THE TRACKER’S SECRET
MATE TRACKER SERIES, BOOK 2
SUNDERVERSE
INGRID SEYMOUR
Copyright by Ingrid Seymour, 2021.
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental. While every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this book, the publisher assumes no responsibility for errors or omissions, or for damages resulting from the use of the information contained herein.
THE TRACKER'S SECRET
First edition. February 18, 2021.
Copyright © 2021 Ingrid Seymour.
Written by Ingrid Seymour.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Get Notified
Also By Ingrid Seymour
About the Author
Chapter 1
I WAS A FREAKING WEREWOLF.
My whole life my mother had lied to me, and I wasn’t just a tracker, a human with magic in her blood. But, I was also a shifter.
Double Skew, and triple fucked.
Mom had promised me creamy tortellini, and instead, she’d sprung a cloak-wearing mage on me, and he hadn’t been creamy at all. In fact, he’d been a total asshole. With a sneer, he’d tried to put a spell on me, except it didn’t work.
“It’s too late, Amalia,” the mage had said. “She’s already shifted. Renewing the spell is impossible.”
That was when all hell broke loose, when I found out my mother was a big fat liar.
“What the hell?” I staggered back, glancing from the copper-eyed mage back to Mom. “What is he talking about? What is this?”
“Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God!” Mom lost it and got stuck in a loop that offered no explanation. Maybe she needed a thump on the head.
I walked up to her and shook her. “Mom, what’s going on here? What was this man trying to do to me? And what did he mean by ‘renewing the spell’?”
“For all the witchlights. This can’t be!” she exclaimed, turning to the mage, who stood stoically off to the side. “You have to try again, Damien.”
The mage shook his head. “I warned you that there would be no turning back if this happened. It’s too late. I’m sorry, but there’s nothing I can do.”
“Too late for what?!” I demanded, taking a step in his direction, even though the mage scared the crap out of me. He was a Copper Mage, his eyes gave that away, and I didn’t want to make him angry. If I pissed him off, he might decide to turn us into a couple of squawking parrots—though, maybe Mom deserved it.
She’d been lying to me about something, but what?
The mage shrugged and headed out of the kitchen without an answer.
“Get back here and explain,” I roared, my voice a loud grumble that shook the knickknacks on Mom’s shelves.
Mom squeaked. I cleared my throat.
What the hell?
The mage nonchalantly glanced over his shoulder, his gaze going from my face to my hands, which were shot out ready to strangle him.. Thick, rope-like claws tipped my fingers.
I was already freaked out, but this grisly sight pushed me to the brink. I trembled, seeing red.
“Watch your temper, girl,” the mage said. “You could hurt yourself, or worse, your mother.” He gave Mom a sad look. “I’ll be in the next room to make sure she doesn’t eviscerate you. It seems an explanation to your daughter is in order.”
“Eviscerate.” Now, that’s a word that will sober anyone. Shaking, I sat at the kitchen table and watched the claws retreat into place, leaving behind jagged nails with cracked polish. I shook all over from shock.
Claws, I’d sprung claws!
The same had happened last night. I remembered it now. At the repair shop, I’d seen Bernadetta Fiore’s driver, Bertram, along with that Fae female who sneaked out of the Lucciola van. Then I’d chased her, matching her gazelle-like speed and thinking it was all a glamour. Then the claws came, but after that, my memory was a blank.
She’s already shifted. She’s already shifted, the mage’s words rang in my ears.
Fear thrilled down my spine, a cold blade that made me shiver. I glanced over at Mom, who stood with her back against the refrigerator as if she could melt into it and disappear. Her eyes wouldn’t meet mine, and her lower lip trembled. Tears wavered in her eyes. Mom was a strong woman. I could count on one hand the times I’d seen her cry: the day my brother, Leo, left to travel the world, and the day my father died.
My heart shrank to the size of a shriveled pea. Whatever explanation she owed me, I didn’t think I wanted to hear it—not if it brought tears to my tough mother’s eyes.
And yet, how could I not demand an answer?
My body tingled and itched all over, my skin feeling three sizes too small. My fingertips ached, and my throat felt tight. When I spoke, my voice was a few octaves lower than it should have been.
“You’d better start talking and explaining what this is all about,” I said.
Mom’s dark eyes finally met mine. The tears spilled down onto her cheeks as she blinked and swallowed hard. “I don’t know where to begin.”
“Rip off the Band-Aid, Mom. I had a hell of a surprise already. Maybe that means I’m strong enough to survive whatever else you’ve got,” I said, my voice ripe with anger.
I had never talked to her like that, but it was clear she’d been lying to me and would’ve continued to do so if the mage had been able to “renew the spell,” which meant it wasn’t the first time he’d done it. Mom had been insisting I come to visit her for days, but I’d been too busy and had avoided her insistent calls. Now, it turned out she hadn’t been desperate for my charming company.
With one shaking step, Mom came away from the refrigerator. Her hands were clasped in front of her as she wrung them together nervously. “I only wanted the best for you. I didn’t want
