Page 24 of Wolf of the Storm
"But it doesn't." I can smell the truth of it. "Does it?"
"No." She wraps her arms around herself, but she's smiling now. "It really doesn't. And that terrifies me more than anything else."
I grab my jeans and shirt from where I left them, pulling them on quickly. As I do, Eliza's eyes catch on something behind me—a weathered storage bench tucked against the house.
"My aunt kept that there," she says quietly. "I wondered why. There are clothes in it. Men's clothes in different sizes."
Understanding settles over her face as she realizes what that means. Maureen didn't just document shifters. She welcomed them. Provided for them.
"She was a good woman," I say, feeling the note in my pocket. "She understood what most humans never will."
I leave her standing on the porch, watching the sunrise. As I head back toward town, my wolf and I glory in the knowledge that our mate knows what we are and hasn't run.
Someone orchestrated this. Every step—Rafe's reveal, my confession, her acceptance. We thought we were making choices. But what if we've been following a script written by forces older and more dangerous than any of us?
My mate knows the truth now. And knowing changes her. Makes her part of this world. Part of whatever's waking up in the deep waters and old magic.
I wanted to protect her by keeping her ignorant. Instead, I've given her exactly what someone else wanted her to have.
CHAPTER 7
ELIZA
When Declan returns I haven't slept. How could I? My world has been turned inside out, reshaped into something impossible and terrifying and—I have to admit—exhilarating.
I've spent the hours since he left going through my aunt's journals with new eyes. Every cryptic passage now makes sense. Every careful notation about moon phases and tide patterns and behavioral observations—it was all real. She was documenting a hidden world that existed alongside the human one, and she did it for more than forty years.
The knock on my door is soft but firm. I know it's him before I open it. That pull I've been feeling since the moment we met vibrates stronger now, like a string connecting us that hums when he's near.
He's dressed in dark jeans and a henley, his hair still damp. He looks exhausted, but his wolf-gold eyes track every movement I make with predatory intensity.
"It's time," he says. "The pack leaders need to meet you properly."
Unease settles low in my belly. "Now?"
"The longer we wait, the worse it gets. They're already on edge." His eyes flash gold. "But you're my mate. That makes you pack. They will accept you, or they'll answer to me."
I grab my jacket, my phone, my journalist's notebook—old habits die hard. "What should I expect?"
"Hostility. Suspicion. Fear." He says it bluntly, not sugar-coating. "You're human. You know our secret. Some of them see you as a threat, no matter what I say about the mate bond."
"And if they decide I am a threat?"
His eyes flash gold. "They don't get to decide. I do. And I've already made my choice." A wry smile lifts the corners of his mouth. "Actually fate made the choice a long time ago."
The possessiveness in his voice sends warmth through me. I should probably examine what that means about me. Later.
The drive to the stone circle takes fifteen minutes along winding coastal roads. The scenery would be beautiful if I weren't so terrified.
Five men turn as one when they hear Declan's truck, and the predator focus in their collective gaze sends a shiver down my spine. They aren't entirely human. They're something else, something dangerous, and every instinct I have screams run.
I don't run. I get out of the truck and walk toward them with my chin up, even though my hands shake.
They are waiting among the standing stones. Declan introduces them to me. Jax, his second-in-command; Callum, the former detective; Brennan, the pack’s tech guru; Eamon, the pack’s healer; and Torin, the pack’s seer and magical practitioner—whatever the hell that means.
Declan moves to my side, close enough that our arms brush. "This is Eliza," he says, his voice carrying the weight of command. "My mate. You will treat her with the respect that position demands."
Jax steps forward—lean, aggressive energy radiating from every line of his body. His dark eyes are hostile. "She's human."
