Chapter 7 #2
"Devastating," Torin finishes. "My grandfather performed a sealing ritual. It required his life, and the lives of six other elders. They bound whatever was trying to emerge back into the deep places, locked it away with blood and sacrifice and oaths meant to hold for centuries."
"But the seals are breaking," Declan says. "We've been tracking the signs for months. The whales behaving strangely. The tides running wrong. Old magic stirring in places it shouldn't."
"And now someone's actively working to accelerate it," Jax adds. "The murders—because we think there have been others, not just your aunt—are feeding power into the summoning. Every death at a sacred site weakens that seal."
I force myself to think past the grief, to engage my investigative training, to find patterns in chaos. "How many deaths? How many sites?"
"We know of three for certain," says Callum. "Your aunt was the most recent. Before that, a fisherman named Duncan Ross, found dead on the rocks near the western cove. And before that, a woman named Emma MacLeod, drowned in the tidal pools by Selkie’s Cove."
"All within the last six months," Brennan adds. "All ruled natural causes or accidents. All at locations we've identified as convergence points."
"How many convergence points are there total?" My pen is moving again, taking notes, creating the framework for an investigation even though I know I can never publish it.
"Seven that we know of," Torin says. "Three have been used. Four remain."
Four more people need to die before this thing breaks free. "So we have months? Weeks?"
"We don't know the timeline. Could be months. Could be weeks." Torin’s eyes meet mine. "Could be days, depending on how desperate the summoner becomes."
"And my presence here?" I ask, though I'm afraid of the answer. "How does that factor in?"
The men exchange looks. Declan answers.
"You're Maureen's heir. You inherited Clifftop House, which sits on one of the most powerful convergence points in the region. You carry her bloodline. And...” He stops, jaw clenched.
"And the mate bond ties you to the pack now," Eamon finishes gently. "Which means you're caught between worlds just like she was. Watcher potential, we call it. Some humans have it, most don't. Your aunt did. And we think you do too."
"That makes you valuable," Jax says bluntly.
"To us, because you could help protect the borders like your aunt did.
But also to whoever's doing the summoning, because your blood would be even more potent than hers was.
You're second generation watcher bloodline, tied to the pack through the mate bond, living on a convergence point.
You're basically a magical battery waiting to be tapped. "
The cold logic of it sinks in. "So I'm bait."
"You're protected," Declan counters immediately. "There's a difference."
"Is there?" I look around at the five dangerous men surrounding me. "Because from where I'm sitting, it sounds like I'm a target with a security detail."
"Yes," Callum says. "That's exactly what you are. But it's better than being a target without one."
Part of me wants to demand they take me to the ferry right now. Get me back to London, back to my normal life. But my aunt is dead. Murdered in some sick ritual to wake something that took the deaths of seven shifter elders to bind.
And I'm a journalist. Finding the truth is what I do.
"I want to help." The words come out steady, certain. "I want to find whoever did this and make sure they pay for it."
"Eliza...” Declan starts.
"No." I cut him off, standing up. "My aunt lived here for more than forty years protecting people. Protecting all of you. She died doing it. The least I can do is finish what she started."
Jax snorts. "Brave. Stupid, but brave."
"I prefer thorough," I counter. "I need access to everything you have on the deaths, the convergence points, the old rituals that kept the seals intact.
I need to talk to anyone who knew my aunt, especially in the last few months before she died.
And I need you to teach me what I need to know to survive in this world. "
"You're serious about this," Brennan says, studying me.
"Deadly serious."
The pack looks to Declan. He's their alpha. His decision is final.
He's quiet for a long moment, those wolf-gold eyes searching my face. Finally, he nods.
"We teach her. We protect her. And we use every advantage we have—including her investigative skills—to find the bastard behind this before four more people die."
"And if we can't?" Jax asks. "If this thing breaks free anyway?"
Torin's expression is grim. "Then we do what my grandfather did. We find seven people willing to die to lock it away again and hope it's enough."
Seven lives. Seven sacrifices. And no guarantee it would even work.
"There has to be another way," I say.
"There might be,” says Torin, looking at me with those otherworldly eyes. "Your aunt was researching something in the months before she died. She found references to an alternative ritual, one that didn't require death. She was trying to piece together the ritual from fragmentary sources."
Hope flares in my chest. "Did she finish?"
"We don't know. Her research notes disappeared after her death. We searched Clifftop House but found nothing."
"I’ve found her journals, but they don’t seem to be complete.
There could be other notes. We’ll need to search again.
" I'm already mentally cataloging hiding places, thinking about how my aunt's mind worked, where she might have concealed something important.
"She wouldn't have kept it somewhere obvious.
But she would have kept it somewhere I could find it, if anything happened to her. "
"Why you?" Connor asks.
"Because I'm her heir. Because she knew I'd come here eventually, and she'd want me to have the tools to finish her work."
Eamon smiles. "Your aunt chose well."
The acceptance in his voice, grudging though it is, means more than I expected.
"So we have a plan," Declan says. "Eliza searches Clifftop House for her aunt's research.
" He points to each of them in turn. "Brennan and Callum investigate the previous deaths, look for patterns.
Torin continues tracking the magical disturbances.
Jax coordinates security, makes sure we're not leaving ourselves vulnerable.
Eamon reaches out to the other packs, the clans, see if anyone else has noticed unusual activity. "
"And you?" Jax asks.
"I stay with Eliza." Declan's tone brooks no argument. "She's my mate. My responsibility. I'm not letting her out of my sight until this is over."
I should probably object to being treated like I need a bodyguard. But given that I apparently have a target painted on my back for dark ritual sacrifice, I'll take the protection.
"One more thing," I say as they start to disperse. "If I'm going to be part of this, I need you to promise me something."
They pause, waiting.
"If this goes wrong—if whoever's doing this comes for me—you don't make deals to save me. You don't give up what my aunt died protecting. My life isn't worth more than stopping this thing."
"No." Declan's voice is absolute. "That's not happening."
"Declan...”
"No. We’ve already lost too much to this thing. I'm not losing you too." He steps close, cups my face in his hands. "You want to help? Fine. You want to investigate? I'll support that. But you will not sacrifice yourself. That's not negotiable."
The intensity in his eyes, the raw need, steals my breath. This isn't just the mate bond talking. This is a man who's carried the weight of his pack's safety for too long, who knows the cost of the old magic, who's terrified of losing one more person to the darkness.
"Okay," I whisper. "No unnecessary heroics. I promise."
He kisses my forehead, gentle despite the ferocity I can feel thrumming through him. "Good. Because I just found you. I'm not ready to let you go."
The men melt away, leaving us alone among the standing stones. Declan pulls me close, and I let myself lean into his warmth, his strength.
"This is insane," I murmur against his chest.
"Welcome to my world."
"Our world," I correct. "I'm part of it now, apparently."
"Are you okay with that?"
I think about my aunt, about the life she led walking between worlds. About the courage it took to document the truth, to protect people from shadows they didn't know existed. About the fact that she died doing it, and someone out there thinks they can use her death to wake something terrible.
"No," I say honestly. "I'm not okay. I'm terrified, grieving, completely in over my head. But I'm also not running. So I guess we'll see where that gets me."
"It'll get you exactly where you need to be." Declan tilts my chin up, meets my eyes. "Your aunt knew what she was doing when she left you Clifftop House. She was preparing for this, even if she didn't know when or how it would happen."
"You really think so?"
"I know so." He brushes a strand of auburn hair from my face. "Watchers aren't born, Eliza. They're called. And you just answered."
We walk back to his truck hand in hand. Stormhaven looks peaceful below. Idyllic. Like a postcard of coastal perfection.
But I know better now. I know what lurks beneath the surface. And I know that somewhere in my aunt's house, hidden in a place only I can find, are the answers we need to stop it.
I just hope we find them before four more people die.
As we drive away from the stone circle, I catch movement in my peripheral vision. A figure standing at the edge of the cliffs, watching us. Too far to make out details, but the way they hold themselves sets off alarms in my head.
"Declan," I say quietly. "We're being watched."
His eyes flick to the rearview mirror. His jaw tightens. "I know. I can smell them."
"Should we...”
"No. Let them watch. Let them see that you're under pack protection now." His hand finds mine, squeezes. "But from now on, you don't go anywhere alone. Understood?"
I nod, watching the figure until they disappear from view.
"Who was that?"
"I don't know yet." Declan's voice is tight. "But I will. And when I find them, they're going to answer for what they did to your aunt."
I settle back in my seat, my hand still in his. The figure is gone, but the threat remains. And now I have a pack at my back and a mate who won't let me face this alone.
Let them watch. Let them wonder what I know. Because I'm going to find my aunt's research, and I'm going to finish what she started.