Chapter 5
ROZI
We crested the winding mountain road in silence, the tension between us thicker than the evening mist. My breath caught as Black Forest Ridge revealed itself below, a glittering constellation of warm lights nestled in the valley like a secret the mountains had kept for centuries.
Moonlight danced across the surface of a lake that encircled the town like a protective silver moat, its waters black as obsidian where shadows fell.
I pressed my fingers against the cool glass of the window, my mind struggling to reconcile the impossible ecosystem before me, a thriving town that shouldn’t exist in a climate that defied logic, harboring creatures most humans believed were myths.
As we descended the switchbacks, each turn stripped away another layer of the modern world until reality itself seemed to bend and reshape around us.
My cheetah stirred beneath my skin, recognizing something primal in the energy from the valley below.
This place was alive in ways science couldn’t measure.
“We call this Main Square,” Brody explained. “There’s only one street that runs straight through it.”
“It doesn’t look like time has touched it.” There were no streetlights, and the tree-lined street had a host of shops with rustic brick exteriors, their facades reminiscent of illustrations from storybooks I’d treasured as a child, whimsical and inviting despite my apprehension.
“That’s deliberate,” he replied. “The town’s citizens voted to eliminate traffic lights and hide any hints of modern technology.
But that doesn’t mean the folks here don’t have cell phones and laptops.
” His voice softened with unmistakable pride.
“It’s one of the few places left where crime barely exists, neighbors still trust one another implicitly, and community potlucks happen every month.
The Ridge preserves what the human world has forgotten. ”
He gestured toward a woman sitting outside on a bench, typing on a laptop while a child played nearby without supervision.
“That’s the Ridge paradox. We’ve created something uniquely safe and friendly, where Others can actually live in the moment.
We have Wi-Fi when necessary and wilderness when it’s not.
The quirks of this place grow on you.” The warmth in his voice suggested this wasn’t just his home; it was part of his identity.
Black Forest Ridge was one of the few sanctuaries where Others could live without constantly hiding their true nature.
While the average human remained blissfully unaware of Others’ existence, a few select government agencies like the OIA worked to maintain that secrecy while providing necessary support and protection.
For centuries, Others had created their own hidden communities, places where a shifter could transform without fear of discovery and witches could practice their craft freely among their own kind.
“It’s charming,” I said while rolling down my window, allowing the warm air to brush against my face.
As we drove slowly down Main Street, I noticed something my mind had almost missed, smiling residents pausing their evening walks to exchange warm greetings beneath old shade trees, their conversations unhurried in a way that seemed alien to my work life of deadlines and lab schedules.
The tree-lined street was home to multiple shops, including Panthera Onca Fine Art Gallery, Bessie’s Coffee Shop, a posh-looking boutique named Rebellious Rose, a brightly painted storefront with a hanging Nyx’s Yoga Studio sign, an herbal apothecary with a hand-painted window that promised Herbs, Oils, Teas, Tinctures, and a whole block dedicated to a warehouse storefront named Sinner + Do Smokehouse.
We drove past a few more businesses, including a tattoo parlor, diner, and several bars. The sidewalks were crammed with smiling pedestrians.
Despite my skepticism, I could see the appeal of this place, its authentic small-town atmosphere where neighbors clearly supported one another, where the simple act of helping someone move furniture or bringing soup during an illness wasn’t charity but community expectation.
Even as an outsider, I could sense how easily one might find belonging here despite the current hostility I faced.
“We’re going to head to town hall,” he said.
“No problem.” I was ready to give a presentation I’d given many times.
He parked in front of a large building. A crowd of Others swarmed the area.
Brody got out and opened my door. I grabbed my backpack and stepped out when a tall, imposing, handsome man with midnight-black hair walked up to me. “Nice to finally meet you, Rozi. I’m Quinn.” His mouth curved in a half smile that transformed his stern features.
“Hi, Quinn,” I replied, glancing around. “It’s packed out here.”
“And inside. Standing room only,” Quinn replied.
The crowd around the town hall entrance suddenly shifted, parting to reveal a new group approaching from the side street. Their faces were hard, unwelcoming. Some carried handmade signs with slogans like No Dhahabu Experiments and Protect Our Males.
At their center walked a stocky man with the distinctive yellow eyes of a honey badger–shifter. He stared directly at me with such naked hatred it took my breath away.
“Shane,” Brody growled, his body instantly shifting from casual to combat-ready, stepping slightly in front of me. “What is this?”
“A welcoming committee,” Shane replied, his voice carrying to the now-silent crowd. “We thought Dr. Dhahabu should know exactly how many of us oppose her… experiments.”
The crowd behind him moved with eerie synchronization, forming a half circle that blocked the entrance to the town hall. I’d faced hostile pharmaceutical boards and academic rivals, but never this, a mob with primal, supernatural strength and clear intent in their eyes.
“I thought you said this was just a town hall meeting,” I whispered to Quinn, unable to look away from those hostile faces.
“It was supposed to be,” Quinn replied, his alpha presence expanding as he stepped forward. “Shane, we agreed to a civil discussion inside.”
“Plans change.” Shane shrugged, a cold smile spreading across his face. “We thought a more direct approach might be necessary.”
“Stay close to me,” Brody murmured, his voice dropping to a dangerous rumble as his body tensed beside mine. His eyes flashed gold for a split second before he controlled it.
“I don’t need your protection,” I hissed.
His gaze locked with mine, gold bleeding into gray as his wolf pushed forward in response to the threat. “Then stay beside me,” he said, his voice leaving no room for argument. “Because if anything happens to you, I won’t be responsible for what I do.”
The raw possessiveness in his tone sent a shiver down my spine that had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with something I’d spent a lot of time denying.
Someone jostled me from behind, the crowd pressing in with supernatural strength that would have knocked a human off their feet.
Before I could regain my balance, Brody’s hand was at my waist, steadying me with a grip that was both gentle and uncompromising.
Heat bloomed instantly where his fingers pressed through the thin fabric of my blouse, each point of contact a spark of electricity that raced across my skin.
His scent enveloped me as he pulled me against his chest, creating a buffer between me and the jostling crowd. My treacherous body responded instantly, my heartbeat accelerating to match his, my skin feeling hot with a sensation that had nothing to do with the press of bodies around us.
“Easy,” he murmured, his breath warm against my ear.
For one dizzying moment, I was conscious of the solid wall of his chest against my back, the way our bodies fit together with devastating perfection, the steady rhythm of his breathing that my own lungs instinctively matched.
The mate bond hummed between us, invisible threads pulling tighter with every second of contact, erasing years of distance in an instant.
Yet even as our bodies recognized each other, my mind erected steel walls reinforced by the memory of watching him walk away without a backward glance. The physical intimacy only highlighted the emotional chasm between us, a gulf so wide it might as well have been an ocean.
“Don’t,” I hissed, jerking away from his touch even as my skin mourned the loss of contact. “I don’t need your protection.”
His expression shuttered, eyes going from concerned to distant in the space of a heartbeat. The muscle in his jaw ticked once, the only visible sign that my rejection had affected him at all.
“Fuck this,” he muttered, turning on his heel and stalking away through the crowd, which parted instinctively before his barely contained aggression.
Quinn arched a brow. “Is everything okay between you two?”
“It’s nothing,” I said. “Now tell me anything I need to know before my presentation.”
Quinn’s expression darkened slightly. “The town council is here. Each are highly respected leaders of their kind. Technically figureheads. I have the final say as town alpha, but their approval would make your work here easier.”
“And their disapproval?”
“Could make it hell,” he said bluntly.
I nodded, mentally cataloging the politics. “The town council sounds formidable.”
“The wolf-shifter brothers Wilder and Hugo never even show up for meetings,” Quinn said with a dismissive wave.
“And the others?” I prompted, mentally preparing myself for the local politics I’d need to navigate.
Quinn tapped his fingers against his thigh as he cataloged the power players, each gesture precise and controlled as befitting an alpha wolf.
“Bonnie leads the jaguars,” he said, his voice dropping as a woman with feline grace passed by, her eyes flicking toward us with predatory assessment before she nodded to Quinn and continued on.