Page 21

Chapter

Eighteen

T he creature's wings sliced through the night air with a sound like tearing silk.

Mia's lungs burned as she pushed her legs harder, following the flash of red that was Charlotte ahead of her.

The vampire hunter moved with inhuman grace, each stride covering twice what Mia's could despite her alpha strength.

But even as Mia ran, something else burned beneath her ribs—a dull ache that had nothing to do with exertion. The mate bond, usually a warm presence in her chest, felt wrong. Stretched thin like old elastic about to snap.

Jim.

Her wolf whined, clawing at her control. Mate hurts. Go back. Find him.

Can't, Mia forced herself to focus on Charlotte's red coat disappearing between the trees. Have to catch this thing first.

The scent of iron and decay clung to the back of her throat.

Whatever this creature was—this hybrid abomination that had killed their only witness—it wasn't natural.

The wrongness of its scent made her wolf bristle beneath her skin, but not as much as the wrongness pulsing through her bond with Jim.

"Cut left!" Charlotte called back, her voice oddly melodic even when shouting commands.

Without hesitation, Mia veered through a stand of eucalyptus trees, the sharp menthol scent momentarily clearing her head.

The cool night air lashed against her heated skin as fallen leaves crunched beneath her boots.

Her enhanced hearing picked up the creature's frantic wing beats growing louder as it approached a clearing ahead.

Charlotte was already there, a small crossbow raised in one fluid motion. The bolt hissed through the air, catching the creature's wing. It screeched—a sound that vibrated painfully in Mia's skull—before tumbling to the ground in a heap of twisted limbs.

Mia slowed to a jog as she approached, her muscles twitching with leftover adrenaline.

The creature was smaller than it had appeared in flight, perhaps the size of a large dog, but with leathery wings and skin that seemed to shift between scales and fur.

Its eyes glowed red in the darkness, fixing on her with unmistakable hatred.

Another pulse of wrong shot through the bond. Mia's hand went to her chest, pressing against the ache.

"What is it?" Mia asked, careful to keep her distance. The tang of blood—both the creature's and something else—filled her nostrils. Something that smelled like Jim's blood, which was impossible because he was back at the pack house, safe, except the bond said otherwise?—

Charlotte didn't answer. In one swift motion, she drew a blade from beneath her crimson coat and plunged it into the creature's chest. The knife glowed with runes that Mia recognized as ancient vampire magic—similar to what Jasmine had identified on Jim's skin.

"What the hell?" Mia lunged forward, but too late.

The creature convulsed, black ichor bubbling from its mouth as Charlotte twisted the blade. Its death wasn't quick. It wasn't merciful. Charlotte's face remained impassive, but her eyes burned with a fury that made Mia take an involuntary step back.

When the creature finally stilled, Charlotte wiped her blade on the grass with practiced precision. The air around them seemed to pulse with lingering magic, raising the fine hairs on Mia's arms.

"We needed to question it," Mia said, her voice tight with controlled anger. "That thing killed our only lead."

"It couldn't tell you anything useful." Charlotte sheathed her blade, the motion smooth as water.

"And how would you know that?" Heat rushed to Mia's cheeks as her jaw clenched. The bond pulsed again—sharp, wrong, making her wolf pace frantically. "This is my territory, my investigation."

Charlotte turned to face her fully, moonlight catching on her perfect features. "Your territory has been compromised for months. You're playing catch-up in a game you don't understand."

"Then enlighten me." Mia crossed her arms, ignoring the way her claws had started to emerge, pricking at her palms. "Or did you just come to Wolf Valley to be cryptic and kill potential witnesses?"

A smile ghosted across Charlotte's face. "Is that what bothers you? Or is it that I know Jim better than you do?"

The words hit like a physical blow. Mia's wolf surged forward, a growl rumbling up from her chest. "You don't know anything about me or Jim."

"I know he left everything behind to protect you." Charlotte circled Mia slowly, each step deliberate. "I know what it cost him. I know the way he'd wake screaming your name after particularly bad time slips."

Mia's heartbeat faltered. "He—what?"

"Every. Single. Night." Charlotte's red eyes glinted. "For months. 'Mia, no.' 'Not her.' 'I won't let them take her.' Over and over until I had to soundproof his room."

The bond throbbed, and suddenly Mia could taste copper in her mouth. Jim's blood. She was tasting Jim's blood through their connection.

Mate! Her wolf howled. Dying! Go now!

"You're lying," Mia forced out, even as her knees trembled.

"Why would I bother?" Charlotte stopped, her gaze piercing. "The man drew your face on every surface he could find. Bar napkins, steamed windows, sand on beaches. I once caught him sketching you in his own blood after a particularly nasty vampire bite because he couldn't find paper."

The image crashed into Mia like a freight train—Jim, bleeding and desperate, still trying to capture her face.

"These creatures—" Charlotte nudged the corpse with her boot, "—have been hunting Jim since before he left Wolf Valley. I've spent centuries tracking them and the ones who make them."

"Centuries?" Mia's brow furrowed, but her attention split as another wave of wrongness flooded the bond. Poison. She could feel poison burning through Jim's veins.

"Did you think vampire hunters aged like humans?" Charlotte's voice dripped with condescension. "Jim didn't tell you much, did he?"

The wolf inside Mia howled and scratched beneath her skin, demanding release. Her fingers flexed at her sides, telekinetic energy crackling just beneath the surface. The air around them grew heavy, the way it did before a storm.

"You don't get to waltz in here in your designer clothes with your perfect hair and your centuries of experience and judge me," Mia snapped, even as her voice shook. "Where were you when the pack needed protection? Where were you when Jim was poisoned?"

The last word came out before she could stop it. Charlotte's expression didn't change, but something shifted in her eyes.

"Poisoned?" Charlotte's voice sharpened. "When?"

"Now," Mia gasped as the bond flared with agony. "Right now. I can feel it—vampire venom mixed with something else. It's burning through him and I'm standing here talking when I should be?—"

"Then why are you still here?" Charlotte demanded.

"I have responsibilities beyond Wolf Valley," Mia said.

"So do I!" The branch of a nearby tree cracked and fell as Mia's telekinesis flared. "I'm responsible for every wolf in this territory. I'm responsible for the humans who don't even know we exist. And I'm doing it without your magical vampire-hunting gadgets or your immortal wisdom."

Charlotte tilted her head, studying Mia with the intensity of someone who had centuries to perfect the art of seeing through people. "You know what I see when I look at you? A woman trying to prove herself worthy of a position everyone thinks she lucked into."

The words landed like a slap. Too close to the bone.

"You don't know anything about me," Mia said, but her voice lacked conviction.

"I know the way female leaders are judged." Charlotte's voice took on an edge of bitter experience. "Too soft, you're weak. Too hard, you're a bitch. Show emotion, you're unstable. Show none, you're cold. Every decision scrutinized twice as harshly."

Mia swallowed hard. How many times had she second-guessed herself, wondering if the Council would have questioned a male alpha's decisions the way they questioned hers? How many times had she worked twice as hard just to be taken half as seriously?

"And then," Charlotte continued, "when you finally think you've found your footing, someone swoops in who seems to have it all figured out." She gestured to herself with ironic flair. "Someone who makes it look effortless."

"Is that what this is about?" Charlotte stepped closer. "Or are you just jealous?"

The truth of it hit Mia like a punch to the gut.

Of course she was jealous. Charlotte was everything she wasn't—graceful, confident, powerful without effort.

She'd shared a year of Jim's life that Mia knew nothing about.

A year where they'd hunted vampires together, fought side by side, developed the kind of trust that only comes from facing death together.

"Fine." Mia threw up her hands, even as the bond screamed at her to run.

"Yes, I'm jealous. Is that what you want to hear?

I'm jealous that you had him when I thought he'd just abandoned me.

" Her voice cracked. "I'm jealous that you got to see him every day while I spent nights wondering if he was even alive. "

A flicker of recognition crossed Charlotte's face.

"He talked about you constantly," Charlotte said quietly. "Do you want to know what he said?"

Despite everything—the poison burning through Jim, the creature's corpse at their feet, the danger closing in—Mia couldn't help herself. "Tell me."

"He said you smell like wild honey." Charlotte's voice softened.

"That your laugh could make flowers bloom in winter.

That you have seventeen different smiles and he'd catalogued every one.

" She paused. "He said the constellation of freckles on your left shoulder matches Cassiopeia, and that you only snore when you've had red wine. "

Tears burned Mia's eyes. Those were things only Jim would notice, only Jim would remember.

"He said you're terrible at making coffee but you try every morning anyway.

That you practice your alpha voice in the shower when you think no one's listening.

That you tear up during the sad parts of action movies but pretend it's allergies.

" Charlotte's expression was almost gentle now.

"He said loving you was like breathing—unconscious, necessary, the only thing keeping him alive. "

The bond flared white-hot with pain, and Mia doubled over.

"I love his stupid hair that sticks up no matter what," Mia gasped out.

"And his stupid protective streak that gets him hurt.

His stupid dry humor at the worst times.

The way he sketches on napkins when he's thinking.

How he makes everything an adventure, even grocery shopping.

" Her voice broke completely. "The way he looks at me like I'm his whole world, even when I was just a broken deadline wolf who couldn't shift. "

"Nothing happened between us," Charlotte said softly. "He was too busy being desperately in love with you."

A startled laugh escaped Mia's throat even as tears tracked down her cheeks. "You're serious?"

"Deadly." Charlotte's lips curved upward slightly. "Do you have any idea how tiresome it is to hunt vampires with someone who keeps slipping through time whenever he gets too emotional about the alpha he left behind? I once lost him for three days because he saw someone with your hair color."

The admission hung in the air between them, unexpected and somehow more powerful for coming from Charlotte.

Mia smiled.

"Do you know what I miss most after all these years hunting vampires?

" Charlotte asked, her voice suddenly raw.

"Connection. Real connection. The kind where someone knows your darkness and stays anyway.

" She looked up, meeting Mia's eyes. "I've had colleagues, allies, occasional lovers.

But friends? Someone who knows me—not just what I can do for them?

That luxury fades when you outlive everyone you care about. "

"You've built something here that I couldn't," Charlotte continued, gesturing vaguely toward Wolf Valley. "A community. Real relationships. People who would fight for you, not just beside you. Jim saw that in you from the beginning—your ability to create home wherever you are."

"It wasn't easy," Mia admitted. "Still isn't."

Charlotte's lips quirked up in a half-smile. "Nothing worth having ever is."

For a brief moment, Mia felt something shift between them—understanding, maybe even the beginning of respect.

Then the bond didn't just pulse—it screamed.

Pain lanced through her chest like a hot blade. Her knees buckled as she gasped for air that wouldn't come. The mate bond—the soul link she'd finally admitted existed—was shredding apart like tissue paper in a hurricane.

"Mia?" Charlotte was at her side instantly, supporting her weight.

"Jim," she managed, panic and copper flooding her throat. She could feel it now—the poison reaching his heart, his body convulsing on cold concrete, his last thought her name. "He's dying. The vampire venom—it's killing him and I'm too far away and?—"

"Where?" Charlotte's voice turned to steel.

Mia closed her eyes, following the fraying thread of their bond. It pulled toward the pack house, but wrong, underground?—

"The cellar," she gasped. "He's in the cellar and he's—" Another wave of agony. "He's calling for me. Through the bond. He's trying to warn—Matthews. It's Matthews."

Charlotte's face hardened into the mask of the hunter once more. Without a word, she scooped Mia up as if she weighed nothing.

"What are you?—"

"I can run faster than you right now," Charlotte said simply, already moving at inhuman speed. "And every second counts."

Mia didn't argue. She pressed her hand to her chest, pouring every ounce of her will through the bond. Hold on. I'm coming. Don't you dare leave me, Jim Miracles. Not when I just got you back.

The world blurred past as Charlotte ran, but all Mia could feel was the bond growing thinner, Jim's heartbeat stuttering against hers.

Mo stór, came the weakest whisper through their connection. Always yours.

"No," Mia snarled, her wolf rising to the surface. "You don't get to say goodbye. Not like this."

But she could feel him fading, feel the poison winning, feel her heart preparing to shatter.

And Matthews—Matthews had done this. The alpha who'd smiled and brought gifts and pretended to court her had poisoned her mate.

When they reached Jim— when , not if—Matthews would learn what happened when you touched what belonged to an alpha.

Her wolf bared its teeth in agreement.

Nobody touches our mate and lives.