Page 101 of Fated to the Lone Shifter
A man.
No. God, no.
I jerk back into myself, nearly stumbling into the ash-covered ground. My lungs can’t seem to get enough air.
He’s made his first kill. Without me.
My fault.
Sera is suddenly at my side. “Noah? What is it?”
I swallow hard, pulse crashing through my ears. “He’s turned.”
Her expression hardens instantly.
I shake my head, still trying to steady my breath. “He found Bode’s pack. He’s...joined them. I saw it. I felt it.”
She covers her mouth. “You mean—”
“Yeah.” My jaw clenches. “And he made his first kill with them. Human.”
I can see her face go white.
On top of that, I still don’t know where my parents are. No bodies. No trail. Just this message of fire and fear.
And now, the sound rises—clear and haunting. A howl, unmistakable, echoing from the direction of the firehouse.
Pack call.
I meet Sera’s wide eyes, and we both know.
They're not done.
Pressure tightens against my chest as I grip the railing of the firetruck, fingers curled tight enough to split steel. Wind lashes my face, hot with ash, the sirens screaming through the smoky dark like a warning we’re already too late to heed.
We’re not just chasing a blaze. We’re charging headfirst into something ancient. Something hungry.
The Bensons—my foster parents, the only family I’ve ever had who stuck—aren’t answering their phones. Marcus, my best friend, my second-in-command, my pack whether he wants to be or not—he’s out there with the enemy.
And all I’ve got is the smell of blood on the wind and a feeling in my spine that says something isvery, very wrong.
This night… it’s spiraling into a full moon from hell. And the worst part? I saw it coming.
Every part of me is stretched thin. Alpha instincts on overdrive. I’m supposed to be the steady one. The protector. The one who keeps the firehouse standing, the crew breathing, the monsters at bay—both the ones out there, and the ones that live in me. But this isn’t a standard call, and we all know it. This fire isn’t natural. Neither is the silence on the comms. Neither is the way my wolf’s been pacing under my skin all damn day, restless and furious.
I’ve spent my whole life trying to stay in control. To keep the wolf leashed. To play human long enough to blend in and protect what matters.
But right now?
The only way to protect them all is to completely lose control.
The truck hits a bump. I brace myself, eyes locked on the firehouse coming into view—dark, not a soul in sight, and the taste of danger thick in the air like ozone before a lightning strike.
My wolf howls inside me, primal and certain:They’re in trouble.
I’m running out of time.
I won’t survive this night without my magic—I know that now. I can’t keep pretending it doesn’t matter. Can’t keep holding it back like it won’t crack me open anyway.
