Page 7 of Noah

The sickening thud that followed made my stomach twist. Then came the crunch of snapping branches and the dull sound of earth shifting.

“Adrian!” I yelled, skidding to a stop.

Jackson was already at my side, and we both ran toward the slope. My chest tightened as I peered down.

Adrian lay crumpled at the bottom, his clothes torn and streaked with dirt. His arm hung at an odd angle, and deep scratches crisscrossed his skin. A red welt was already forming on one side of his face.

He groaned weakly, trying to push himself up, but slumped back with a hiss of pain.

“Shit,” Jackson muttered under his breath. I’d never heard him swear before.

“What do we do?” I asked, panic clawing at my chest.

Jackson didn’t hesitate. “We have to get down there,” he said, already moving.

I scrambled after him, the loose dirt slipping beneath my feet. Half-running, half-sliding, I reached the bottom just behind him.

Jackson crouched beside Adrian, pressing a hand to his chest to stop him from moving.

“Don’t move,” Jackson said firmly, his voice steady despite the tension in his jaw. “You might’ve broken something.”

Adrian winced, his face pale but still managing a weak glare. “No shit,” he rasped, his voice laced with pain.

Before I could say anything, the crunch of heavy footsteps reached us. My stomach dropped.

A group of shifters emerged from the treeline—Thornebane wolves. Their eyes flicked over the scene—the torn-up ground, Adrian sprawled on the dirt, Jackson and me standing over him—and their expressions darkened.

“What the hell happened out here?” one of them demanded.

By the time we were brought back to the Thornebane pack house, the sun had already started to set.

I’d wanted to stay with Jackson while the healers worked on Adrian, but they wouldn’t let me.

Instead, I was ushered back to Pecan Pines’ assigned quarters. Griffin explained it was protocol—something about keeping everyone separated so no one could interfere with the story.

I barely nodded, doing my best to appear calm while Griffin was around.

Now, standing in the Thornebane pack alpha’s office, with only enforcers and pack alphas from the other packs present, Griffin was nowhere to be seen.

The weight of it all pressed down on me like a boulder.

My eyes darted around the room. Adrian sat on a cushioned chair in the corner, his arm in a sling, scratches covering his face and arms.

Jackson stood with his dad across the room, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, eyes darting between Adrian and the Thornebane enforcers standing guard.

I wanted to go to him, to say something—anything that might ease the tension—but a wall of pack members kept us apart, and I couldn’t cross it.

I stood stiffly behind our pack alpha, Cooper’s father. My dad was at my side, his hand resting firmly on my shoulder.

Every time I shifted or even considered speaking, his hand tightened, a silent command to stay still.

When I looked up at him, his eyes were sharp, warning me with a subtle but unmistakable shake of his head: don’t speak. Not yet.

The Thornebane pack alpha, Marcus, loomed behind his desk, his face a mask of barely controlled anger.

“My son is injured,” he said, his voice icy as his eyes swept over the room. “His arm is dislocated, his body bruised, and his pride…” He let the sentence hang, a sneer curling his lips. “This is what happens when children are allowed to run wild without proper supervision.”

Cooper’s father, kept his tone calm as he responded. “They’re kids, Marcus. Boys being boys.”

---