Page 33 of Forest Reed (Seals on Fraiser Mountain #8)

Zoe

The town had never been so quiet. No traffic. No chatter from the café. Even the church bells seemed muted. Just boots on pavement, radios crackling, and the tense hum of too many rifles in too small a space.

I walked the square beside Forest, my Glock steady at my side. Civilians peeked from windows, faces pale and worried. Kids pressed their noses to the glass of the school gym doors, wide-eyed.

“We’re scaring them,” I muttered.

Forest’s eyes swept the rooftops where Nate and Max took their posts. “Better scared than dead.”

Jason jogged up, adjusting the headset clipped to his collar. “Rooftops are clean. Roadblocks set. If North tries to come in, he’ll trip wires before he takes three steps.”

“Unless he’s already here,” I said, scanning the alleys, the shadows, the unfamiliar delivery vans parked too neatly along Main.

Forest’s hand brushed mine—a brief anchor, rough and grounding. “Then we flush him out.”

Unknown POV

In the dark belly of the school gym, a man shifted his crate of supplies against the wall. No one noticed him. No one questioned the uniform or the badge sewn crooked on his vest.

Children laughed nervously. Parents whispered. Deputies barked orders by the door.

He sat down, adjusting the false patch on his shoulder. His radio hissed once, soft, a signal only he understood.

Then he smiled.

Because while the wolves circled outside, North’s pack was already inside.