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“The world is always changing. We can either evolve with it or become obsolete. I fear that there will be some of us who have aged past the point of being able to accept the changes.” ~ Boain

T he shadows of the alley seemed to stretch and twist around Lorna and Boain, as if they sought to choke out the light.

Lorna’s sharp eyes scanned the dim scene before her, the faint glow of a single streetlight illuminating the beings.

Her mate, Boain, stood at her side, his broad shoulders tense, his wolf just beneath the surface.

She could feel his emotions swirling through their bond: anger, frustration, and a bone-deep weariness that mirrored her own.

“How are there so many?” Lorna whispered as she glanced at the crumbling apartment complex ahead. The hybrids inside, the grotesque offspring of vampire and werewolf DNA, moved like shadows themselves, their movements too quick, too calculated.

Boain’s jaw tightened as he leaned against the brick wall beside her, his golden eyes glowing faintly in the dark.

“Cain must have figured out a way for them to transition faster.” His voice was low, a rumble she felt in her chest. “Or maybe the wolf DNA accelerates the process when mixed with the vampire. Either way, it’s a problem that’s multiplying faster than we can keep up with. ”

Lorna nodded. “Months of hunting these things feels like years. Fighting them, tracking them, trying to save the dormants who haven’t lost themselves to the darkness yet. It’s like trying to put out a forest fire with a garden hose.”

Boain opened his mouth to respond, but a soft vibration cut through the tension. His phone. Even with their supernatural senses, the sound was enough to make them flinch. Boain pulled the device from his pocket, his movements sharp and precise.

“Hello?” His voice was clipped, carrying that edge of authority that came so naturally to him.

Lorna watched him carefully, her wolf hearing straining to catch the voice on the other end.

But whoever it was had lowered their tone, keeping the conversation private—smart, considering the hybrids lurking just a stone’s throw away.

She didn’t need to hear the words to know something was wrong.

She felt it through their bond: the sudden spike of tension, the way his free hand moved to her waist, gripping her like she was his anchor in a storm.

His jaw clenched, and his eyes began to glow brighter, his wolf rising to the surface as his emotions churned.

“How long ago?” Boain’s voice was sharper now, more urgent. He shifted on his feet, like a predator barely holding himself back from lunging. Lorna placed her hand on his chest, her touch soothing but firm, grounding him as much as he was grounding her.

“What do you mean you’re trapped in the sprite realm?” he demanded, his brow furrowing deeply. “All the veils are closed?”

His words sent a chill racing down Lorna’s spine. Closed veils were never a good sign. They weren’t just barriers. They were locks. And locked veils only ever meant one thing: chaos.

Her stomach twisted as Boain’s emotions bled through their bond; anger, fear, and disbelief, all swirling together in a storm that threatened to pull her under. She tightened her hold on him, silently reminding him that she was there, and that they were in this together. Always.

“Who’s with you?” Boain barked into the phone, his grip tightening until Lorna thought the device might shatter in his hand.

“So, Tyler, and Jeff are all still in the US?” He paused, listening intently.

“Have you contacted them? Good. Just one question. How the hell are you calling me on a cell phone from the sprite realm if the veils are sealed?”

Lorna blinked, her brows lifting in surprise. That was … a good question.

Boain’s lips twitched into a humorless smirk. “I suppose we forget that Peri isn’t the only powerful high fae. Only because she flaunts it in our faces every chance she gets.”

He listened for another moment, nodding once before ending the call.

He lowered the phone, his grip still iron-tight, and stared at the ground.

His jaw worked as he processed whatever bombshell had just been dropped.

Lorna waited, giving him the space he needed.

She knew better than to push. He’d tell her everything once he’d processed it.

Finally, he looked up, his golden eyes locking onto hers. “That was Gwen.” His voice was low but steady. “One of the high fae. She, Maxim, Alice, Finn, Lizzy, and Cindy Morgan are trapped in the sprite realm. Fane and a group of the pack went after Celise, but they never returned.”

Lorna’s heart skipped a beat. “The unhinged sprite,” she whispered.

Boain nodded grimly. “The same. Gwen barely made it into the sprite realm before it was sealed. She tried getting into the fae and djinn realms first, but those were locked, too.”

Lorna’s mind raced, piecing together the fragments of information. “And the other US alphas you mentioned? They’re still in the human realm?”

Boain’s expression darkened. “Yes. I don’t know how much they know. I imagine that they certainly aren’t aware that a gypsy healer that was in bed with Celise caused all of this.”

Lorna’s breath caught. “Which healer would work with her?”

Boain’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Jewel Black, according to Gwen. But the details are scarce. If we can figure out where all of this went down, we might come across some witnesses. There are eyes everywhere. Peri’s favorites happen to be pixies.”

Lorna shook her head as disbelief washed over her. Jewel, a healer, siding with a sprite who’d embraced darkness? It seemed impossible. And yet…

“What are we going to do?” Lorna’s voice trembled slightly.

She glanced over her shoulder toward the hybrids, their movements barely visible through the broken windows of the building.

The task she and Boain had been given—to hunt and destroy these abominations—suddenly felt secondary to the storm brewing on the horizon.

Boain reached out, cupping her cheek with surprising gentleness. The contrast between his touch and the barely contained rage in his eyes was startling. “We’re going to do what we always do.” His determination bled through their bond. “Whatever it takes to protect our pack.”

He laced his fingers through hers, pulling her close as they turned to leave the alley.

“I didn’t smell any fae near that group of hybrids,” he explained, his tone all business now.

“So, let’s find another nest. If there’s a fae warrior anywhere nearby, we’ll find them.

And then we’ll figure out how to fix this mess. ”

Lorna nodded, her resolve hardening. The hybrids might be a problem, but the bigger threat was clear now. They had to get their pack and allies back. And she and Boain would face it together, no matter what it took.

* * *

T yler paced from one end of the living room to the other, a steady growl building in his chest. The last thing on earth he’d expected to get was a phone call from a high fae telling him that Fane and his people were missing.

In his long life he’d seen so much pain.

He’d thought the worst of it was Vasile and Alina’s deaths, but if Fane died that might very well be the end of the Canis lupus.

There would be no leader to keep the dominant males in check.

Chaos would reign, and a war between supernaturals would take over the human realm.

Tyler’s phone rang, dragging him from his morbid thoughts. He snarled at the device he’d carelessly tossed onto the couch, as if it was the cause of all his worry. He snatched it up and tapped the screen. “What?”

“Nice to hear your voice, too, Tyler.” Jeff Stone’s deep, southern drawl came through the speaker, calm and measured as always. But Tyler didn’t miss the tension beneath it. The Texas alpha wasn’t one to mince words or make small talk, especially when something serious was afoot.

“Jeff.” Tyler scrubbed a hand down his face. He forced himself to take a breath, to loosen the tight coil of anger and worry in his chest. “What’s going on?” He glanced at the clock on the mantel and noted that it was midnight. “This isn’t exactly a social hour.”

“No, it’s not. I just got off the phone with one of my trackers. They’ve been poking around some of the supernatural hangouts in Houston, and I’m hearing things that aren’t sitting right with me.”

Tyler’s pacing stopped, and he turned to face the crackling fire in the hearth.

The flames danced, casting shadows across the room, but the warmth did little to ease the chill creeping up his spine.

Was there more going on than what he’d already learned?

Could there possibly be something worse than the alpha of all alphas and his mate going missing? “What kind of things?” he demanded.

“Things like Fane’s pack being gone.” Jeff’s bluntness hit Tyler like a physical blow all over again. Why was hearing it spoken out loud so much worse than just knowing it in his mind? “Not just gone, Tyler. Disappeared. Vanished without a trace.”

Tyler’s grip on the phone tightened until the plastic casing creaked in protest. “I already know about Fane,” he ground out. “A high fae contacted me this morning. Said he and his group are missing. What else have you heard?”

There was a pause on Jeff’s end, the kind that made Tyler’s wolf bristle with impatience. “There’s talk of a sprite named Celise.” Jeff’s tone was grim. “She’s claiming to have something called the Book of the Dead. You ever heard of it?”