Chapter 4: Shadows in the Sketchbook

The lodge felt different after the rites. Smaller. Like the walls had grown ears and the floorboards learned to whisper. Every pack member we passed kept their eyes down, but I caught the sideways glances anyway. The kind that said they were wondering which one of them had sold us out to Kane.

I hugged my arms tighter around myself, the thin white shift doing nothing against the chill that had followed us back from the clearing. Andrei's hand stayed at the small of my back, a brand and a balm all at once. The bond still hummed between us, raw from the alcove and the way he'd marked my skin without finishing inside me. My thighs stuck faintly with the evidence. Mortifying.

"Stop looking at everyone like they're holding the knife," he murmured. That low rasp hit the bite scar and made it throb. "It makes them nervous."

"Good," I shot back, dry as the coffee I was already craving. "Maybe the traitor will twitch and rat themselves out. Or is that too much to hope for in your perfect little cult?"

His thumb brushed my spine once, almost gentle. Then we were in the main hall, fire crackling like it wanted to burn the tension out of the air. Lila was already there, barking orders at a cluster of wolves who looked like they'd rather be anywhere else. Her bob swung sharply as she gestured, one hand resting on the dagger at her hip.

Andrei released me only long enough to stride forward. "Interrogate them. All of them. Starting with the outer patrols. No one sleeps until we have answers."

The hall emptied fast. Too fast. I watched a young guy with a scar across his cheek flinch when Andrei's steel gaze landed. My wolf paced inside my ribs, hackles half-raised. Who had watched me come apart in that alcove? Who knew I'd sketched Andrei's shoulders like some lovesick idiot in my hidden journal?

Lila caught my eye and jerked her chin toward a side door. "Come on, newbie. Let's put that nervous energy to work before you vibrate out of your skin."

I followed because what else was I going to do? Sit in Andrei's bedroom humming folk songs until the Fade came knocking? The training room she led me to was more cave than gym, stone walls and woven mats that smelled of sweat and pine. Racks of wooden practice blades looked older than the lodge itself.

"Strip down to the thermal," she said, already shedding her jacket. Her wiry frame was all lean muscle and hidden steel. "Shifting on command isn't about wanting it. It's about not shitting yourself when it happens."

I snorted and peeled off the ridiculous white shift. Cool air raised goosebumps on my arms. "Romantic. You moonlight as a motivational speaker?"

She grinned, teeth sharp. "Only on Tuesdays. Now breathe like I showed you. In through the nose, out like you're trying to blow out birthday candles from hell."

We started simple. Or what she called simple. Lila demonstrated a partial shift—claws sliding from her fingertips like switchblades, eyes flashing grey to wolf silver, the faintest lengthening of her canines. No full bones cracking. Just enough to remind me what lurked under my skin.

I tried. My fingers tingled. Heat built around the bite scar. But when I pushed, nothing. Just a pathetic twitch in my nails and a headache blooming behind my eyes.

"Again," Lila snapped after the fourth failure. Sweat beaded on her forehead. "You're fighting it. Stop treating your wolf like an unwelcome guest."

"Easy for you to say." My voice came out rougher than I liked. I traced the scar without thinking and felt that low pull in my belly that always answered. "She's the reason I'm stuck here playing supernatural prisoner."

Lila's expression softened a fraction. She stepped closer, hands on my shoulders. Her touch was clinical, almost sisterly. "Look. I get it. Andrei's... a lot. The bond's a lot. But that wolf in you? She's not the enemy. She's the only one who might keep you breathing when Kane's goons come knocking."

Something in her tone made me study her closer. The way her grey eyes—same as Andrei's but warmer—flicked away for half a second. Like she was remembering something unpleasant. I wondered what it felt like to watch your brother lose a mate. To carry that weight without the bond's direct knife.

We tried again. This time I didn't fight the heat. I pictured the forest instead. The way moonlight had felt on my skin in the alcove. The way Andrei's body had moved against me, making me feel terrifyingly whole. My amber eyes flared. Claws slid out—short, blunt, but real. A growl rumbled in my throat, unbidden.

"There she is," Lila breathed, actual pride in her voice. She held up her own clawed hand. "Now hold it. Don't let it take your whole arm. Control it."

I did. For about ten glorious seconds. Then the power slipped, racing up my forearm in a crack of bone that made me yelp. Pain lanced through me. I dropped to my knees on the mat, clutching my wrist as it popped back to human. Humiliating tears pricked my eyes.

Lila crouched beside me, one hand on my back. "Hey. First intentional shift's always a shitshow. You didn't piss yourself this time. Progress."

I laughed despite myself, the sound watery. "Small mercies. Next time maybe I'll manage not to cry like a ranger who lost her Jeep keys."

She helped me up, surprisingly gentle. We sat on the edge of the mat passing a water skin that tasted faintly of herbs. For a moment the paranoia eased. Lila wasn't looking at me like a pawn or a threat. Just another woman stuck in this mess of fangs and curses.

"Does it ever get easier?" I asked, tracing a claw mark I'd left in the mat. "The bond. The watching eyes. Knowing someone's feeding your secrets to the enemy?"

She was quiet long enough that I glanced over. Her bob hid half her face. "Easier? No. You just get better at deciding what parts of yourself you're willing to lose. Andrei lost a lot with Elena. Don't let him lose you the same way."

The words landed heavy. I wanted to ask what she meant—how much of Andrei's possessiveness came from fear instead of alpha bullshit—but the door banged open.

Andrei filled the frame, sleeves rolled higher now, scars standing out like accusations under the torchlight. His steel eyes found me immediately, softening at the sight of my flushed cheeks and messy braid. Then they hardened again as they slid to Lila.

"Progress?" he asked, voice clipped.

"Baby steps," Lila said, standing with a stretch that showed off the knives strapped to her ribs. "She's got fire. Unlike some alphas who think looming solves everything."

He didn't smile. The tension between them crackled. "I need the room. Take the evening patrol. Double the markers near the eastern ridge."

Lila's mouth tightened but she nodded. She squeezed my shoulder once before leaving—solidarity, or warning? The door shut behind her with a soft click that felt too final.

Andrei crossed to me slowly, like I might bolt. His big hands cupped my face, thumbs brushing my cheekbones. The contact sent warmth spiraling through the bond, easing the ache in my wrist. My wolf sighed inside me, leaning into it. Traitor.

"You did well," he said. The words were simple but his voice had gone intense again, that rasp that made my stomach flip. "I felt it. Through the bond."

I swallowed, suddenly aware of how little I was wearing. Just the thermal and leggings, both clinging from sweat. "Don't get poetic on me, Moriarty. I cried like an idiot."

His laugh was rough, surprised. He pulled me against his chest, one arm banding around my waist. I let him. Just for a minute. The cedar-smoke scent of him wrapped around me, muting the paranoia that had been gnawing since the clearing. His heart beat steady under my ear. Strong. Alive. Mine, my wolf whispered.

"I can't lose you," he said into my hair. The words slipped out like they'd been dragged. His hand tightened on my hip, almost bruising. "Elena... she trusted too easily. Kane's wolves tore her apart while I was miles away. I felt every second of it. The bond doesn't let you forget."

I pulled back enough to see his face. Those steel eyes looked haunted, shadows pooling in the hollows of his sharp cheekbones. He looked forty-one then. Not the ruthless alpha, but a man carrying eight years of ghosts. My throat tightened. This was dangerous. Vulnerability from him felt like a hook sinking deeper than his teeth ever had.

"I'm not her," I whispered, echoing what I'd said before. My fingers found one of his scars, tracing the raised line along his collarbone. His breath hitched.

"I know." His thumb brushed my bottom lip, that familiar gesture now heavy with restraint. "You're wildfire where she was steady flame. But the thought of you out there, bleeding because someone in these walls sold you to him..." He trailed off, jaw flexing. "It makes me want to chain every door. Including yours."

The confession should have pissed me off. Chains. Prison. Instead it made heat pool low in my belly, mixed with something softer that felt a lot like understanding. I rose on my toes and kissed him. Not the frantic heat from the alcove. Something slower. Tentative. His mouth opened under mine with a groan that vibrated through us both.

We didn't go further. Just stood there in the training room, mouths moving lazy and deep while the bond sang between us. When we broke apart my lips felt swollen. His eyes had gone molten.

"Come to bed," he said. Command wrapped in plea. "The interrogations can wait an hour."

I almost said yes. My body certainly wanted to. But the journal waited upstairs. The one I'd left hidden under the mattress with fresh sketches of the lodge's weak points. The one that now felt like evidence. "Five minutes. I need to wash the failure sweat off first."

He let me go, but his eyes followed me all the way out.

---

My room—his room, whatever—felt colder than it should have. I stripped quickly and stepped into the massive shower, letting hot water pound the soreness from my muscles. The bite scar tingled under the spray, sending phantom echoes of pleasure down my spine. I traced it, remembering his teeth. His cock stretching me open. The way he'd looked coming across my skin like he couldn't bear to mark me deeper yet.

Get it together, Simone, I muttered to the tiles. You don't go soft for the guy who bit you just because he did the tragic backstory drop. Your inner wolf is a thirsty bitch, but you still have standards.

But it complicated everything. That was the problem. I dried off and pulled on one of his black shirts. It smelled like him. Of course it did. Then I dug the journal from under the mattress, flipping it open on the bed.

The first few pages were as I'd left them. Sketches of the compound layout. Notes on patrol patterns I'd observed from the window. A half-finished drawing of Andrei's hands—those calloused fingers that had been so gentle on my scrapes. My face heated. Pathetic.

But then I turned the page.

One sheet was missing. Cleanly torn, not ripped. The edge was too neat, like someone had taken their time. My blood ran cold. The page had held my most detailed escape notes—perimeter markers, a rough map of the eastern ridge, even a stupid doodle of me running free with a backpack. Gone.

Someone knew. Someone had been in here while we were at the rites. While I'd been coming apart under Andrei in that alcove. The paranoia from earlier crashed back tenfold. Lila? One of the servants? The young wolf with the cheek scar who'd flinched in the hall?

I slammed the journal shut and shoved it back under the mattress, heart hammering. My hands shook as I traced the bite scar again and again. The Fade stirred faintly in my chest, a warning flutter. Or maybe that was just fear wearing its Sunday best.

I needed to test this. To see if I could control the shift without Lila's guidance. If my wolf could help me figure out who to trust. Or who to run from.

Closing my eyes, I reached for that heat again. The one from training. This time I didn't fight the memories. Andrei's confession. The way his voice had cracked on Elena's name. The solid warmth of his chest against mine. My amber eyes flared behind my lids. Bones ached but didn't break. Fur prickled along my arms—soft, honey-blonde like my hair. Claws slid out fully this time. I held them up, marveling at the way they caught the lamplight.

Power hummed through me. Not overwhelming. Controllable. I could feel the forest calling, the pines whispering my name like old friends. For the first time since waking in this bed, I didn't feel like prey. I felt like something with teeth.

The partial shift held for a full minute. Then two. My wolf's senses sharpened—scents of woodsmoke and distant rain, the faint metallic tang of fear from somewhere in the lodge. I could hear Andrei's voice downstairs, interrogating someone with short, deliberate sentences that promised pain if answers didn't come.

Empowerment and terror twisted together in my gut. This was strength. But it was also proof that the wolf was changing me. Making me need the bond. Making me wonder if escape was even what I wanted anymore.

I let the shift recede, bones settling with only a mild ache. My claws retracted. The mirror across the room showed my eyes still glowing amber, wild and uncertain. I looked like a ranger who'd lost her trail and found something far more dangerous.

A soft knock at the door made me jump. "Simone?" Andrei's voice, edged with that rasp. "You decent? Or do I need to come in and check?"

I yanked on leggings, pulse racing for entirely new reasons. "Come in before you loom the door down."

He entered, carrying two mugs of coffee—black, strong, no foam art. The good stuff. His eyes raked over me, noting the damp hair, the flush on my cheeks. Something like pride flickered across his angular face.

"You shifted again," he said. Not a question. The bond must have told him. "On your own."

"Don't sound so smug." I took the mug, letting the heat seep into my palms. It wasn't as good as my old percolator in the ranger station, but it beat the fancy espresso crap. "It was just claws. No howling at the moon or humping your leg."

His mouth twitched. He set his own mug down and stepped closer, backing me against the bedpost without touching. That predatory grace made my newly sharpened senses go haywire. "I'd allow the latter. Under the right circumstances."

Heat flooded my face. I traced the scar to steady myself, which only made his eyes darken further. The air between us thickened, charged with everything we'd done in the alcove and everything we hadn't said since.

Before I could fire back something sarcastic, a raised voice echoed from downstairs. Lila's. Arguing with someone. I strained my new wolf ears, the bond helping me focus.

"...finish what we started," she was saying, voice low but carrying. "The bloodline must be secured before the full moon. No more half-measures."

Andrei's head snapped toward the door. His shoulders tensed, scars pulling tight under his rolled sleeves. But I couldn't unhear it. Lila. My reluctant mentor. The one who'd just helped me through my humiliating training session. Talking about securing my bloodline like I was a prize mare after all.

My stomach dropped. The journal page. The missing sketch. The way she'd squeezed my shoulder like she was sorry for something.

I looked at Andrei, really looked. His face had gone carefully blank, but I felt the spike of unease through the bond. He knew something. Or suspected.

The coffee suddenly tasted like ash. My wolf whined inside me, torn between the man in front of me and the woman who'd almost felt like an ally. Paranoia clawed up my throat.

Who the hell could I trust when even the reluctant big sister might be playing her own game with my rare, oh-so-valuable blood?

Andrei's hand found mine, squeezing once. But for the first time, his touch felt like it might be hiding knives too.