Page 22 of Nightmare Island

The few Alphas who report directly to me have rooms on the third floor. I burst into their quarters without warning, met with growls and challenging stares. But one look at my face, at the fury barely contained behind my mask, and they back down.

The rest of my pack lives outside in huts scattered around the mansion grounds, but she couldn’t have made it past the guards. Could she?

As I round a corner, I nearly collide with Knut. He’s dressed for the hunt—shirtless, with intricate war paint covering hismuscled torso and face. He’s one to go completely wild on hunt nights. When he sees me, his eyes widen.

“What’s going on?”

“She’s gone,” I growl, the words tasting bitter in my mouth. “I can’t fucking find her.”

“Hel?” Knut asks, his brow furrowing.

“Yes, fucking Hel!” I snap, my control slipping. “Who else would I be talking about?”

“Easy, Ghost.” Knut holds up his hands, palms out. “We’ll find her. Where have you looked?”

“Everywhere,” I spit out, running a hand through my hair in frustration. “Her room, the kitchen, the common areas. It’s like she fucking vanished into thin air.”

“Could she have used the underground passage?” he suggests, an eyebrow arching upward.

I shake my head, the movement sharp and angry. “I locked those myself last night. There’s no way…” But even as I say it, a nagging doubt creeps in. What if I missed something? What if she found a way? “Go search for her in the mansion once more,” I command. “Take whoever you need. I want every inch of this place turned upside down.”

“You got it, boss.” Knut nods, already turning to go. “We’ll find her.”

As he marches off, barking orders to the nearest Alpha since most are in the hunt, I stand there, indecision gnawing at me. Then, on an impulse, I head for the staircase leading to the underground passage.

The stairs are narrow and steep, carved directly into the bedrock. At the bottom, a heavy iron door blocks the way. It’s always locked from the outside, preventing unauthorized entry, but it has a separate lock that can be controlled from the inside, allowing me to decide wether anyone can leave the mansion. I keep the master key back in the study.

I reach for the handle, my heart pounding.

It turns easily, the door swinging open with a groan of protest.

“What the fuck?” I mutter, examining the lock. I know I locked it from the inside. It doesn’t look tampered with.

I step outside, the door shutting behind me, the cool night air hitting me like a slap. The soil is still soft from yesterday’s rain, and fresh footprints lead away from the door. They’re small, delicate… definitely hers. Smart girl didn’t shift—she knows she’d be harder to scent in human form. But of all the times to escape, she chooses now, with the ferals out hunting.

“Fuck,” I growl, plunging into the woods.

The forest is alive with sounds—rustling leaves, distant howls, and the scurrying of small animals. The Blood Moon casts a red glow through the canopy, turning familiar shapes into twisted shadows. I sniff the air, trying to catch her scent, but there’s nothing. Just the earthy smell of damp soil and vegetation, the sharp tang of pine, and something else… something old and musty, which is mostly this island.

I push deeper into the woods, my eyes scanning the ground for signs of her passage. Every now and then, I spot another footprint, half hidden under fallen leaves or partially washed away by lingering puddles. Each one spurs me on, a breadcrumb trail.

The farther I go, the denser the forest becomes. Ancient trees loom overhead, their gnarled branches reaching out like grasping fingers. Roots snake across the forest floor, threatening to trip me with every step, but I press on.

The sun has almost set, the last streaks of orange and pink fading from the sky. Soon, it will be fully dark, and even my enhanced vision will struggle in the gloom. Howls echo from all directions, sending a chill down my spine. My pack is out there,hunting, their bloodlust fueled by the Blood Moon. And Hel is out here, alone and in danger.

I push myself faster, worry and anger warring inside me. I should have watched her myself. I should have known she’d find a way out, but something still feels off about that lock… about this whole situation.

Branches whip at my face and arms as I run.

Finally, I burst into a small clearing. The Blood Moon hangs low in the sky, huge and ominous. Its red light bathes everything in a surreal glow. I pause, chest heaving, and scan the ground.

There—a footprint leading to the right. Away from the mansion and the hunting grounds. My gut tightens as I realize where she’s heading. Wreckage—the old ghost town where humans once lived, back when humanity still existed in this world. It’s a place so haunted by the past that none of my pack will set foot in it. But for me, it’s always been a sanctuary, a place to find peace and solitude.

With a guttural growl, I swing right and bullet toward Wreckage.

Chapter

Six

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