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Jayden watched with a deep sense of sadness as her grandmother joined her mother and father. She was about to turn away when her grandfather cleared his throat. She glanced upward, surprised when she noticed him standing near the railing.

“Care to spend a few minutes with an old man?” Cyrus asked.

A reluctant smile curved her lips. “You may be old, but you are still one sly fox. How did you know I was here?” she retorted.

Cyrus chuckled and motioned for her to climb up onto the porch. He was sitting in one of the two rockers by the time she climbed the steps. She walked over and sat down beside him.

“Your father tells me that you are refusing to go to the new compound,” he said.

Her throat tightened and she gently rocked the chair. Tears burned the back of her eyes. She would miss this. Time was a precious thing and never a guarantee.

“Yes,” she finally answered.

“I have a favor to ask of you.”

She glanced at her grandfather in surprise. She had expected him to try to talk her out of not going. The last thing she expected was for him to ask her for a favor—unless he was trying to use that reverse psychology stuff on her that he used when she was little.

“What do you need me to do?”

“Do you remember my box?” he asked.

She frowned and nodded. “The one with pretty carvings on it? Yes.”

“I need you to retrieve it for me,” he said.

She gave him a startled look. “You don’t have it with you? You never go anywhere without it.”

He shook his head. “I was afraid back at the cave that we were going to be captured. I wanted to keep it safe. I took it with us when we hid. If you remember, I wasn’t well and it was left behind.”

“What’s in it that is so important? You always promised you’d tell me one day.”

“Today is that day. It is time for you to take over protecting our secret. For centuries, our family has been tasked with a very important mission,” he said.

“You make it sound serious. Shouldn’t that task go to Dad if it is so important?” she asked.

“Your father has too gentle a soul.”

“What does that say about mine?” she demanded with wry amusement.

Her grandfather chuckled. “You have the heart and soul of a warrior. Believe it or not, your ancestors were the protectors of a kingdom. They were part of the King’s Guard.”

“King? King of what, farmers and herders?” she scoffed.

“No, protectors to an Orangutan shifter named King Or’Ang and his queen, a beautiful human named Elizabeth,” he said.

Jayden pressed her feet against the wooden boards and stared at her grandfather wide, shocked eyes. He was serious. Her expression gradually eased from disbelief to curiosity.

“Are you saying there was a human… and a shifter? Before the wars?”

Cyrus padded his pocket for his pipe, pulled it out, and lit it. The fragrant tobacco teased her nostrils. She inhaled the familiar aroma of kinnikinnick, manzanita, and willow bark. She waited impatiently for him to exhale.

“Yes. I’ve only told one other person about this—long ago. I— He paused, rocked, and puffed on his pipe. Jayden waited again. He appeared lost in thought. With a sigh, he continued, “I was going to pass the responsibility on to Mitchell. I shared a bit of the story with him when he was a boy.”

She shot him a startled glance before she stared across to the fire to where Mitchell and Tracy were sitting. An unexpected hurt rose inside her at her grandfather’s confession.

“Why?” she asked, her throat tight with emotion.

“I worried about putting you in danger,” he admitted.