We’re in the kitchen, picking and choosing what can travel well and feed us later in the event that we can’t find game, when Ridge shoulders his bag and says, “I’m going to speak to Amora, let her know what’s happening.”
“Hey, have her send a messenger to my dad too, if you can.” I swing my own bag up over my shoulder, leaving it loose since I’ll have to shift when we leave.
“And to my pack,” Trystan adds. “Clearly, I’m not coming home soon. They deserve an update.”
Ridge nods. “Will do. Meet me where the road ends north of the village.” Then he vanishes out the back door.
Thanks to Dare, we know Wolfsbane Mountain is twenty miles north. From there, we have no way of knowing how much longer the journey will be. Even in wolf form, it’s a haul. As long as there’s wildlife out there, we’ll have access to food, but I don’t honestly know what to expect when we reach the outskirts of the witch’s territory. Anywhere witch magic hangs heavy in the air, animals tend to avoid the area, like it’s off limits. Once we cross whatever barriers she has up, we’ll be on our own.
One thing is for sure—Sable should not be making this journey alone, and I blame the four of us for putting her in this situation.
“We should have listened to what she was saying back at Elder Jihoon’s house,” I mutter to Dare under my breath as Trystan leads us out the door a few minutes later. “It’s easy for us to say ‘we’ll figure it out.’ We aren’t the ones going through what she is.”
“I guess.” He shakes his head as we start heading up the road, his jaw hard. “Shouldn’t she trust us? We’re her mates. We wouldn’t steer her wrong.”
“But what do we really know about any of this?” I scrub a frustrated hand through my hair. “We’re the assholes, Dare. Not Sable. We could easily steer her wrong without even knowing we’re doing it. She’s the only one who knows what it’s like inside her head, what the witch magic is doing to her. We should’ve put more stock in her opinion. She knows finding another witch is a risk, so if she still felt like she needed to do it, there’s a reason for that. It’s because this is bad. Worse than we knew.”
“Fucking hell.” Dare’s lips press together, worry darkening his eyes. “I just wanted to protect her.”
“Yeah. Me too. The road to hell is paved with good intentions,” Trystan says wryly from up ahead. I didn’t even know he was listening to us. I’m still not used to this new version of the West Pack alpha, who listens and stays out of his own head long enough to be involved. Sable’s been a good influence on him.
Ridge is several houses down, standing on Amora’s front porch. In the pre-dawn light, all I can see of her is the pale flash of her hands in the doorway as she talks to him. Trystan, Dare, and I don’t stop, continuing on to where the road ends abruptly at the edge of the village. As we wait for him, my mind drifts back to the day I talked Sable into staying as she stood on a spot at the edge of the village and looked out into the wilderness, psyching herself up to leave.
Somehow, I doubt she even hesitated tonight. I can picture her in wolf form, the moonlight shining off her dappled blonde-and-white fur, a reflection in the night as she bounded into the woods.
Within moments, Ridge joins us, looking grim. “Let’s go.”
Without saying a word, Dare, Trystan, and I all strip and shift. Ridge affixes our packs to our backs before loosening the straps on his own pack so it won’t be torn off when he shifts. The magic ripples over him, then the four of us take off into the forest.
Now that I’m in wolf form, the lingering effects of Sable’s spell vanish, and I feel more clear-headed. I can tell the same can be said for my companions, because they’re moving faster and easier too. The early morning birdsong cuts through the fog and gives me something to focus on as we leave the open fields around the village for the cover of the trees.
Lucky for us, Sable has no clue what she’s doing. A wolf who doesn’t want to be found can be a tricky creature to track. They’re good at erasing their presence and disguising their scents. The more practice and time they have to hone these skills, the better they get, until they’re nothing but a ghost in the forest. Sable hasn’t had the time or training to pick up those tricks, thankfully.
Once inside the forest, we stick our noses to the ground and start searching for her scent. I dart through the trees, zig zagging to cover more ground. The dirt here is heavy with the scent of shifters—Ridge’s pack mates going on patrol, going hunting, taking walks. I’m looking for Sable’s specific smell, and I know I’ll recognize it the moment I cross it.
Found her, Ridge calls out through our mind connection before long, then lets out a yip to pinpoint his location.
I pop up from my search and see Trystan’s shaggy chocolate brown wolf heading farther into the trees. I follow him, trusting he’s got eyes on our friend.
Ridge stamps at the ground as we approach, and then whips around with a swing of his tail and takes off, his nose to the ground as he follows her trail.
As we near him, I smell it too. The unmistakable combination of smells that can only be my mate.
My heart thuds heavily in my chest as
