Page 46 of Fated Wolf's Destiny

Her words catch me off guard, a lump forming in my throat. “Thank you,” I say quietly, my fingers tightening around the coffee cup. “That means a lot.”

She smiles, her expression softening, before heading back to the counter. I pick up the sandwich and take a bite, savoring the flavors as I glance around the café. The café’s patty melt is absolutely the best I’ve ever had. The café isn’t big, but it feels like the heart of Shadow Hollow, the place where everyone seems to converge at least once a day.

At a nearby table, two older men are chatting quietly, their conversation catching my attention.

“...never seen tracks that big before,” one of them says, shaking his head. “Something’s out there.”

“Could be one of those mutants,” the other replies, his voice low. “They’ve been sniffing around the borders for weeks now. The sheriff better keep an eye on things.”

I stiffen, my appetite suddenly waning. The mention of the mutants sends a shiver through me, a reminder of how fragile the peace in this town really is. I’ve been trying to focus on the clinic, but the shadows pressing in from the woods are impossible to ignore.

“Refill?” Marjorie’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. She’s standing beside my table, the coffee pot in hand.

I nod, pushing my cup toward her. “Do you think the Crimson Claw is getting bolder?” I ask, my voice low enough that only she can hear.

Her expression hardens, and she pours the coffee without answering right away. “The Crimson Claw has been a problem for years,” she says finally, her tone measured. “But things feel... different now. Like they’re not just scavenging. Like they’re planning something.”

I frown, the unease in my chest growing. “Planning what?”

“That’s the question, isn’t it?” she says, setting the pot on the table and leaning closer. “You be careful, Bella. You’re doing good work, but you’ve got enough on your plate without poking the bear, or the mutant, in this case.”

I nod again, her words sinking in as I take another sip of coffee. The rest of my meal passes in a haze, my thoughts tangled with questions I can’t seem to unravel.

By the time I finish and step back outside, the chill of the air is a welcome distraction. My Jeep is parked a few steps away, loaded with supplies for the clinic. As I climb into the driver’s seat, I glance back toward the café, where Marjorie stands at the window, watching me with an expression I can’t quite read.

Whatever’s coming, it feels like it’s closing in fast. But I won’t back down—not from the Crimson Claw, not from whatever killed Arthur and not from the pack that turned its back on my grandmother. Shadow Hollow is my home now, and I’m not going anywhere.

I pull up to the clinic and notice the door is ajar, swinging slightly in the breeze. My heart plummets into my stomach as I step out of the Jeep, the hair on the back of my neck standing on end. The soft creak of the hinges as I approach feels deafening in the quiet, every nerve in my body screaming that something isn’t right.

My hands shake as I push the door open wider. The familiar scent of antiseptic and wood polish is drowned out by the sharp tang of chaos. Papers are scattered across the floor and cabinets hang open, their contents dumped in messy piles. The place looks like it’s been hit by a tornado.

“Blue?” I call and hear him scrambling out from under the cot in the back room. He runs to me and jumps into my arms. A quick check and I can see he’s frightened but not harmed.

I step further inside, swallowing the lump in my throat as I take in the destruction. My stomach churns as I enter my office and see my desk overturned, drawers ripped open and Arthur’s files—the files I’ve been carefully piecing together—gone.

I feel a mixture of rage and helplessness bubbling to the surface. I pull out my phone with trembling hands and dial the one number I know I probably shouldn’t. The phone rings once before Ryder’s voice, low and sharp, fills my ear.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, no preamble, just that commanding tone that grates on my nerves and grounds me at the same time.

“The clinic,” I manage, my voice breaking. “It’s been broken into. The notes, they’re gone.”

“Go get in your Jeep. Lock the doors and wait for me,” he says, his voice dropping an octave. “I’m on my way.”

The line goes dead, and I shove my phone into my pocket, going back out to the Jeep, ensuring nothing is hiding there waiting, and lock both Blue and I inside. My hands curl around the steering wheel as I sit there, anger burning away the lingering fear. Whoever did this wasn’t just looking for something—they were looking for Arthur’s secrets. For answers I’m not even close to figuring out yet.

Ryder’s truck pulls up beside me and he motions for me to remain in the Jeep. He enters the clinic with Lucas at his side. After a few minutes Lucas returns to move Blue and I back inside. Ryder comes out of the back, his gaze sweeping the room, his eyes narrowing, the anger radiating off him in waves. Lucas lingers near the doorway, his expression grim.

“Are you all right?” I nod. “What the hell happened here?” Ryder asks, his voice low and dangerous.

“I don’t know,” I say. “I went into town to get some supplies and decided to treat myself by having lunch at the Moonlight Café. When I returned, I found this.” I gesture at the chaos around me. “They took Arthur’s files, Ryder. Everything I’ve been working on.”

His jaw clenches, as he steps further into the room. He moves like a predator, each step deliberate as he scans the scene, his gaze lingering on the overturned desk and the empty file cabinet.

Lucas crouches near the mess of papers on the floor, picking up a few scattered pages. “Looks like they knew exactly what they were looking for,” he says, his tone grim. “This wasn’t random.”

“No kidding,” I snap as I glare at the mess. “From what I can tell, Arthur’s files were the only things they took. Whoever did this knew what to look for, what they might find.”

Ryder’s gaze snaps to mine, his dark eyes blazing. “You’re sure it was the files?”

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