Chapter 17 - Caleb
I’m running blind, everything around me reduced to sounds, a scent, a flicker in the air, and all I can think is: I’m about to lose them both.
My daughter, my baby daughter, and the only woman I’ve ever felt something for, even if she doesn’t know it, and maybe it’s worse that she doesn’t even know.
At my side, Nick’s wolf tries to shift, and he holds it just under the skin, barely keeping it together, and the other guys are breathing hard, the whole pack ready to fight.
The trail is cold. Dina’s scent, Alora’s, good as it is, ends in a churned patch of mud and then dissolves into pure nothing, as if someone took a black marker and just scrubbed them out of existence.
I slow, bracing one hand against a tree, trying to orient myself by will alone, but it’s useless.
There’s a blankness to the woods, a weird echo, like the air is pretending to be empty on purpose.
My wolf howls in my head, desperate to run, to find, to fix this, but with nothing to follow, the noise inside me is just empty noise.
Nick grunts and calls to Luna, who’s at the rear of the line, her aura turned blue-white and ragged with effort. “Can you see anything?” he asks, voice tight. A flicker of guilt stabs through me; this is my mess, my curse, and now everyone’s out here risking themselves for it.
Luna closes her eyes, and her hands shake.
I see the pulse of magic ripple across the ground, a vibration low enough that human ears would miss it, but for us, it resonates in our bones.
“There’s a spell here,” she says, breathless.
“This is a displacement, but I can’t see where.
” She opens her eyes, and there’s rage in them. “Whoever did this is good.”
Bryan throws a look at me. “Stay strong, they wouldn’t hurt a baby, would they?”
The question lands like a punch in my gut, but I grimace and force myself to shake my head. “They would, but if they wanted her dead right now, she’d be dead. This is about leverage.” I’m not sure if I’m talking to them or myself.
Nick squares up, radiating calm, all Alpha. “Can you break it?” he asks Luna.
She sighs, turning a full circle as she appears to scent the air before turning back to face us. “Yes, but not quickly. This is familiar dark magic, but also different, fresher. It will take time.”
The pit in my stomach grows with her words. Whatever I said to Bryan, I know damn well they’d hurt a baby to get what they want; they’d do anything. Even proximity to the dark magic could hurt her because she’s so young.
I want to tear the trees up from the roots, rip the world open; the magic is like a glass wall that I keep slamming into.
We fan out, north and east, Bryan and Thomas taking one trail with Connor, Nick, Luna, James, Dylan, and me staying on the trail heading upward, all of us on comms but barely bothering to use them; we’re close enough that if someone found anything, the pack bond will tell us before the tech.
The woods are bathed in a sickly winter gold, every shadow stretching, every patch of ground a potential grave.
My mind keeps looping back on the mental image of Dina cold and afraid, Alora screaming for me, the old Cheslem doctrine of “take what you want, destroy everything else.”
Nick is muttering to James, low and furious, about how the fuck they got this close, how the border was supposed to be locked, and how this is on them, not me.
I know it’s a sign of his frustration; he’s an excellent alpha who takes these things personally, but it only reminds me that this trail was one of the ones that Dina highlighted as being vulnerable, and that only makes me feel worse.
I try to tune them out, focusing on the next fifty feet, then the next, cataloging each scent, each sound, each inconsistency in the air.
I can almost see the shape of the spell, it’s like a curtain, a fold in space, the way the wind doesn’t move right in certain spots, and how the birds don’t go anywhere near certain areas.
Then, out of nowhere, the trail glitches, exposing the fact that we’re not really on the right trail at all. The real trail is way off to the right.
It doesn’t even make sense, not to a normal brain, but my wolf sees it for what it is; it’s a seam, a place where the magic flickers, as if the world itself is buffering.
For a split second, the real trail is visible, a line of muddy footprints and a sharp left turn I’d have missed a thousand times over if not for the way it tears at the edge of reality.
I shout, and the others converge, senses sharpening.
Luna is there in an instant, eyes wild. “It’s breaking down,” she says, voice sure and steady.
She doesn’t miss a beat. She just throws out her hands, palms up, and I see the magic roll out like a wave, catching the seam and forcing it wider.
The trees ahead blur, the entire world stutters, and for a moment I see double; there’s the path we thought we were on, and the true one, the one with the fresh truck tracks and some buildings in the distance.
The illusion snaps, reality slamming back into place, and it’s like a dam breaking.
The air gets brighter, the scents sharpen so close I almost collapse from the force of it.
We’re through. The spell is dying, unraveling in distortions that shimmer and then vanish. Luna staggers, catching herself on a low branch, but she grins at me, wild and triumphant. I want to hug her, or thank her, but she shakes her head, “It was already failing, I just helped it on its way.”
The others are already moving, Nick in the lead, his voice snapping over the comms telling all teams to “Go. Go now.”
The new trail is familiar, and it’s hard to explain why we didn’t immediately see that it was all wrong; that’s the power of dark magic, it corrupts reality.
The trail head is a straight shot down the gully, then up a slope, where the old logging road is well-worn.
My skin crawls. There are trucks in the distance clustered around the old cabins.
There’s a generator running somewhere, a faint hum, and a cord of smoke from one of the structures.
These cabins have long been abandoned since logging moved to the new, modern site on the other side of the ridge.
We freeze for a half-second, scanning, and then Nick signals: split, surround, and close in.
Luna stays back with Connor, ready to break any wards and meet with the other team that is closing in.
Dylan and I take the right, while Nick, Connor, and Bryan circle left.
There’s a second, smaller building behind the main cabin, and I have to fight every muscle in my body not to just sprint for it.
Instead, I move slowly, carefully, letting my wolf take the lead, every sound and scent amplified.
I pick up Dina’s scent, strong and recent, and my heart nearly gives out with relief, especially when I pick up Alora’s too.
My world narrows to the only thing that matters.
Finding them. I duck past an old shed, flatten to the wall, and motion for Dylan to cover me.
He’s already crouched, ready to go at the first sign, and in the clearing ahead, I see movement, three, maybe four shadows, two on foot, one pacing the porch, and another inside the main cabin.
None look familiar, but I can smell the Cheslem rot on them from here.
I freeze, nostrils flaring, because on the far side of the clearing, out of sight of the guards, someone is moving.
I almost miss it, the flicker of a figure behind the smallest cabin, a woman holding something to her chest, crouched low.
My heart stops, then double-times. It’s Dina.
She’s got Alora slung across her chest, one hand pressing the baby’s head down, the other doing something to the ground at the back corner of the building.
She’s smart. She’s not trying to run, knowing they’d see her. She’s dismantling the wards. I turn and hiss to Dylan, “She’s breaking the wards herself.” My voice is filled with awe and fear. “It’s her. She’s the reason the spell glitched.”
Dylan’s jaw drops. For a second, even his wolf quiets. “No fucking way,” he murmurs, and the admiration in his voice makes me feel even more proud of her.
She’s risking everything, carrying my daughter and still fighting to get us an opening.
My brain shorts out, a weird mix of bone-deep love and something close to terror, because if she’s caught, they’ll kill her, and she can’t fight properly holding Alora.
I want to scream, to tear the place apart, but I know if I lose it now, I’ll get them both killed.
I make the call. “She needs a distraction.” I don’t wait for Dylan to answer; he’s already on it, hurling a rock through the side window of the main cabin and then vanishing into the brush, drawing every rogue into the clearing.
The porch guard goes after him, yelling, and the other two break from their posts, one bolting for the side yard, the other shouting threats into the radio.
It’s a mess, pure chaos, and it’s just what Dina needs.
I run. Not at the guards, not at the enemy, not toward revenge, but straight for that corner cabin and the girl with my baby in her arms. Violence and dark magic are carried in the air, the wards humming in my ears, and as I close the distance, I see Dina’s face.
She’s wild, hair loose, a cut to the side of her face, but her eyes are clear.
She sees me the moment I break the treeline, and there’s no fear in her face.
Just determination and certainty. Just Dina.
She knew I was coming for them.
She’s got a rock in her hand, using it to pound at the base of a ward post, and as I get close, I see she’s already snapped the top and peeled off the spell thread.
She’s breaking another of the wards. Alora is silent, pressed so tight to Dina’s chest that I have to touch her to make sure she’s real and safe.
I’m so focused on them that I barely have time to register the shape barreling in from the left, but my wolf reacts on instinct, skin splitting, hands to claws.
The rogue, taller than me, lean and crazed with the darkness rolling off him, aims straight for Dina and Alora, as if nothing else in the world is worth his life.
I throw myself between them, my body a shield, and catch him mid-leap, the impact sending us both flying.
He’s fast, but I’m faster. I twist, grab his throat, and squeeze until something gives with a sickening pop.
He claws at my face, and I let him, the pain a distant irrelevance.
All I care about is keeping him from the woman behind me.
Blood wells under my grip, but I don’t let go until he becomes a dead weight.
I hurl his body away, and it lands with a thud beside the cabin.
The smell of his blood mixed with the magic is a stench that reminds me of my old life, and I nearly retch from the memory of it.
I turn, expecting Dina to be frozen, to be in shock, but she’s already got her hands on Alora’s head, shielding her eyes, whispering calm into her ear.
The baby’s face is blotchy-red and wet, but her cry is strong and, most importantly, alive.
Dina looks up at me, and for the first time since all this started, she doesn’t look at me like I’m the enemy.
She looks relieved, and the relief is so raw it nearly knocks the breath from my lungs.
Nick and the others crash into the clearing a second later, the fight already heavily in our favor.
James and Bryan are in full shift, tearing into the last of the porch guards, and the air is thick with the smell of blood and adrenaline.
Luna stands by the tree line, eyes on me, face pale but resolved.
She nods once, and I know she’s got our backs.
More screams ring out in the distance, then go silent.
I pull Dina and Alora behind the cabin, out of sight of the carnage, but with Dylan watching our backs.
My hands are shaking, but I reach for them anyway, and Dina lets herself fall into my arms like she’s been waiting her whole life.
I hold her, and I hold Alora, and the three of us just breathe for a second, the world shrinking to this patch of dirt and sunlight and blood.
Alora whimpers, then burrows her face into my chest, and I kiss the top of her head, over and over, not caring who sees that my heart is cracked wide open.
Dina sags against me, boneless, and I realize she’s done. She’s spent every last ounce of fight, and all that’s left is the shaking. She tries to stand, to explain, “I broke the wards, I thought if I could disrupt the circuit, maybe you’d see us, maybe…” but I hush her with a hand on her cheek.
“You did it,” I say, and my voice is thick with pride. “You saved her. You saved both of you.”
She laughs, with tears falling, and we simply stand there, lost for words. I try to summon one of my flippant jokes, anything to soften the weight of the moment, but nothing comes, and so I sink into the moment too, my eyes wet with all the enormity of all things I’m struggling to say.