Jonah hesitated even though he knew what his answer would be. Had to be. But renting a place in town meant committing to this path, taking the first step down it. If he left now, he could be back at the White Winter house before lunch tomorrow and slip back into his old life, the one where he was just the omega.

But for how long? How long before the soothsayer’s fate dragged him back to the Silversands and threw him at Moira’s door? Running now was only delaying the inevitable.

“That’d be awesome,” Jonah said, hoping his voice sounded more believable to Rami than it did to him. To Jonah, it sounded like a man heading to the gallows.

“Just one sec,” Rami got up and vanished into the backroom again. The sound of muffled voices carried through the walls, not distinct enough to make out the words.

Trying to fight the rising panic in his gut, Jonah plucked a few more beach reads from the shelves. Their sunny, pastel covers promised happiness and serenity, two things that seemed far out of reach in his actual life. By the time Rami returned, Jonah had amassed a stack of books that required two hands to carry, which he plunked down on the desk.

“Alright, Jonah. She said she’d leave the keys on the kitchen counter for you. You’ll just need to drop by Mrs. Maybach’s house with a check on your way over.” Rami jotted two addresses down on a sheet of paper and ripped it out of the notebook, handing it over to Jonah. “This top one is the cafe, and the bottom one is her house. She’s a bit of a grouch, but don’t let that scare you; she’s got a soft heart. Keeps that place spotless, too.”

Jonah stared down at the torn paper and heard his blood thrum in his ears. “Thanks, man. You work fast.”

Rami chuckled and took the first book off Jonah’s stack, scanning the price. “There’s just not a whole lot going on in this town, so everyone knows everyone’s business, and no one is too busy to pick up the phone. Plus, this place is becoming a ghost town. I’ll do whatever I can to get some new life into it.”

Jonah shifted, uncomfortable. It was his father’s fault that the place was a ghost town. He imagined the mark of it on him like a giant red A, obvious to anyone who looked at him that he was the son of the Silversand Alpha, he carried his shame.

“Did you grow up here?” Jonah asked, trying to pull the conversation away from himself before Rami started asking questions.

Rami shook his head and started putting Jonah’s books into a tote bag marked with the store name. “No, actually. I lived in the city but got tired of all the noise and the people. I just wanted to be by the beach.”

“And you chose here?” Jonah raised his eyebrow. It wasn’t exactly the kind of town people fell in love with at first sight.

“Weird, I know, but I’ve got a thing for the underdog. And the rent was super cheap. I’ve got a spot right on the beach, and sure, it’s not much to look at, but the ocean is right there, so who’s looking at my house anyway? It’s worth the tradeoff for me.”

Jonah paid and took the tote bag, stuffed to its gills with his new books. “Well, this place is lucky to have you. You’ve got a great selection.”

“And I think you just about cleared us out,” Rami said, nodding his chin at Jonah’s tote bag. “I hope you’ll give this town a chance, Jonah. It might surprise you.”

Somehow, Jonah doubted that. He waved goodbye to Rami and stepped back onto Main Street, clutching the paper with the addresses in his fist. The town might have a place for him to stay, but the Silversand pack was another story. Why would they ever want Jonah back? With every step he took down the street, the soothsayer’s words rang in his head, the beat like a funeral dirge.

Chapter 6 - Moira

“What’s that smell?” Vera asked, pinching her nose. She was in her scrubs, stopping by for her usual donuts and coffee before work, a fluffy coat thrown over the top to fight the September chill.

“Oh no,” Moira cried, running to the oven. “Oh no, no, no.”

She yanked the tray out of the oven but it was too late—the pastries were burnt to a crisp. Butter, flour, and sugar, all wasted, turned into black husks. She dumped them into the trash and tossed the sheet pan into the sink, furious at herself.

“Woah,” Vera said, following Moira into the kitchen. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you burn anything before. Also, it stinks.”

“Open some windows, would you?” Moira started pulling ingredients out to make a second batch of the pastries. This time, she’d remember to set the timer. “And pour me a coffee.”

It was a testament to how frazzled Moira looked that Vera did as she asked without bickering. The cold morning air sliced into the room, cutting through the smoke and the heat from the oven. Vera poured two cups of coffee and kept one for herself, sliding the other over to Moira, who pounced on it like a drowning man on a life preserver.

“Rough morning?” Vera leaned against the counter, getting in the way while Moira tried to make the pastries again at double speed.

There was no way they’d be ready for the early-morning crowd, but hopefully, she’d get them out before the afternoon. It was all because of her sleepless night. She’d spent hours tossing and turning, staring at the clock, kicking off her blankets. Loaf had stalked off, annoyed, sometime after two o’clock to go sleep on the couch.

“Rough night,” Moira replied. “And rough morning. I just can’t get the whole tree thing out of my head. Who would do something like that? And why? Just to hurt us?”

Vera’s eyes flashed. She was fired up about the whole thing as Moira was, maybe more so, and it all came out in fury. Moira envied her. All she could feel was anxiety. It had been bubbling in her like a toxic brew ever since she’d heard that Jonah was coming to town.

“Whoever it is, we’re going to find them, and we’re going to make them pay. You’re safe, you know that, right, Moira? They’re not going to hurt you.”

“It’s not me I’m worried about,” Moira said, dumping the dough onto the counter. She kneaded it, working her fears out on it. “I’m worried about the pack. Did you see Adria’s face? She was devastated.”

“We all were,” Vera said. “I can’t believe I lost their trail. I think we should stake out that lighthouse and see who shows up.”