Page 52 of Bound to Exiles (Rejected Wolf Pack #5)

Heath

The Jeep’s engine cut out as I pulled to a stop well within Frost Fang packlands.

The fact that I’d been able to drive through Frost Fang’s border without being stopped at all didn’t bode well.

I sat for a moment, gripping the steering wheel, my knuckles white with tension.

The silver pendant Brielle had given me and Freya had boosted felt cool against my chest, a small comfort as I prepared to face my father.

I closed my eyes, reaching through the Bonded link.

Their presence filled me with warmth — Freya’s fierce love, Gage’s steady strength, Zak’s quiet concern, Flint’s unwavering loyalty, and Rowan’s vicious anticipation.

He wanted nothing more than to sink his teeth into some witches for daring to hurt more wolves.

It had been a painful overnight trip as I navigated my way to Frost Fang while trying to make sure I wasn’t followed or waylaid along any of the supposedly neutral roads that rogue wolves sometimes patrolled.

Once inside Frost Fang borders, I’d been on the lookout for witches, not wanting to be ambushed. My goal was to casually meet my father, not be brought to him as a captive. It had been eerily easy to get this far .

Only my Howling Echo packmates, waiting just outside Frost Fang packlands to back me up, gave me any reassurance.

“I’m here,” I told them. “About to head in.”

Rowan’s acknowledgment reached me first. “I’ll be on the lookout for you.”

Then Freya’s voice came through, tinged with worry, “Be careful, love.”

“Remember to keep your lies simple,” Zak added.

“We’ll be waiting,” Flint said. “Just give the word.”

“And don’t take any unnecessary risks,” Gage added, his alpha command bleeding across our mental connection.

I smiled despite myself. “Yes, alpha.”

With a deep breath, I pulled my curtains across our Bonded connection, not wanting to distract myself with their reactions.

I needed to focus entirely on the task ahead.

I stepped out of the Jeep, the cold December air biting at my exposed skin.

The scent of Frost Fang was familiar — pine, snow, and wolf — but now it carried an undercurrent of something else.

Magic. Witch magic.

My wolf bristled beneath my skin, hackles raised. I forced him down, reminding myself why I was here. For Frost Fang. For the wolves suffering at the hands of witches and my traitorous father.

I didn’t bother to hide my approach. In fact, I wanted to be noticed. The sooner word reached my father that I was here, the sooner I could begin this charade.

I had only made it halfway to the pack house when I spotted two shifters from the outer towns flanking a witch.

The shifters were Frost Fang betas I recognized as Fern’s supporters, but their movements were stiff.

The two betas fell into step behind me, and their eyes bored into my back.

They didn’t speak, didn’t even acknowledge me as a dominant alpha.

It was as if they were puppets, moving only at the witch’s command.

The witch was tall and slender, with copper-colored hair pulled back in a severe bun. She wore practical clothing — dark jeans and a heavy coat — but her scent marked her as clearly as if she’d carried a sign .

“Oh, hello,” she called, her voice carrying across the clearing.

I kept my expression neutral as I approached. “My name’s Heath. I’m here to see my father.”

She gave no indication of surprise.

“My name is Mabel. Dryden mentioned you might pay us a visit.” She gestured for me to follow. “This way.”

The familiar scent of wood smoke and pine hit me, but it was tainted by the smell of magic and fear.

As we walked through the packlands, I took careful note of everything I saw. A few Frost Fang wolves moved about their daily tasks, but there was a tension in the air, a wrongness I couldn’t quite place. They all avoided eye contact, hurrying past with their heads down.

Other shifters stood unnaturally still, watching us with vacant eyes. When I met their empty gazes, theirs didn’t drop. And everywhere, I caught sight of more and more witches.

“It’s worse than we thought,” I reported to the others.

“How many affected?” Gage’s voice came through, tight with anger.

“At least a dozen that I’ve seen so far, in various ways. Some seem more like puppets than wolves. There are witches everywhere.”

Sudden movement caught my eye as a young shifter collapsed on the ground near one of the cabins, his body convulsing. A witch stood over him, holding a dim stone that glowed with an eerie light. The wolf’s agonized whimpers reached my ears, and it took everything in me not to run to him.

I forced myself to look away, clenching my fists at my sides.

Remember why you’re here, I told myself. You can’t help him if you blow your cover now.

The combined possessive fury of Gage, Freya, and Zak washed over me at once, warming my soul.

“Be careful,” Freya warned. “ If your father suspects…”

“I know. I’ll play along, gather as much information as I can.”

“Just call out if you want me to wreak havoc.” Rowan’s violent offer soothed me.

We reached the pack house, and the witch led me inside. Frost Fang shifters stood at attention along the walls of the throne room, their eyes glazed over, while witches moved freely among them. No one sat on the throne, but at its foot, at the center of it all, stood my father.

Dryden looked exactly as I remembered him — tall and imposing, a complexion paler than mine, with the same silver-streaked dark, shaggy haircut as always. His dark caramel eyes that always concealed his true intentions fixed on me the moment I entered.

Beside him stood Tork. A smug smile played across the lips of my former lover from Moonblessed.

My heart sank. They’d been waiting for me.

“Heathcliff,” Dryden said, a smile spreading across his face that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “My son returns at last.”

He nodded to Mabel, and she left, taking the two shifters with her.

I swallowed the growl that threatened to escape. “Father.”

Tork’s smirk widened as he met my gaze. “Hello, Heath. Long time no see.”

My eyes dropped to his wrist, where his Moonblessed pack mark and tattoo remained crossed through and obliterated. No new pack mark decorated his skin, which told me Dryden hadn’t bothered creating a pack of his own.

I didn’t give Tork the courtesy of a response. Every instinct screamed at me to run, but I forced myself to remain calm. Maybe I could still salvage this, but I would have to play it very carefully.

“I must admit,” Dryden said, circling me like a predator, “I thought I might have to drag you away from that ragtag pack of yours.”

I refused to act like prey and turn to face him, to keep him in my sight. Instead, I forced a bitter laugh.

“Things change.”

“Indeed they do.” He stopped in front of me, studying my face. “You look… different. There’s something about you that’s changed since I saw you last.”

I met his gaze steadily. “A lot has happened.”

“So I’ve heard. Why are you here?”

Tork remained silently smirking, which unnerved me more than if he’d spoken. My father had no doubt planned this meeting to try to catch me in my lies. I needed to get ahead of it .

“I’ve been thinking about what you said about political alliances. About my future.”

Dryden’s eyebrow arched in surprise. “Have you now? And what prompted this sudden change of heart?”

This was where I needed to be careful. Too much truth would reveal my intentions, but too many lies would trigger my father’s keen senses in spite of the satchel Zak had given me.

“Freya has taken even more mates,” I said, which was true enough.

“Ah, yes. The infamous Freya.” Dryden’s lips curled in distaste. “When Tork told me about your little performance at that pack meeting, I wondered if Freya orchestrated some of it.”

My blood turned to ice. “You can’t trust anything Tork says,” I growled, glaring at the beta shifter. “He’s betrayed more than one pack already.”

Tork smirked. “It’s true my allegiance has changed again, but only because Dryden’s plans make sense. I prefer to be on the winning side. Seems like I’m not the only one.”

“So, tell me, son, who am I supposed to believe?”

“Your son, obviously,” I growled with indignation I didn’t even have to feign.

“What do you think, Tork?” Dryden asked, his eyes on me. “You know my son better than most.”

Tork’s voice dripped with satisfaction. “I’ve already told your father you can’t be turned. And unlike you, I can’t lie to an alpha’s face.”

My carefully constructed plan crumbled in an instant.

Tork’s smile was all teeth. “They all follow that bitch around like a bunch of love-sick puppies. Wolves mate in pairs, and I don’t want to imagine your disgusting orgies with that half-breed bitch.”

Rage exploded through me, my wolf clawing at my restraint. “You don’t talk about her—”

“I gave you so many opportunities, but you refused them all, son.” Dryden’s expression hardened, any pretense of fatherly warmth evaporating. “I even tried to convince Luka to spare you when he killed the rest of your pack. ”

“You allied with him?” That was news to me, especially since he was a problem we’d already disposed of, quite literally.

“I wouldn’t call it much of an alliance,” Dryden groused. “He was supposed to attack on the full moon with my help, but that idiot jumped the gun and attacked on a holiday.”

He waved it off.

“I always hoped you might see reason and join me willingly. After all, the witches are developing a method to control the more… volatile elements of our kind. Think of the Denraider pack, with their unchecked aggression and relentless hunger to conquer other packs. Wouldn’t the world be safer if they could be contained? ”