Page 14 of Anders (The Sunburst Pack #2)

I think because it’s wearing off, Anders said. He moved slowly into the kitchen, still giving her plenty of space as he refilled her coffee mug. Your senses are returning to their natural state. It can be overwhelming at first.

Etta took the mug when he offered it, careful not to let their fingers touch. She wasn’t ready for that, not yet. How do you know all this?

I don’t, he admitted. Not for certain. But we’ve been piecing it together since you arrived. The mark on your neck matches one Sarah saw years ago, on a man who came to check the pack’s security systems while Vincent—our former alpha—was in charge.

Vincent, Etta murmured. The name triggered something—a face glimpsed in her research, cold eyes that had seemed familiar even when she’d first seen the photo.

Anders watched her carefully. You recognize the name?

I don’t know, she said honestly. Maybe. Everything’s jumbled. I keep getting these…flashes. Memories, I guess. But they don’t fit with what I thought I knew about myself.

Your real memories are breaking through, Anders suggested, leaning against the counter. His posture was casual, but Etta noticed how his eyes constantly tracked her movements, assessing. The chemical suppression is failing.

And that’s why I can hear your heartbeat from across the room? Why everything smells so intense? Why my eyes keep…changing?

Anders nodded. Your wolf is waking up.

My wolf, Etta echoed. The words should have felt ridiculous, but instead they resonated with something deep inside her. You make it sound like it’s separate from me.

It’s not, Anders said. The wolf is you, just a different aspect. We’re taught to think of ourselves as whole beings—not human with a wolf inside, but one complete entity that can take different forms.

Etta stared into her coffee, watching ripples form from the slight tremor in her hands. I keep writing things. Notes about the pack, about myself. Like I’m some kind of…specimen.

They trained you to observe and report, Anders said. Probably alongside the memory suppression. But you didn’t know what you were doing—that’s obvious from how distressed you are now.

A sleeper agent, Etta whispered. Like in spy novels.

But real, Anders confirmed. And if they did it to you…

They could have done it to others, Etta finished, a chill running through her. Other packs could be compromised without knowing it.

Anders’s expression darkened. That’s what worries me.

Etta’s fingers twitched with the need to write again—to document this conversation, this revelation. But now she fought the compulsion, recognizing it for what it was: programming, not choice.

Who are ‘they’? she asked instead. Who did this to me?

That’s what we need to figure out, Anders said. Do you remember anything about the facility? The people who kept you there?

Etta closed her eyes, trying to sort through the fragments of memory. White walls. Men in lab coats. They kept calling me ‘the subject’ or ‘the asset.’

What else?

Etta shook her head, frustrated. Nothing else.

Tell me about your life, about how these visions fit in.

She shrugged helplessly. They don’t fit in.

It’s like random images that show up at weird times.

I’ve told you about the one from when I was small—but then the rest of my childhood is perfectly normal.

I was born in Billings, Montana. My father’s an insurance adjuster, and my mother’s a housewife. We’re boring .

Anders was already shaking his head. You may have grown up in Billings, but I don’t think you were born there. And you’re definitely not boring.

Etta let out a harsh laugh. Worse, I’m beginning to doubt my parents are even really my parents.

Why would you say that?

Her voice dropped to a whisper. They never really felt right. I mean, they did and said all the right things, but… She sighed. When I left Billings to go to the University of Montana in Missoula, it was like I was able to really breathe for the first time.

So that’s where you got your degree?

She nodded. In journalism.

But if her placement in Sunburst had been planned…

Her stomach dropped. That wasn’t really my choice, either, was it?

Anders gave a one-shouldered shrug. I don’t know.

All my small-town reporter jobs up until now—they were all leading to this position. Etta ground her teeth. Nothing about me is real. It’s like I’m not a person at all.

That’s not true.

It is! My job, my desire to be a reporter, everything about me is fake.

Maybe the job, Anders conceded. But your skills in journalism would have to be real. Your degree is real. Anything you’ve ever written. All those things are real. And so are you.

But I’ve been placed here.

Anders nodded seriously. I believe so, yes. We need to tell Malcolm and Larissa. This affects the entire pack—all packs, potentially.

At the thought of facing others, of being examined and questioned, panic welled up in Etta’s throat. I can’t—not yet. I barely understand any of this myself.

Okay, Anders said, surprising her with his immediate agreement. We take this at your pace. But we do need to figure out what’s happening to you, and quickly. If your suppression is failing, there’s no telling how your body will react.

Etta took a deep breath, steadying herself. She was a journalist—she dealt in facts, in investigation. She could approach this the same way.

I need to know more, she decided. About shifters, about packs. About what I am. And I need to remember more about what they did to me.

Anders studied her for a long moment. That’s going to be difficult. Painful, probably. The memories you recover may not be pleasant ones.

I know, Etta said. But I can’t hide from this. And if we’re right, I can’t let them—whoever they may be—use me anymore.

Something flashed in Anders’s eyes—approval, maybe, or respect. Good, he said simply.

Etta stood, surprising herself with the sudden certainty of her next decision. I want to try.

Try what? Anders asked, though his expression suggested he already knew.

Shifting, Etta said, the word sending a mixture of terror and exhilaration through her. If I’m really what you say I am—what my memories say I am—then I need to know. To experience it consciously.

Are you sure? Anders asked. The first shift after suppression probably won’t be easy. I’m guessing your body will fight it, resist the change.

I’m sure, Etta said, feeling more conviction than she had in days. I need this, Anders. I need to reclaim whatever they took from me.

Anders was silent for a long moment, studying her face. Then he nodded. Okay. But not here. We need somewhere safer, somewhere with more space.

First, I want to know what you’ve found out about my rental house, about whoever’s been watching me. I need to understand what I’m up against.

Without waiting for his response, she headed down the hallway in the direction he’d come from earlier. Anders caught up in two long strides, his movements fluid and silent in a way she now recognized as distinctly nonhuman.

Here, he said, pushing open a door at the end of the hall.

The room was filled with monitors, each displaying a different view of Sunburst. One screen showed her rental house, its windows dark and empty. Another showed the newspaper office, the door still ajar from their hasty exit the night before.

You’ve been watching me, Etta said, not sure if she should be angry or grateful.

Protecting you, Anders corrected. Though, I didn’t know that’s what I was doing at first. I thought you might be a threat.

Etta studied the screens, noting the strategic placement of cameras, the methodical coverage of key locations. And now?

Anders met her gaze steadily. Now I know you’re a victim. But also a survivor. And maybe the key to protecting other packs from whatever organization has been experimenting on our kind.

The certainty in his voice, the absolute conviction, stirred something in Etta. For the first time since her world had shattered, she felt a flicker of hope.

Will you help me? she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Help me remember? Help me… She paused and swallowed hard. Help me shift? I don’t think I can do this alone.

His expression softened. Yes.

Then teach me, she said.

We’ll start tonight, he said with a nod. Under the moon.

At his words, Etta felt something ancient and powerful stirring beneath her skin.

Perhaps her wolf, awakening after decades of forced slumber?

She shivered at the thought.

I hope I can survive this .