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Prologue

T he frogs and bugs owned the night. For a while, they were the only ones who said anything. The silence was deafening.

Marric stewed in his juices, watching the stars as he sat on the step of the front porch.

A satellite burned up in the atmosphere. It resembled a shooting star. It crossed his mind to make a wish just in case, but a star streaking across the sky was really just wishing upon the star’s death.

Dad sat in the rocker, sipping last year’s moonshine. The rocking chair squeaked on the wooden porch boards. It was a reminder of his closeness.

“Is Starry in the field still?” His dad broke the silence.

Kinnison Ransome couldn’t talk about the real problem.

It had to be something minor that didn’t matter as much.

He was good at burying his problems so deep he didn’t even know what the real issue actually was.

And then he would blow up like a damned bomb.

Marric had always cleaned up the pieces.

Maybe he should stop pandering to his dad’s bad mood.

“I’ll get her.” Marric stood. Even though it was Emery’s responsibility because Starry was her horse and their dad’s attempt at teaching his teenage daughter a thing or two about adulthood.

At least that’s what Dad thought he was doing.

And maybe he was. But Marric didn’t think it mattered much who put Starry in her stall every night.

“She won’t learn anything if you continue to do her chores.” The chair creaked when Dad stood. He opened the front door and stuck his head inside. “Emery Nadine Ransome, get your ass outside.”

Marric sighed and shook his head. “She’s fifteen years old, Dad. She’s not supposed to be responsible yet.”

“What would you know about it? You’re not exactly the pillar of responsibility. You’re not running patrols with the others.” And there it was. The blowup. The reason for the tension. His dad, knowing what the actual issue was, surprised him. Kinnison Ransome could be dense sometimes.

“I’ll go on patrol when you let me move from the house.” Marric knew what was coming next. Kinnison would talk about Marric taking over as alpha someday, like he was a damned prince. But he didn’t get a chance because Emery ran down the stairs and stood by the door.

She met their dad’s gaze and rolled her eyes before she even spoke. “What?”

“Starry’s still in the pasture. It’s your responsibility to make sure she’s in the barn every night.”

Emery held up her hand. “Yeah, yeah. It won’t kill her to be out all night. Her stall door is open. But I’ll put her inside. Just to show you I’m responsible.” She exaggerated the last word and rolled her eyes a second time.

“I’ll help you.” Marric smirked at his dad as he followed Emery across the yard to the pasture.

Kinnison mumbled under his breath about having mouthy kids.

“I’m not a kid anymore, Dad,” Marric yelled. What he really wanted to do was flip Kinnison off, but he had more respect than that.

“Well, start acting like it.”

Marric stopped and walked backwards. If it wasn’t for the yard light hanging from the barn, Marric would have been in the shadows. A couple more steps and he would be. “How am I acting like a child, Kinnison?”

“It’s Dad to you, Marric Steven.”

Marric saluted, which he knew pissed Kinnison off. “Oh, right. Sorry, general. Or I mean, Alpha.”

“You aren’t as grown up as you think, boy.

” Kinnison folded his arms over his chest. He wore a black T-shirt that stretched across his huge pecs, and he stood heights above the average person.

He was at least a foot taller than Marric.

Kinnison took up more space than any person had a right to.

His scowl was permanent. He even had it when he smiled, not that he’d had a reason to be in a good enough mood to change his face lately. Not since Victoria died.

“Well, maybe if you let me move out of your fucking house, I’ll finally start living up to your standards.” Marric stumbled when Emery grabbed his arm and pulled him into the barn.

The last thing he saw before entering the dark building was Kinnison’s face turning a very unhealthy shade of red, and he growled. He didn’t say anything, but Marric knew the argument well enough. Kinnison didn’t have to speak a word. They’d been yelling about the same thing for a solid year.

Marric sighed. “One of these days, I’m just going to do it.”

“Do what?” Emery petted Mocha on her nose when Mocha stuck her head over the stall door. “We’ll go for a nice run tomorrow, girl. I promise.”

“Move out.”

“Dad would literally hunt you down and make you come home.” He couldn’t see Emery roll her eyes, but he knew she did.

It was her favorite power move. “I don’t know why you want to move, anyway.

You and Dad fight a lot, but if you’d let moving go just for a second, you’d see he just loves you and doesn’t want you to leave. You do a lot around here.”

She didn’t have to say ‘the way Dad lost Tory.’ Their sister’s death hung between them. Wolf shifters were difficult to kill, especially one who was also a witch. But Tory’s death had been swift and without mercy.

Kinnison had been hanging by a thread since. He wrapped Marric in worry, as if expecting the same thing to happen to him. In his mind, Marric becoming the alpha of the pack would keep him safe. Power meant strength to Kinnison Ransome.

“He can’t protect me from everything.” Marric held Starry’s stall door open for Emery as she entered.

“You know he’s going to try. It’s not about you moving anyway. It’s about your baby making abilities and about you being alpha someday.” She clicked her tongue. Horse hooves pounded on the ground right before Starry entered the stall, stopping right in front of the door.

“My baby making abilities are nonexistent. And I’m not an alpha. I don’t want to be. The pack should choose. Just like they have before.” Tory’s death shouldn’t have factored into pack politics, but it did. She had been the firstborn. She would have been a great alpha. Marric paled in comparison.

Marric smelled blood. He partially shifted. His hands turned into claws, and he shifted his eyes so he could see better.

Marric chanted, putting up a protective spell around Emery and Starry. “Is she injured?”

Emery patted her down, running her hands along Starry’s back and down her legs. “I don’t feel anything. But I smell it too. It smells herbal.”

Marric sucked in a breath when a boy stumbled into the barn from the back entrance. He must have come in from the field.

“Go get Dad, Emery.” He caught the boy in his arms. He was slight and fragile, with torn clothing. He smelled as if he hadn’t washed in a long time.

The boy fell unconscious almost as soon as Marric picked him up.

He appeared to be around four or five. Despite his young age, magic poured off him in powerful waves.

Kinnison was already at the barn doors when they came out. “Bring him into the light.”

Marric did, holding him while Kinnison assessed him.

The boy had blood on his head and down his arms and legs. The blood on his limbs looked as though he’d climbed the pasture fence. The barbs could be brutal.

Kinnison sniffed the boy. “He’s a witch. A strong one. Dark magic.”

“There aren’t any dark witches in Timeston’s coven, right?”

“Not that I know about.” Kinnison’s scowl deepened. He moved the hair off the kid’s forehead. “Where did you come from, little one?”

The boy woke with a start. He sucked in a breath, and he stiffened.

“You’re safe,” Marric whispered. He tried to be as gentle as possible, but his instinct was to hold the kid tighter. He didn’t know where the boy was injured and didn’t want to cause him pain. “We’re not going to hurt you.”

The boy blinked up at him with big brown eyes. It was then Marric knew he’d do anything to protect the kid.

“Don’t let her hurt you.” And with that, he passed out again.