Page 87 of His to Possess

“You shouldn’t prod the beast.”

The voice was definitely male but not one I could recognize, the husky tone slightly garbled. “Then show yourself. Let me see what I’m dealing with.”

The asshole went quiet for a full two minutes.

“Why did you kill those people? Money? Power?” I asked, still trying to keep an edge, although I knew I was in danger.

Another snort was followed by what sounded like a growl. God, whatever drug I’d been given still had effects.

“If you think you can get to my father through me, you’re dead wrong, Zane.” I tried a different tactic.

My words were answered with a laugh, one that created another round of intense shivers penetrating every pore and muscle.

“I’m certain… he wouldn’t want his… daughter killed,” he snarled. It wasn’t his words that bothered me, it was the ragged breathing in between them. As if he had difficulty speaking.

“Then what do you want? Who are you?”

“Someone… you should… fear.”

“Show yourself!” I demanded, doing everything I could to control my breathing. I blinked several times again and I could swear my vision became clearer. As I peered into the abyss, the asshole only had to creep forward another inch for me to gather a look. “No. No!”

The tap-tapping as the being approached was unlike anything I’d ever heard before but the sight of him—of it—was exactly what I’d seen in the forest. As he moved closer still, his yellow eyes glowing in the darkness, I tipped my head back and screamed.

Monsters were real.

CHAPTER15

Max

“You must take the reins and your rightful place as leader of our people. Only you can bring peace, keeping the Wolfen safe.”

My father’s words burned into my mind, my heart heavy with the realization of what we could be facing. Very few of our pack had ever faced true battle, the kind of bloody wars told in Wolfen history. I still hadn’t been able to sense other wolves in close proximity. Either my senses had been dulled or this particular pack had managed to garner the masking abilities sacred to the Wolfen.

Or the killer was a member of the Wolfen pack.

Greed.

Power.

I’d spent enough time around criminals who used one weapon or another to terrify their victims. Often, the majority had never fired a gun in their lives. In this case, the monsters didn’t need guns. They had a beast handling the dirty work who was much more dangerous than any AK-47 or Glock handgun.

My father had been approached on two occasions by a consortium that had wanted to purchase a portion of Roselake, the offers very generous. Fortunately, Captain Walters had remained his friend, finally giving him a warning that several prominent citizens were being investigated and that my father should watch his back. It seemed the consortium hadn’t planned on being turned down. Then again, they hadn’t realized the kind of people they were dealing with. What my father hadn’t anticipated was the involvement of a different pack.

Or so he’d said in front of the others.

Between the rumors Stone had heard as well as the basic information my father had provided, we had to face the fact that another pack was ready to try to move in. While the move wasn’t unprecedented, the timing was terrifying given the Wolfen’s peace and the fact other packs had been pushed away, leaving us with no backup.

The enemy pack would have no way of knowing we’d reconciled with the Nightwalkers. Would it be enough to fight them?

As I stood on the back deck of my father’s house, I thought about the book he himself had given me to read. Why did I have the feeling that my father wanted me to find the answer, to locate the burial site? While disturbing the remains would push every pack into a primal state, none would be able to best the Wolfen in battle.

Perhaps the best kept Wolfen secret.

Or was there more to the legend than he was telling me?

I heard the door, sensing my father. He flanked my side, staring up at his beloved mountains. He leaned over the railing, folding his hands. For some reason, he appeared even more frail than he had only a few minutes before.

The quiet moment was something we hadn’t shared in so long. I’d been brought up to appreciate my heritage and my spiritual side, my father taking the time to nurture Cherokee rituals. If only I’d paid closer attention. I’d lost touch with my spirit animal and a certain amount of my abilities. And my father had never pushed, had never fully admonished me for forgetting my lineage.

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