Page 6 of Moon Fated

Three

Evelyn

The Amtrak train hummed beneath me as I settled into my seat, the bustling activity of Seattle's King Street Station fading behind me. I stowed my luggage overhead, but the weight on my shoulders didn’t dissipate. As the train pulled out of the station, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the window—hazel eyes shadowed with worry, auburn hair pulled back in a haphazard ponytail.

Stunning, if I did say so myself.

I slumped into my seat and stared out the window. The jagged coastline unfolded before me, the Pacific Ocean an endless expanse of gray under the overcast sky. I leaned my forehead against the cool glass, attempting to lose myself in the rhythmic clatter of the train against the tracks. It was a losing battle. My mind refused to rest.

I reached for my phone, scrolling through my recent calls until I found the one I was looking for. Bruce. He'd been less than thrilled to cover my shifts for the week when I'd called in with a "family emergency." If only he knew the truth.

He hadn’t put up much of a fuss, especially after I reminded him of the countless times I'd covered his ass over the summer. His penchant for late nights and pretty faces had left me picking up the slack more times than he cared to admit.

But my current predicament made Bruce's indiscretions seem trivial. I was heading back to the one place I'd sworn I'd never return—back to my pack, back to the alpha who had made my life a living hell.

Memories flickered through my mind like a twisted slideshow. Dark eyes filled with malice, claws digging into flesh, the coppery scent of blood heavy in the air. I shuddered, pushing the images away. It had been five years since I'd left Kitimat, but the scars—both physical and emotional—still stung.

I turned my attention back to my phone, desperate for a distraction. A news headline caught my eye: "Another Unexplained Disappearance in Northern BC." My breath hitched. It wasn't the first story of its kind I'd seen recently. People vanishing without a trace, search parties turning up empty-handed. The humans chalked it up to the vast wilderness, to the dangers of the untamed forest or inexperienced tourists. But I knew better.

Shifters had lived among humans for centuries, hiding in plain sight. We looked like them, talked like them, blended into their world seamlessly. But there were signs if you knew where to look. Unexplainable things that hinted at something more lurking beneath the surface. The darkness we fought on their behalf.

I scanned the article, my heart sinking with each word. A hiker gone missing near Terrace, his campsite found abandoned, his supplies untouched. It was a story I'd heard before, but not since I was a kid. A rogue shifter or something more sinister?

I set my phone aside, my mind spinning. Was this what had led to Callista's disappearance? Had she stumbled upon something she shouldn't have? Trusted the wrong person?

The train pressed on, and I closed my eyes, steeling myself for what lay ahead.

The change in motion jolted me from a restless sleep. As the train pulled to a stop, I gathered my belongings and stepped onto the bustling street. The fresh air filled my lungs, a bittersweet reminder of the home I'd left behind. Seagulls circled overhead, their cries mingling with the chatter of tourists and locals alike.

Peak season in Vancouver. A perfect time to blend in…or get lost.

I wove through the crowd, my senses on high alert. It had been over a year since I set foot in this province, but the memories came flooding back with each step. The laughter of my packmates, the thrill of the hunt, the sense of belonging that had once filled my heart. But those days were long gone, shattered by the cruelty of an alpha who cared more for power and control than for his own people.

I made my way from Pacific Central Station to False Creek, my stomach grumbling. A small fish and chips stand caught my eye, and I joined the line of hungry patrons. As I waited, I scanned the faces around me, searching for any sign of recognition. But the people of Vancouver went about their lives, oblivious to the world that lurked just beyond their sight.

"What can I get for you?" The man behind the window looked like he’d just gotten off a rafting trip in Jasper.

"Fish and chips, please. And a Coke."

He nodded, setting to work on my order. I leaned against the counter, my gaze drifting to the harbor beyond. Boats bobbed in the water, their hulls painted in bright colors. A group of children tossed bread to the eager gulls, their laughter carrying on the breeze.

For a moment, I allowed myself to imagine a different life. One where I wasn't burdened by the guilt of leaving my pack, where I could live among the humans and pretend to be one of them. But the illusion was shattered as quickly as it had formed. I was a shifter, bound by duty and blood. There was no escaping that, no matter how far I ran or how deep I shoved my emotions.

I paid for my meal and found a bench to sit and eat. The fish was crispy, the chips hot and salty. I savored each bite, knowing it might be my last decent meal for a while. Where I was going, I wouldn’t be free to saunter into the cozy pubs or stand in the open waiting for a food truck.

As I finished my lunch, I pulled out my phone and called a rideshare. It was a long drive to the Kitimat territory, and I wasn't in the mood to navigate the winding roads myself. The car arrived a few minutes later, a sleek black sedan with a friendly driver at the wheel.

"Headed north, eh?" he asked, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Yep." I slid into the back seat after checking the license plate. I wasn’t in the mood for small talk.

He nodded, merging into traffic. As we left the bustling streets of Vancouver behind, the landscape morphed. Towering trees replaced skyscrapers, their branches reaching toward the sky. The air grew crisper, the world quieter.

"Beautiful country out here.” The driver’s voice broke the silence. "You're lucky if you call this place home."

I smiled wryly, my gaze fixed on the passing scenery. Lucky. The word made my face pinch. "It's a special place. But it’s not my home.” I kept my voice neutral. "The people here, they're connected to the land in a way most folks can't understand."

The driver nodded, his eyes alight with passion. "That's what I love about this part of the world. The respect for nature, the desire to protect what we have. It's not like that everywhere, you know? Some people, they just want to take and take until there's nothing left."

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