Page 13 of Finding Forever with the Alpha Pack

Across the field, the Kodiaks’ alpha lifts his head in my direction, a wordless nod of acknowledgment, and I do the same. It’s our way of saying goodbye, and showing respect. That’s one group you want in your corner, especially when you know the odds are against you. You never feel quite so outnumbered with them fighting beside you.

Grace and Ethan trot off toward the tent, their forms blending into the fading light. I follow behind, slower, taking in the last remnants of the battlefield, the unsettling silence after the chaos. Inside the tent, Grace is already wearing Ethan’s spare shirt, the hem of it nearly hitting her knees. Ethan’s standing in just his jeans, his chest bare, sweat and blood streaked down his skin. Looks like neither of them thought ahead to bring a second change of clothes. I shift back and dig through my bag, tossing Grace a pair of my sweatpants.

She catches them with a tired but appreciative smile. “Thanks. I miscalculated how many outfits I’d need.” She shrugs, tying the string tight around her waist before letting out a sigh.

“I think we did alright,” Ethan says as he steps outside the tent, his eyes scanning the distance. His wolf is still lingering beneath the surface. I can feel it, just barely leashed.

We walk through the battlefield again, the three of us silent, scanning the aftermath. The bodies, the blood, the broken trees scattered across the dirt. But nowhere—nowhere in all this mess—is the missing elder.

“Shit,” I mutter under my breath, frustration tightening in my chest. “He’s still out there.” My gaze shifts to the horizon, the sun already sinking low, casting long shadows over the bodies and ruins of the fight. It’s almost nightfall. We’re running out of daylight, and we still haven’t heard from the other team. My gut churns with unease.Something’s wrong. Something’s off.

The quiet feels too fragile, too temporary, like it’s holding its breath for whatever comes next. I can only hope we’ll hear from the others soon, before the night swallows us whole.

The stench of blood and smoke clings to the air, heavy and oppressive as I stand beside Grace. She’s perched at the edge of the carnage, staring out over the field of death and destruction, her expression as calm as the still water of a lake before a storm. Her face betrays nothing, not a flicker of emotion to anyone watching. But I know her well enough to sense the tension coiled beneath that stoic mask. Every so often, she glances over her shoulder, her gaze landing on the dirt road. She’s waiting—for the others to join us, for the plan to unfold, for something.

The wind shifts. In that moment, her head jerks toward the road, her body tensing like a bowstring pulled taut. She turns toward us, just for a second, and her eyes flare, glowing bright with her wolf’s intensity. Something’s wrong.

Before I can react, she’s shifting—her form rippling and breaking into the powerful white wolf we know so well. Then, she’s gone, a blur of white fur racing not toward the road, but into the woods.

My heart lurches. The direction she’s headed … it’s straight toward her pack.

Ethan and I exchange a glance before we’re both shifting, paws hitting the ground with barely a pause. We tear after her, the pounding of my paws thundering in time with my heartbeat, but even at our speed, keeping up with Grace is nearly impossible. Her white wolf streaks through the woods like a ghost, her movements so fast, so precise, she’s almost untouchable.

The forest is a blur around me as we push harder. In the distance, I see her form skirting the edge of her pack’s land. Then she let loose a howl. The sound cuts through the air like a blade, and a shiver runs down my spine. It’s a command, a summoning of her pack’s might. And it’s fierce.

‘It’s Griffin,’Ethan’s voice cuts through my mind, filled with a weight I can feel deep in my bones.‘She can’t feel him.’

I push harder, my muscles burning as I try to close the distance between us. Wolves emerge from the trees, dozens upon dozens of them, flanking us as we run. Grace howls again, the sound desperate this time, raw and aching, as she crosses onto my pack’s land. There’s fear in that howl—a fear she’s trying to drown out, but it’s there, thrumming beneath the surface.

‘If he’s dead … you would’ve felt it, right?’I send the thought to Ethan, my gaze darting around as my pack joins the chase.

Ethan’s reply comes cold, clipped, as though he’s trying to convince himself.‘In theory, yes. Grace would be the first to know. A Luna is only as strong as the mates she chooses. She chose six mates. Losing one won’t weaken her much.’

His tone is detached, but I can feel the tight coil of worry winding through him. This is his brother we’re talking about. He’s just as afraid as she is.

Ahead, Grace surges forward, her desperation palpable now. The forest feels alive with tension, every wolf on edge, waiting for the moment we find out the truth. And all I can think is—if Griffin’s gone, the storm that’s coming won’t just be hers.

Chapter 10

Grace

No...No... No...

Panic claws at my chest, like there’s a hand wrapped tight around my heart, squeezing the life out of me. I can’t feel Griffin. The bond between us, that constant pull, is missing. My mind races, desperate, as I reach out, frantically tugging at all my other bonds. Barrett, Conrad, and Lorcan—they’re all safe, warm, happy even. My tugging has alerted them, though. They know something’s wrong. As we agreed before they left, if I ever pull on the bonds, they’re to pack up and leave immediately. Get on the road, drive until they either hear from us or feel me die.

I hate that I’ve scared them. Hate it. But they need to be safe. My babies need to live through this.

I throw my head back and howl; the sound ripping from my throat and carrying through the trees, a call to my pack. Nicolai’s too. I need every available wolf. There’s no telling what we’re running into, and I’m not foolish enough to walk into a death trap alone.

The wind shifts, and my stomach churns as the heavy scent of iron hits me like a punch.Blood. So much blood.My pace slows to a trot, then a cautious walk. I angle myself downwind, senses sharpened, trying to catch any movement or sound over the rustling leaves and distant growls. Keeping low to the ground, I crawl through the underbrush, my heart pounding in my ears. When I finally peer through the leaves, my breath catches in my throat.

The battlefield is a massacre. No one left standing—just bodies strewn across the ground, limbs twisted in unnatural angles, blood soaking into the earth. My fur prickles with fear, but I force myself to stay calm, to observe. I don’t dare move until Ethan and Nicolai catch up.I can’t risk it.

When they arrive, we step out together, moving into the open, our paws sinking into the mud, sticky with blood and gore. I scan the field, my heart racing, searching, praying. Ambrose’s body is the first I find. He’s alive. He’s shifted back to his human form, unconscious but intact. I nudge him gently with my nose.He’ll be okay.

But I can’t stop. I walk past him, my chest tightening as I continue the search. I’m still on the hunt. Still looking for Griffin. Fear gnaws at the edges of my mind.Where is he?

I shift back, feeling the pull of my bones snapping into place, my muscles twisting painfully until I stand bare before the pack. The air is thick, oppressive, carrying the stench of blood and sweat. My skin prickles from the cold, and the scars that crisscross my body—reminders of the day my ex tried to kill me and failed—burn as if freshly made. A reminder of the rage simmering just beneath the surface.

---