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“This isn’t like Sammy,” I mutter as I move to obey. “He’s punctual—clockwork precise.”

“Exactly,” Raul says, not liking it either. His hands tighten around the wheel as we pull out. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.” His voice is low, grim. “Where do you think he’d go?”

“The east side of the woods,” I answer immediately. “My guess? He went to check out the construction site again. Curiosity probably got the better of him.”

Raul nods, but it’s not relief. Just hope—fragile and thin as thread.

“Let’s hope you’re right,” he says, speeding the truck up. “Because if you’re wrong, tonight’s off. I want Sam watching over Erica. If he’s not back, one of us will need to stay with her.”

I glance at him, brow furrowing.

“I get it. But truthfully? I don’t think she needs protection. I’d stay for Sammy, though, because he’d never leave his Siren without protection—not without a few armed guards prowling nearby.”

“He’s in love,” Raul mutters like it’s a fact of nature. “So am I. And you? You’re on your way.”

That makes me snort. “Am I? What makes you so sure?”

“Persistence,” he shoots back without hesitation. He glances at me for just a second, eyes sharp.

“Mutual persistence. You shut her down? She came back with a plan. Monica said the only reason they went to that North Haven party was to make you jealous. Stacy’s plan. She figured you’d see her with someone else, get mad, finally admit how you feel.

Didn’t expect you to lose your shit. Then she shuts you down. And what do you do? Move a tree for her. No one does that for just a pretty face. You like more than her looks, don’t you?”

“I do,” I admit, the words dry—gravel in my throat. “But now’s not the time.”

The road curves hard. The truck grips the turn as we ascend into Shandaken. Raul stays quiet, but I feel his eyes on me—Alpha gaze, always weighing.

Then a sound rips through the stillness, cleaving it open like a wound. A howl. It tears through the valley, soaked in fear and sharp with need. My gut lurches.

Sammy.And it’s wrong. Everything about it is wrong.

I don’t wait for Raul to stop the truck or give a command. I yank the door handle and hit the ground running. As soon as my boots hit the dirt, I scan the valley. A hillside blocks part of the view, but the town lights blink on the far edge of the valley like distant stars.

The air thrums with something terrible. My brother’s cry came from beyond the trees, near the one place we’ve been trying and failing to understand. I leap the dyke, muscles coiling as I surrender to the shift. It comes fast—eager, primal. My human skin peels away like an afterthought.

Muzzle elongates. Spine arches, cracks, reshapes. Fur explodes down my back. My paws crash into the dirt. The last scraps of my clothes scatter into the underbrush as I lunge forward. Not entirely beast. No longer man. Iamthe wolf—instinct sharpened by fury.

A snarl bursts from my throat as I barrel down the hillside, branches snapping as I pass. I let go of thought. My ears catch everything—the frantic rustle of small creatures fleeing. The pounding rhythm of Raul’s paws behind me. I scan, searching for signs of Sammy. Trees flash past. Shadows flee. A deer stumbles out of my way.

And then—there. Twelve yards from the forest’s border, near the edge of that cursed, cold-blooded science compound.

A shape. I see it through the green and gloom, a white blur, crumpled on the forest floor.

My paws dig deep as I push harder. Raul joins me, running at my side—a mirror of my desperation. We tear through the underbrush, unstoppable. These woods are ours. This is our land—always has been. We are the apex. The nightmare whispered around every human campfire. The unseen terror in the leaves.

And then—I catch the scent. It hits me like a punch to the gut—copper tang of blood, the stench of pain, and something burned and wrong.

We break into the clearing together. Just beyond the trees, at the forest's edge, is the shape—it’s a white wolf.

Sammy.

Sammy’s on his side, limbs bent wrong, his chest still. His eyes are open. Staring at something that he’ll never see again. Blood stains his back from two long, red lines trailing like morbid brushstrokes across snow-white fur.

The bushes around him are crushed. Leaves shredded. The cedar beside him looks like something took a bite out of it. Chunks of it are missing. My breath catches.

The wolf in me snarls to scream, to tear through the grief. But only a whimper escapes—raw and broken. Raul circles Sammy, slowly and reverently. His yellow eyes shine wet. He presses his snout against Sammy’s fur, drinking in his scent one last time. Memorizing it. Mourning it. But I can’t do that. I can’t stay still.

Grief coils around me like a chain I can’t break. Rage follows in its wake. I throw back my head and let the valley hear me. Let the stars hear me. Let the wind carry my cry. Let every creature—two-legged or four—feel what they’ve done.