Chapter 9
ELIZA
Tessa MacRae is not what I expected.
She strides through the door Declan opens with the confidence of someone who belongs everywhere she goes.
Tall—maybe five-ten—with dark hair pulled back in a practical braid and storm-grey eyes that match her brother's.
She's wearing tactical pants, boots that have seen serious use, and a leather jacket that's been patched in multiple places.
There's a crossbow slung across her back.
A crossbow. On a shifter. The irony isn't lost on me.
Her gaze goes straight to the claiming mark on my throat, and something dangerous flashes across her face. Declan tenses beside me, his protective instincts flaring along our connection.
"You claimed her." Her voice is flat. "Without consulting the pack. Without preparation. Without...”
"Without asking permission," Declan finishes, his tone carrying an edge of command that makes me suddenly aware of exactly how much power he holds as alpha. "Because I don't need permission to claim my mate."
Tessa's jaw works. She tears her gaze from my throat to meet her brother's stare. "Jax is losing his mind. Half the pack thinks you've compromised us. The other half is taking bets on how long before she runs screaming back to London."
"I'm not going anywhere." The words come out before I can stop them, sharper than I intend. "And I'm standing right here, so maybe you could address me directly instead of talking around me like I'm furniture."
Tessa's attention snaps to mine, and I see surprise flicker across her features.
Then something that might be respect. "You've got spine.
Good. You're going to need it." She moves further into the room, her movements predator-smooth.
"I'm Tessa. Declan's sister, pack hunter, and currently the person trying to keep five dozen wolves from panicking because their alpha just bound himself to a human journalist."
"Former journalist," I correct. "At least for now. And it's nice to meet you, even if the circumstances are..." I gesture vaguely at the tension crackling through the room.
"Complicated?" Tessa supplies. "That's one word for it.
" She drops into a chair with the kind of exhausted grace that suggests she's been fending off the pack.
"The pack knows. Word spread fast—someone felt the bond snap into place.
Now everyone's demanding answers, and Jax is calling an emergency council meeting for tomorrow night. "
Declan's hand finds mine, fingers interlacing. His determination pulses along our connection, mixed with worry he's trying to hide. "Let them demand. Eliza is my mate. That makes her pack, and they'll accept it."
"Will they?" Tessa leans forward, elbows on her knees.
"Declan, I know you feel what you feel. The mate bond is absolute.
But from the pack's perspective, you've just given a human—someone who makes her living exposing secrets—access to everything.
They're scared. And scared wolves make bad decisions. "
"Then help me make them understand." Declan pulls me closer against his side. "Tell them what you told me. About the summoning. About why we need Eliza."
Tessa and Declan exchange a look, one of those silent sibling communications that speaks volumes. Finally, Tessa sighs. "You really claimed her without explaining any of this?"
"We gave her an overview, but I was a bit preoccupied with the whole 'mate bond driving me insane' thing," Declan mutters.
"Men." Tessa rolls her eyes, then focuses on me. "We need to show her. The study. The maps."
Declan nods and stands. "Jax and Finn are already there. Might as well brief her properly."
Declan's study is a war room.
Maps cover every available surface—the island, the coastline, detailed topographical surveys that show elevation and geological features.
Red pins mark three locations, and as I step closer, I recognize one immediately.
Clifftop House. My house now, I suppose, though that thought still feels surreal.
Two men wait inside. Jax looks up when we enter.
He's leaner than Declan but radiates the same predatory intensity.
His dark eyes track my every movement with the same open suspicion I remember from our first meeting.
The other man is something else entirely—copper hair shot through with silver, aquamarine eyes that seem to look through me rather than at me, and an otherworldly quality that raises goosebumps on my arms.
"Finn." Declan nods to the copper-haired man. "This is Eliza. My mate."
Finn's attention focuses on me, and I feel like I'm being assessed by something ancient and powerful. "The watcher's heir." His voice carries an accent I can't place—Irish maybe, but older. "Your bloodline runs deep, Eliza Warren. Deeper than you know."
"Everyone keeps saying things like that." I move to the central map, studying the red pins. "But nobody explains what it means."
"It means you're part of this whether you want to be or not.
" Jax still doesn’t sound happy about this.
"Your aunt spent more than forty years documenting our existence.
Now you're here, marked and mated, with access to everything she knew and more.
So the question is—are you going to help us, or are you going to be a liability we have to manage? "
Declan's anger spikes sharply enough that I feel it in my teeth.
"Jax...”
"No, he's right to ask." I meet Jax's hostile stare without flinching.
"I'm a journalist. My instinct is to investigate, to expose, to bring truth to light.
But I'm not an idiot. I've seen what Declan is.
I know what you all are. And I understand that exposing your existence would put innocent people at risk—shifter and human alike.
" I turn back to the map. "My aunt protected your secrets for more than forty years.
I can do the same. But I need to understand what I'm protecting them from. "
Silence fills the study. Then Finn speaks, his voice carrying a weight that makes the air feel heavier. "From something that should never wake. From something my grandfather died to lock away."
He moves to the map, his finger tracing a path between the three red pins. "Three deaths. Three convergence points. Three bloodlines sacrificed." His aquamarine gaze meets mine. "Your aunt was the third."
The confirmation hits me like a physical blow. "Someone murdered her. For a ritual."
"Yes." Finn's voice is gentle despite the horror he's confirming. "And they're not done."
Declan pulls out a folder, spreading additional maps across the desk.
"We've identified seven convergence points total around the island.
Places where the barriers between worlds are naturally thin.
Your aunt's research helped us confirm the locations.
" He points to the three red pins. "These three have been used. Four remain."
My mind immediately starts working the problem, organizing facts into patterns. "So four more people need to die to complete whatever this is."
"Four more people from specific bloodlines.
" Finn moves to the window, silhouetted against the grey sky.
"The original ritual, performed by my grandfather and six other elders seventy-five years ago, used blood from seven families to bind the entity.
To undo what was done and free the entity, the summoner needs to spill blood from those same seven families at the convergence points. "
I pull out my phone, opening the notes app. Old habit. "Names. I need the names of the original seven families."
Jax's expression hardens. "Why?"
"Because this is an investigation." I look up.
"Someone is systematically murdering people to perform a ritual.
That means there's a pattern. Patterns can be tracked, analyzed, predicted.
If we know who the targets are, we can protect them.
And if we know who benefits from this summoning, we can identify the summoner. "
Declan's pride warms the bond between us, though his worry doesn't fade.
Finn, however, smiles—a strange, knowing expression that suggests he's seeing something the others aren't. "The watcher's gift runs true in you. Very well. The seven families: MacLeod, Murray, Gordon, Sinclair, Campbell, Morrison, and Ross."
I write them down, my fingers flying across the screen. "And the three victims?"
"Duncan Ross, fisherman. Found dead on the rocks near the western cove six months ago." Declan points to the first red pin. "Official cause of death: fell during a storm. But the tides were wrong, the injuries inconsistent with a fall."
"Emma MacLeod." Tessa crosses her arms. "Schoolteacher. Drowned at the tidal pools by Selkie’s Cove four months ago. They said she went for an early morning swim and got caught in the current."
"And Maureen Gordon." Declan's hand finds mine again. "Your aunt. Three months ago. Heart attack on the cliffs, they said. But we know better."
I stare at the names, at the timeline. My throat tightens. "Three deaths in six months. If the pattern holds, we're due for another one soon."
"That's what we're afraid of." Jax's jaw clenches. "Which is why we need to identify the remaining four bloodline carriers and protect them."
"Or find the summoner and stop them before they can kill again," I counter. I look at Finn. "You said your grandfather locked something away from the world. What exactly are we dealing with? What's trying to break free?"
Finn's expression goes dark. Haunted. When he speaks, his voice carries the weight of ancient grief. "A Fomori."
The word hangs in the air like smoke. "I'm sorry—a what?"
"A chaos entity from before the world settled into its current form." Finn turns from the window, and those aquamarine eyes seem to hold centuries. "My grandfather called it An Dubh-Chridhe—the Black Heart."
A chill runs down my spine despite the warmth of Declan's presence beside me. "And it does what, exactly?"