Page 34 of Stargazer

“We’ve got a description and a blurry photo. Amelia tried to take one but we need her to be trusted so we haven’t pushed her to try further until we’re ready to pull her out. But it needs to be timed and planned. So until then, we’ve convinced her to lay low and do what she’s told. We don’t want to raise suspicions before we have as much intel as possible. He’s a large man, early thirties it seems. Cinnamon coloured hair and caramel eyes that are reflected in his wolf form apparently. I’ve personally never seen him in any of my interactions with other packs—maybe a lower-level wolf that wanted more?” He shrugged. “But we have no idea where he’s originally from. It could be anywhere. Makes it harder to figure out his motive.”

He slid something along the table towards us which Griff caught. A blown up, blurry picture of the man described, walking somewhere, like Amelia had taken it from her car or hiding behind something. No recognisable face or features.

“Can I show this to the Knights?” Griffin asked, voice low and gravelly.

“Be my guest,” Riv replied. “We have copies.”

“Maybe he’s already on your radar?” Dalton asked, his interest seemingly piqued for the first time since the meeting had commenced.

Griff looked up at him and then nodded. “There’s a chance.” He rubbed his chin as he resumed examining the picture further. “I’d have to get Thea and the other officials to take a look. He doesn’t look familiar to me.”

The strategy meeting turned into a lunch, because we all knew that the wolves loved to eat. The formal nature of the meeting clearly wasn’t their style and I didn’t complain when they ushered us to the decking outside and promised a meal while we continued our discussion.

Griffin grudgingly followed.

Whenever there were this many people around the pack house, a barbecue was always the go-to in order to feed all the hungry, yet never-satiated, mouths.

It felt like old times.

Except for the odd fact that Griff was here.

Yet his presence somewhat soothed me—regardless of the butterflies that never seemed to fade.

He himself did not seem soothed or relaxed in his current situation. He lingered on the outskirts of the group, finding the railing of the deck a suitable spot to lean on. He wasn’t visibly stressed or strained, his outward appearance still holding his usual air of effortless confidence, but he seemed more than happy to put space between himself and his current company.

The deck out the back was large. It needed to be in order to accommodate the pack. The raised platform that the glass dining room doors opened out to was bordered by a wooden rail on either side before a few steps led down into the sprawl of grass beyond. Around us was an array of seating options and an outdoor table, ideal for days like today when there was enough of us around but not as many as the monthly bonfires.

While River took up his usual spot manning the barbecue, I remembered what Thea had said in her office when she gave me the update on my hometown and their rogue problem. There had been so much to digest and discuss the last week that my brain was in a scramble to remember all the questions I had swirling around up there. So whenever a new one popped up, I needed to jump on the opportunity to ask it or I’d lose the train of thought to the chaos that was our lives.

Turning to River, my eyes twinkled in nostalgic amusement when I saw the apron he wore, giving me an intense wave of Déjà vu. Kiss the Cook.

I had ordered it the night of that bonfire but didn’t stick around long enough to actually see him wear it until now.

I smiled knowingly at him.

“Nice apron,” I said softly.

“It was bought for me by someone with amazing taste,” he grinned, dimples and all, and it felt like I was the only person in the world. Or at least the only one in his magnetising orbit. I had forgotten what that felt like with the lovable Alpha. His allure.

Until a pointed cough from Griff pulled me out of it.

I looked in the Knight’s direction, and sure enough he was surveying the item of our attention with an unamused expression.

It sobered me up enough to ask the question I needed to. I cleared my throat. “We heard rumours of more deaths in Saint Claire. It was how Thea and the others like my mum put two and two together about the rogues being a problem here. Is it true?”

His brows pinched before he answered, though he kept his gaze down on the food he was tending too. “Yes, failed transformations. Not only in Saint Claire but in some of the other smaller towns too. Mostly in Woodstock though. Since it’s bigger, they got away with more.”

“How many deaths here?” I asked.

“Two. But almost three,” he stated solemnly. “There’s been a few other cases of missing people in the area though, which means they likely succeeded in some of their transitions. There was just no physical proof for us to find.”

“And you couldn’t stop them?” It was Griffin who now questioned the Alpha from across the deck and I bristled at the accusation in his tone.

“We tried. But the rogues have better wolf senses then us, and larger numbers it seems. Every time we think we know where they’re going to strike, we seem to miss them. Plus, if a transition was unsuccessful, they’d just try another one while we were distracted. We managed to save one, based on Amelia’s intel of where they’d be attacking.”

“Was it anyone we know?” I dared to ask, not really wanting to know the answer yet needing to.

“Not the deaths. Sage’s younger brother was the ‘almost’. Their ancestry has the wolf gene, so they probably scented it on him and figured he’d survive the change even though he’s shown no sign of shifting himself yet.”

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