Page 10 of His Spellbound Mate

Chapter Six

Neville

The moon hung low in the sky, a swollen orb of silver that cast an eerie glow over the dense forests of Silver Ridge. Neville stood at the edge of the pack's compound; his gaze fixed on the horizon as the first stirrings of the full moon's power began to ripple through him. The air was thick with the scent of pine and damp earth, familiar and grounding, but tonight, it did little to calm the restlessness that gnawed at him from within.

His wolf was closer to the surface than ever before, a constant presence that he could feel in the tension of his muscles and the sharpness of his senses. The beast was eager, straining against the bonds Neville had carefully maintained for so long. Each full moon brought its own challenges, but this time, something was different. The curse, a dark legacy that had been hinted at by others and had become realized when he himself had been cursed, seemed to be growing stronger, its grip tightening with every passing day.

Neville clenched his fists, fighting for control. He couldn't afford to lose it, not now. Not when the safety of his pack—and the entire town—depended on him holding it together. But the fear was there, gnawing at the edges of his resolve. He had felt it in the woods earlier, the pull of the moon more potent than ever before. It was as if the curse was feeding on something, growing stronger with each passing night.

He needed to talk to Garrett.

With a deep breath, Neville turned and made his way back to the compound. The pack's headquarters was an enormous house, a sprawling structure that had served as the heart of their community for more than a century. It was both a fortress and a home, a place where they could gather in safety during the full moon and plan for whatever threats might arise. Tonight, it felt more like a prison.

He found Garrett in the common room, pacing restlessly in front of the fireplace. The flames cast flickering shadows across his face, highlighting the lines of worry etched into his features. Garrett had been Neville's right-hand man since the day he had taken over as alpha, and there was no one he trusted more. But even Garrett, usually so calm and composed, looked uneasy tonight.

"Garrett," Neville greeted him with a nod as he entered the room.

Garrett stopped pacing and looked up, his expression grim. "Neville. You’re feeling it too, aren’t you?"

Neville sighed, running a hand through his hair. "More than ever. The curse… it’s getting stronger. I can feel it. It’s like it’s trying to break free."

Garrett nodded, his gaze flicking to the window where the moon's light streamed in. "I’ve noticed it too. The others are restless. More fights breaking out, more aggression. And you… you’re usually the one holding us all together, but even you seem on edge."

Neville grimaced. He hated admitting weakness, especially to Garrett, but there was no point in hiding the truth. "I’m barely keeping it under control. The moon… it’s pulling harder than before. And the curse… I don’t know how much longer I can fight it."

Garrett's jaw tightened, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence was heavy, filled with unspoken fears. Finally, Garrett spoke, his voice low. "We need to find out what’s causing this. If the curse is evolving, if it’s getting stronger, then we’re all in danger. The pack, the town… everyone."

Neville nodded, the weight of responsibility settling on his shoulders. "I’ve been thinking the same thing. We can’t afford to ignore this. But I don’t even know where to start. The curse has been with us for so long, and no one’s ever found a way to break it or even fully understand it."

Garrett opened his mouth to respond, but before he could say anything, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the hallway. A young pack member, barely out of his teens, burst into the room, his face pale and his eyes wide with fear.

"Alpha," he gasped, struggling to catch his breath. "There’s been an attack. On the outskirts of town. It… it was brutal."

Neville's heart sank. He didn’t need to hear the rest to know what the boy was going to say. "What kind of attack?" he asked, already dreading the answer.

The boy swallowed hard, his voice trembling. "Animal, they think. But… it wasn’t just any animal. The bodies… they were torn apart, like something… like a wolf."

Neville felt a cold wave of horror wash over him. He had feared this, had sensed it coming, but hearing the words still hit him like a punch to the gut. "Shit. Where?" he demanded, already moving toward the door.

"Near the old mill, by the river," the boy replied, his voice still shaky. "One of the deputies has already cordoned off the area. He sent me for the sheriff, who I said would most likely come directly here from the compound, but… they don’t know what they’re dealing with."

Neville exchanged a glance with Garrett, who nodded grimly. "Let’s go," Neville said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

They went to the changing area, bundled up their clothing, and called forth their wolves. The fastest way to the old mill was cross country, where even an ATV couldn’t make it. Better to shift and run. They galloped out of the compound, moving through the forest with the speed and silence of the apex predators they were. The moonlight filtered through the trees, casting everything in an otherworldly glow. As they neared the old mill, the scent of blood reached Neville’s nose, sharp and metallic, mingled with the unmistakable musk of a wolf.

His wolf surged within him, eager to hunt, to fight, but Neville forced it down. He couldn’t afford to lose control now. Not when so much was at stake.

As they approached the scene of the crime, they stopped in an area where they could shift without being seen. Both men shifted, and the maelstrom of color, sound, and light swirled around them until they were human once more. Quickly, they pulled on their clothing.

Neville remained out of sight as Garrett entered the crime scene alone and sent his deputy to block the only access road into the area, telling him to hold everyone there until he’d had a chance to take a preliminary look. Once the deputy was gone, Garrett motioned to Neville to join him, handing him a pair of latex gloves.

Neville’s worst fears were confirmed. The ground was stained with blood, and the bodies—what was left of them—were scattered around the clearing. The victims had been savaged beyond recognition, their limbs twisted at unnatural angles, their flesh torn apart as if by claws and teeth.

Neville’s stomach churned, but he forced himself to remain calm, to assess the scene with a clear head. The scent of the wolf was strong here, but it wasn’t one he recognized. He breathed a sigh of relief. This wasn’t the work of any member of his pack.

Garrett crouched beside one of the bodies, his expression grim. "It’s worse than I thought. This… this wasn’t just an attack. It was a slaughter."

Neville nodded, his eyes scanning the ground for any clues, any sign of what they were dealing with. "It’s not one of ours," he said quietly. "The scent is wrong. But it’s definitely a wolf-shifter."

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