The inn was too quiet.
Clara sat in the dining room, a cold cup of tea in front of her, watching the window. The glass was dark now, the night pressed against it like a held breath. Every few minutes, headlights swept across the panes a car passing on Main Street, someone going home late. Each time, her heart jumped.
Three scouts crossed the border. They were looking for something. Or someone.
She'd been back at the inn for three hours. Elara had made her tea, brought her a blanket, asked no questions. The older woman seemed to understand that Clara needed silence more than she needed comfort right now.
But the silence was worse than questions. In the silence, her mind played the same loop over and over.
They know something has changed.
What did that mean? What did they know? That Kael had a mate? That she was human? That she was alone in a town she didn't understand, with no one to protect her except a man who had just left her to deal with pack business?
She didn't blame him for leaving. She'd told him to go. But sitting here, in the dark, she felt the weight of that choice.
You could leave, a voice whispered. You could pack your bags right now and drive south. Be back in California by morning. Forget this whole thing ever happened.
But she knew she wouldn't. Even if she wanted to—and part of her, the smart part, the part that had survived six months of grief by putting one foot in front of the other wanted to run, she knew she couldn't.
Because Kael had looked at her like she was the only thing keeping him standing. And she had promised she wouldn't run.
The front door opened.
Clara was on her feet before she realized she'd moved, her hand clutching the edge of the table. But it was only Elara, returning from the kitchen with a plate of bread and cheese.
"Easy," Elara said, setting the plate down. "It's just me."
"Sorry. I'm jumpy."
"You're smart to be jumpy." Elara sat across from her, pushing the plate toward her. "Eat. You didn't touch your dinner."
Clara picked up a piece of bread, more to have something to do with her hands than because she was hungry. "What do you know about Riven?"
Elara's face tightened. "Enough to know you should be afraid of him."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one I have tonight." Elara leaned back in her chair, her hands wrapped around her own cup of tea. "Riven is the Alpha of the Shadowfang pack. They control the territory north of us, up toward the Canadian border. He's been Alpha for about twenty years. Took over by killing his father and his two older brothers."
Clara's stomach turned. "He killed his own family?"
"Wolves are not like humans. Power is taken, not given. Most packs have rules about succession. Challenges are controlled, regulated. But Riven..." Elara's voice dropped. "Riven doesn't follow rules. He takes what he wants. And what he wants is Graylock."
"Why? It's a small town. There's nothing here."
"There's the pass. The only road through the mountains for two hundred miles. Control Graylock, and you control who comes in and out of the entire region." Elara's eyes met hers. "And there's something else. Something older. The land itself has power. Magic, if you want to call it that. The Graylock territory is one of the oldest pack lands in North America. Whoever holds it holds a kind of authority that goes beyond territory lines."
Magic. Clara wanted to laugh. Three days ago, she didn't believe in werewolves. Now she was supposed to believe in magic too?
But she thought of the symbols on her cabin door. The way they'd felt familiar, even though she'd never seen them before. The letter from her great-aunt, talking about gifts and curses.
"Margaret knew about the magic," Clara said. "Didn't she?"
Elara nodded slowly. "Margaret was what we call a Sensitive. She could feel the magic in the land, see things that others couldn't. It's why she came to Graylock in the first place. She was drawn here, the way some people are drawn to places of power."
"And me? Is that why I'm here? Because of her blood?"
"You're here because you needed a place to heal. But yes, the blood remembers. The magic in your veins called you home." Elara reached across the table and took her hand. "You have gifts, Clara. You may not know them yet, but they're there. And Riven will know it too, if he gets close enough to feel you."
A chill ran down Clara's spine. "What do you mean, feel me?"
"Power recognizes power. If you're anything like Margaret, you'll have a... presence. A scent, to a wolf. Something that marks you as different. As special." Elara's grip tightened. "That's what Riven's scouts were looking for tonight. That scent. They wanted to confirm what they already suspected—that Kael has found his mate, and that she's human."
Clara pulled her hand away. "Why does that matter to him?"
"Because a human mate is a weakness. It's the one thing that can break an Alpha. Take the mate, and you break the wolf. Riven knows that. He's been waiting for Kael to show a crack in his armor. And now..." Elara's voice was barely a whisper. "Now you've handed him a weapon."
The words hit Clara like a slap. She stood up so fast her chair nearly tipped over.
"I didn't ask for this. I didn't ask to be his mate. I didn't ask for any of it."
"I know, child. I know." Elara stood too, her hands raised in a calming gesture. "I'm not blaming you. None of us blame you. But you need to understand what's at stake. Kael will protect you with his life. That's what Alphas do. But if Riven gets his hands on you.."
"Then what?"
Elara didn't answer. She didn't have to. The look on her face told Clara everything she needed to know.
She sat back down, her legs suddenly weak. "What do I do?"
"Trust Kael. Let him protect you. And when the time comes" Elara paused, her eyes distant. "When the time comes, you'll know what to do. Margaret did. And you're stronger than you know."
Clara wanted to argue. Wanted to say she wasn't strong, wasn't special, wasn't anything. But the words died in her throat.
Because somewhere deep inside her, in a place she'd been ignoring for years, something was waking up. Something that had been sleeping since the accident, maybe longer. Something that felt like warmth spreading through her chest, like light behind her eyes.
She pressed her hand to her sternum, feeling the heat there. "Elara... what's happening to me?"
Elara smiled. It was a sad smile, the kind that came from knowing too much.
"Welcome home, Clara"