He’d immediately offered to investigate.
Technically, the investigation fell within his duties as part of her security team, and besides—he’d needed to get away.
The routine of protection and patrol had been wearing grooves into his mind that felt too much like the ones he’d tried to escape when he left his pack.
Rykan, Ember’s mate and Baylin’s former pack leader, hadn’t objected at the time, but he’d pulled him aside afterwards.
“Are you sure you want to do this? I know you didn’t promise to stay forever, but after six years apart, I thought it would be longer than a few months.”
“I’ll be back,” he promised. “It’s just... hard to stay in one place now.”
Ever since he’d finally given up on the chaotic remains of the pack Rykan should have led, he’d been unable to settle.
A tangled mixture of guilt and restlessness had driven him from one place to another.
His time with Rykan and Ember had been the closest he’d come to finding peace, but it wasn’t enough.
“I’ll go and investigate, then come back and tell you what I find,” he promised.
His friend’s eyes had searched his face, then he nodded. “Fine, but be careful. There’s something strange about this whole thing.”
The jungle had been a relief, in its way.
Every obstacle had required his full attention.
Every night had brought new sounds, new scents, new threats to evaluate and neutralize.
He’d been too busy surviving to think about the guilt that sat like a stone in his chest, the knowledge that he’d abandoned the people who’d depended on him.
Rykan had asked him to stay and watch over their pack and protect them from Lysara’s machinations. And he had, for years, until the female who should have been Rykan’s mate had spread poison so deep that staying meant becoming part of it.
He’d told himself he was doing the right thing. He’d told himself that some battles couldn’t be won from the inside.
He’d told himself a lot of things.
He shook off thoughts of the past and focused on the task at hand. The tower. The mystery. Something concrete he could solve instead of the endless knots of his own conscience.
There was a strangeness here, a feeling of being watched that made his beast stir uneasily. He was used to his instincts warning him of danger, but this was something else—a sense that the tower itself was aware of his presence.
His scanner picked up additional readings as he drew closer. Sensors embedded in the perimeter, motion detectors, what looked like a sophisticated defense grid woven through the walls. Whoever had built this place hadn’t wanted uninvited guests.
“Let’s see what you’re hiding,” he muttered.
He tried the doors. Locked. Unsurprising. He pressed his hands against the doors, searching for a pressure plate or biometric scanner. Nothing. He ran his fingers along the seams, looking for a manual release. Nothing. The doors remained stubbornly closed.
He approached the smaller building attached to the base. The door to this one was made of metal, and it was also locked. He put his shoulder to it, and the metal groaned but held.
He stepped back, considering his options. He could force entry—the tools in his pack were designed for exactly this kind of situation—but something made him hesitate. Forcing his way in might trigger defenses he couldn’t predict.
Before he could decide, a new scent caught his attention, a light floral scent completely different from the heavy perfume of the jungle flowers. His nostrils flared as his beast snapped to attention, demanding that he investigate the intriguing scent.
He stepped away from the door, his gaze traveling up the tower’s face, searching for the source of the scent and saw her.
A delicate face framed by long, light-colored hair that glowed like golden fire in the morning sunlight, was peering down at him from the balcony. Female. Young. Human. Beautiful.
He immediately pushed that thought away. Now was not the time for distraction.
“Don’t be afraid,” he called, pitching his voice to carry without aggression. “I mean you no harm.”
She didn’t retreat, but neither did she respond. He could see her more clearly now—small features, skin that had never seen harsh sun, and a fragile quality that made something in his chest tighten unexpectedly.
How long had she been here? The supply deliveries had been going on for years. Had she been here all that time? Was she alone?
“My name is Baylin.” He spread his hands, showing them empty. “I’ve traveled a long way to find this place. I only want to talk to you.”
Still no response. Was she mute? Or simply cautious?
He couldn’t blame her if she was wary of strangers.
But she was watching him with an intensity that prickled along his skin, as if she was trying to memorize every detail of his appearance.
He supposed he must look alarming—travel-worn and jungle-stained, his dark hair pulled back in a rough tail, the scar on his face livid in the harsh light, and fresh blood on his arm.
He forced his posture to soften, his expression to gentle. The last thing he wanted was to frighten her.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he repeated, keeping his voice gentle.
For a long moment, she simply watched him, her expression impossible to read from this distance. Then she disappeared from the balcony.
He waited, expecting her to return with questions or warnings. Instead, there was nothing but silence.
Fuck.
He’d scared her off. Not surprising, given the circumstances.
A strange male appearing from the jungle would be frightening enough without the added complication of being trapped in this isolated place.
He needed to establish communication, but that would be difficult now that the one person he’d seen had retreated into hiding.
His gaze traveled up the tower face again, assessing the stone wall. It wasn’t as smooth as it appeared at first glance. With the help of his claws, it would be easy enough to climb. It wasn’t the most dignified approach, but it seemed like the best alternative.
The first few meters were easy enough. The stone provided decent purchase, and the muscles in his arms and legs responded eagerly to the challenge.
His beast enjoyed the physical exertion, the focus required to navigate the unfamiliar surface.
As he climbed higher, he could hear the whisper of leaves in the breeze, the distant calls of jungle creatures, and the rhythmic sound of his own breathing.
He was perhaps halfway up when he noticed her watching him from the balcony. She’d returned, her expression no longer frightened but openly curious, her eyes very wide and very blue. He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile and continued climbing.
A few minutes later, he hauled himself over the balcony railing and dropped lightly to his feet.
Up close, she was even smaller than he’d realized—the top of her head barely reached his chest. Her delicate features were dominated by those huge blue eyes that seemed to take in everything at once.
Her hair was the color of honey in sunlight, cascading over her shoulders and down her back in an untamed wave.
“Hello,” he said softly, careful not to move too quickly. “I’m Baylin. What’s your name?”