Chapter 16
CADE
Ifeel the difference before I see it. Before anyone says a word. Before the sun even clears the ridge. It’s in the way my wolf settles under my skin—not restless, not fighting for control, but alert in a new way. Focused. Anchored. Claimed.
I stand just outside the cabin, the early morning air cold against my skin, and drag a slow breath into my lungs. Everything sharpens. The forest. The distant movement of small animals beneath the brush. The faint traces of scent carried on the wind. And beneath all of it— Her.
Eliza’s scent clings to me, woven into my skin so completely there’s no separating it now.
It’s not just proximity anymore. Not just contact.
It’s deeper. Permanent. My wolf lifts its head inside me, satisfied in a way I’ve never felt before.
Mine. I close my eyes briefly, forcing a slow exhale.
Control. Always control. But it’s harder now.
Not because I’m losing it— Because I don’t want to.
The cabin door opens behind me with a soft creak. I don’t need to turn to know it’s her.
“You’re already up,” Eliza says, her voice still rough with sleep.
I glance back over my shoulder. She stands in the doorway, wrapped in one of my shirts, her hair loose around her shoulders, eyes still adjusting to the light.
For a second— Just a second— Everything else fades. The threat. The patrols. The war building just beyond the tree line. All of it narrows to her standing there, looking at me like she’s still figuring out what we are now.
“Couldn’t sleep,” I say.
Not entirely a lie. Her gaze lingers on me, studying, like she can feel it too. Something’s changed.
“You feel different,” she says.
I turn fully now.
“So do you.”
A small crease forms between her brows.
“That’s not exactly reassuring.”
“It’s not a bad thing.”
I step closer, slow enough to give her space to pull back if she wants to. She doesn’t. The distance closes easily. Naturally. My hand lifts, brushing lightly against her arm, and the contact sends a quiet jolt through me—not sharp, not overwhelming. Steady. Right. Her breath catches slightly.
“Okay,” she murmurs. “That’s… new.”
“It’s the bond,” I say.
Her eyes flick up to mine.
“Stronger?”
“Yes.”
She exhales slowly, like she’s trying to process it without letting it overwhelm her.
“And this is just… how it is now?”
“Yes.”
A beat.
“That’s a lot.”
“I know.”
She studies me, then gives a small, almost reluctant nod.
“Yeah,” she says softly. “You do.”
For a moment, we just stand there. No urgency. No argument. Just the quiet recognition of something that’s no longer avoidable. Then— A distant voice cuts through the stillness.
“Cade!”
Nolan. Urgent. I step back immediately, instincts snapping back into place.
“Eliza, stay inside,” I say.
Her expression shifts instantly—frustration flickering beneath the surface.
“I’m not made of glass,” she says.
“I know.”
“Then stop acting like I am.”
I step closer again, lowering my voice.
“This isn’t about that.”
“Then what is it about?”
“Timing.”
She holds my gaze, searching for something there. Then, reluctantly—
“Fine,” she says. “But we’re not done with this conversation.”
“No,” I agree. “We’re not.”
I turn and head toward Nolan, already shifting gears. Back to the fight. Nolan is waiting on the main road, arms crossed, expression tighter than usual.
“That didn’t take long,” he says as I approach.
“What is it?”
“Scouts picked up movement near the southern boundary,” he says. “Close.”
“How close?”
“Too close.”
My jaw tightens.
“Numbers?”
“Small group,” he says. “One broke off from the rest.”
“A scout.”
“That’s what we’re thinking.”
Good. That means we have a chance to isolate it.
“Where?”
He jerks his head toward the tree line.
“Gideon’s already tracking.”
Of course he is.
“Let’s move.”
We find Gideon less than half a mile into the forest, crouched low near a disturbed patch of ground. He doesn’t look up as we approach.
“Tell me you see it,” he says.
I step beside him, scanning the earth. The tracks are faint—but they’re there. Deep. Uneven. Wrong.
“Moving fast,” I say.
“Not fast enough,” Gideon replies. “It’s circling.”
“Testing,” Nolan says.
“No,” I correct. “Watching.”
The distinction matters.
“Can you follow it?” I ask.
Gideon snorts.
“I already am.”
He stands, rolling his shoulders once before shifting his weight forward.
“Stay sharp,” he adds. “This one’s not stupid.”
None of them are. That’s the problem.
We track it for nearly twenty minutes before the forest goes quiet. Too quiet. Every instinct sharpens instantly.
“Stop,” I say.
Gideon freezes mid-step. Nolan shifts slightly behind me.
“What is it?” he asks.
I don’t answer. I don’t need to. The scent hits a second later. Rot. Blood. And something chemical beneath it. Close. Very close.
“It’s here,” I say.
The words barely leave my mouth before the underbrush explodes. The creature lunges from the trees with terrifying speed, aiming straight for Gideon’s throat. I move before the thought fully forms. Intercept.
We collide hard, the impact driving me back a step as claws rake across my shoulder. Pain flares—but I ignore it, grabbing the creature mid-lunge and slamming it into the ground.
It thrashes immediately, stronger than anything its size should be. Too strong.
“Hold it!” Nolan shouts.
“I’ve got it!”
Gideon recovers fast, shifting partially as he moves in from the side.
“On your left!”
The creature twists unnaturally, snapping toward him with jaws that don’t quite match the shape of its skull.
Mutated. Unstable. I tighten my grip and drive my weight down, pinning it just long enough for Gideon to strike.
His claws tear across its side, opening it up—but it barely slows.
It doesn’t react like a normal animal. Doesn’t retreat.
Doesn’t hesitate. It fights. Relentless.
I shift further, letting more of my wolf surface, strength surging through my muscles as I force it back.
“End it!” Nolan snaps.
I don’t hesitate. My claws drive deep, straight through its chest. The creature jerks once.
Twice. Then goes still. Silence crashes down around us.
Heavy. Final. I stay there for a moment, breathing hard, making sure it’s done.
Only when I’m certain do I release it and step back. Gideon exhales sharply.
“Yeah,” he agrees. “That’s not normal.”
“No,” Nolan agrees.
I crouch beside the body, forcing myself to look closer. To really look. Up close, it’s worse. The structure is wrong—bones slightly misaligned, muscle density uneven, patches of fur thinning where the skin beneath looks almost… altered. Engineered. My stomach tightens.
“This isn’t just a hybrid,” I say.
Gideon glances down at it.
“Then what the hell is it?”
“A modification,” I answer.
Nolan crouches beside me.
“You’re thinking the same thing I am?”
“Yes.”
He grimaces.
“That’s bad.”
“Worse than that,” I say.
I press two fingers against the creature’s side, feeling the unnatural rigidity beneath the skin.
“They didn’t just create these things,” I continue. “They changed them after.”
“Improved them,” Gideon says.
I shake my head.
“Not improved.”
I meet his gaze.
“Controlled.”
The word settles between us. Cold. Heavy. Because if that’s true— Then this is something designed. Directed. And we’re already behind. I rise slowly, wiping the blood from my hands.
“This was a scout,” I say.
Nolan nods.
“Yeah.”
“They’ll know it’s gone.”
Gideon’s expression darkens.
“Which means—”
“They’ll adjust.”
Silence. Then— Nolan exhales.
“So what’s the plan?”
I look back toward the direction of town. Toward where Eliza is. Waiting. Unaware of just how close this is getting.
“We don’t wait for them to come to us,” I say.
Gideon’s eyes narrow slightly.
“We go to them.”
“Yes.”
Because this ends one way or another. And I’m not letting it end with them getting anywhere near her again.
Not now. Not ever. The words settle into something more than a promise.
They become a line. One I won’t let anything cross.
I turn back to the body, crouching again despite the part of me that wants to leave it behind and move. Study later. Act now.
But that’s how mistakes happen.
I force myself to look closer. Really look. Gideon shifts beside me, watching in silence while Nolan scans the surrounding tree line, keeping guard.
“Something’s off,” I observe.
“That’s an understatement,” Nolan says dryly.
I ignore him, reaching out carefully and pressing my hand against the creature’s shoulder. The fur parts under my fingers, revealing skin that’s too smooth in places, too rigid in others.
There. A faint line. Not natural. Not part of any animal. A seam. My stomach tightens.
“They cut into it,” I say.
Gideon leans closer. “You’re sure?”
I drag my fingers lightly along the line, feeling the subtle difference in texture.
“Yeah,” I say quietly. “This happened after it was already alive.”
Nolan exhales sharply. “That’s… worse than I wanted to hear.”
“It means they’re not just creating these things,” I continue. “They’re maintaining them.”
“Upgrading them,” Gideon adds.
I shake my head again, more firmly this time.
“No,” I say. “Refining control.”
Because that’s what all of this points back to. Not strength. Not survival. Control.
My gaze lifts, scanning the forest around us again, but this time I’m not just looking for movement. I’m thinking. If something is still out there— Something capable of doing this—
Then the hybrids aren’t the only threat we’re dealing with. And that changes the fight completely. I rise slowly, every instinct sharpening.
“We’re not just hunting predators anymore,” I say.
Nolan’s expression tightens. “Then what are we hunting?”
I meet his gaze.
“The one who made them.”
The forest goes still around us, like it’s listening. Waiting. Suddenly, I know with absolute certainty— This doesn’t end with the last hybrid falling. It ends when whatever created them is gone. And until then— No one in Silver Ridge is safe. Especially her.