CLAYTON
It’s good to see Lucas again.
I clasp his forearm firmly, feeling the tension ripple through his muscles as we pull each other into a one-armed hug. The solid thump of my palm against his back carries more meaning than words could express between alphas. Our history sits between us like a third presence—unspoken but undeniable.
"It’s good to see you, Lucas."
The words come easily, despite everything. Despite Ivy. Despite Ava. The complicated web binding us together has never fully untangled. Some boundaries, once crossed, leave permanent markers on a relationship.
Lucas studies my face, his golden eyes searching mine. Whatever he finds there seems to satisfy him—his shoulders drop a fraction of an inch, the line of his jaw softens.
The subtle shift speaks volumes to someone who’s known him as long as I have.
It’s been months, and my infatuation has faded. Even my wolf is calm in my head, no longer possessive over the whiffs of her scent, prolific in this place.
I thought coming here would be tinged with a little more sadness. A little more regret. Instead, I only feel fondness as I see my friend’s face.
Their bond burned bright. It seems to have only grown brighter in the time I’ve seen them, and the horrors their pack has endured. Their kind of connection is rare. Worth protecting.
And in today’s world, allies who can be trusted without question are worth more than any territory or power.
Wolf’s Landing sprawls before us, a patchwork of temporary structures and permanent foundations. Not what I expected from Lucas’ pack—more improvised than I thought.
Signs of recent conflict mark the landscape: construction, mainly, and the weary look on faces walking by. They’re on alert, but the danger keeps wearing at them.
No matter how strong a pack is, repeated conflict will always wear down our people.
A young wolf—Wes, Lucas called him—leads my group toward the eastern edge of the settlement, and my wolves follow in silence, taking in every detail with wary eyes. None of us expected to be here under these circumstances.
Lucas and I break off from the group.
"Clayton, I—" Lucas clears his throat. "I’m sorry we couldn’t keep Ivy safe."
The pain hits sharp and sudden, like a blade between my ribs. My sister. My responsibility. Gone.
"Death waits for all of us, one way or another." The words are bitter, but they’re true. As shifters, we live with this certainty. "Some paths just end sooner than others."
It doesn’t mean her loss doesn’t hurt. I just can’t let it hold me down.
Wolf’s Landing smells like trees and winter. Snow is piled here, packed down over time and covering the landscape in white. It’s very different from Aspen territory.
Strange how the body notices these details even when the mind is numb with grief.
"What do you know about this dream-eater?" I ask, forcing my thoughts toward practical matters. "Do you believe what Ava says—that Ivy is truly gone?"
Lucas sighs, his breath creating a small cloud in the cold air. His scent shifts subtly—frustration, uncertainty, anger tightly controlled.
"In this strange world we’re living in now, it only makes sense." He gestures vaguely around us. "The rules keep changing. What we thought we knew..."
He doesn’t finish the thought. He doesn’t need to.
"I need to see it." The request—demand—comes out harsher than I mean for it to, and I haul my grief back with an iron fist. Lucas doesn’t seem to mind.
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