Chapter 180
DEREK
The trout crackled over the flames, the skin curling and blisering as the fat sizzled into the fire. It smelled amazing woodsmoke, lemon, the faint tang of salt I’d sprinkled from a packet I found in the supply box. I was proud of the sear, honestly. Not bad for fish cooked on a stiek beside a makeshift fire at the edge of nowhere.
I slid it off the skewer and onto one of the tin plates, careful not to burn my fingers. Alden was perched on a log nearby, swinging his legs, poking the ground with a stick like li owed him money,
I handed the plate over. “Bon appétit, my young woodsman”
He took it, looked down at the perfectly cooked trout…
…and wrinkled his nose.
“But don’t like fish.”
1 blinked “You–you helped catch it.”
“I didn’t know we were going to eat it.”
“I said we had to catch our dinner! Why else would we fish?”
He shrugged.
I stared at him for a second, then burst out laughing. “Okay, Noted. Next time I’ll check the menu with you before dinner prep.”
Alden gave me a sheepish grin, trying to hand the plate back. “Sorry.”
“No, no. It’s fine.” I set the plate on a rock and opened the cooler. Thank the Moon Goddess for contingency planning and for Silverclaw’s cook, who clearly knew I was in way over my head.
At the bottom of the cooler, wrapped in foil and blissfully intact, were hot dogs. A pack of buns. And–miracle of miracles ketchup packets.
“You’re in luck,” I said, pulling them out like they were treasure. “We’ve got backup rations.”
He whooped in excitement. “Can I cook my own?”
“Absolutely.
He grabbed a stick and speared a hot dog like a tiny barbarian. We roasted it over the fire together, too close to the flame at first until I showed him how to keep it turning slow, even, just above the licking heat.
His hot dog charred at the edges, but he didn’t care. By the time I turned to my own plate, he’d already devoured it, ketchup smeared across one cheek.
1 watched him eat and smiled. Then looked down at my own fish, now cold. It flaked perfectly when I broke off a piece, but the warmth was gone.
Still, I ate it.
He was happy. That was the point.
And for the first time in my life, I felt like I was beginning to understand just how much Elena had carried on her
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own. The planning, the backup plans, the tiny emergencies the cold dinners the unseen moments that ad up to a life She’d done all of this and more without help
“And I had the audacity to be surprised that she’d needed to pin away from me. That the ludn’t leapt into my arms
the moment I came back.
Goddess, I’d been arrogant.
“1 think I’m ready for dessert now,” Aiden announced, brushing his hands off on his jeans. “Got s’mores?”
“Of course,” I said. “Who do you think you’re camping with?”
He beamed as I pulled out the graham crackers, chocolate bars, and marshmallows from the canvas bag
I handed him another stick. “Let the torching begin.”
The first marshmallow went up in flames.
Aiden shrieked and flung it into the fire. “It attacked me!”
“Try again. Keep it higher. Rotate it. Like the hot dog.”
The second melted right off the stick and plopped into the ashes.
“Dad!” he groaned.
“Third time’s the charm.”
It wasn’t. Nor was the fourth. Or the fifth
“You’re going to burn through the whole bag,” I muttered, watching as yet another marshmallow charred black.
“Is it possible to toast a marshmallow or is this one of those grown–up lies like math being important and salad being good for you?”
I laughed, took the stick gently from his hands, and showed him again–slow, steady, rotating in a rhythm. After a few minutes, he finally managed one that was gooey and golden.
He bit into it, melted chocolate smeared across his lip. “This,” he declared, “is worth the trauma.”
I couldn’t help the grin. “Glad to hear it.”
Just then, one of the horses snorted sharply behind us, the sound stiff and uneasy.
I turned, senses alert. The fire crackled. The sky was navy now, stars just beginning to peek through. The horse pawed at the ground, ears twitching
“Probably a fox,” I said aloud. “Maybe a deer.”
Still… I sniffed the air.
Pine. Smoke. Horse. Aiden. Me.
No rot. No stranger. No wolf.
But something–tickled.
Aiden stretched and stood. “I gotta pee.”
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Chapter 180
“Stay close,” I said immediately. “Use the tree line just past that rock. I’ll be right here.”
He wandered off and I stood, watching him go, letting him have space but following at a slow distance. I couldn’t shake the itch between my shoulder blades.
He finished quickly, shaking his hands with a grimace. “Why don’t guys get wipes?”
“Because we’re savages,” I said, smirking.
Behind us, both horses were getting restless now. Their heads tossed, halters tugging against the tree ties. I looked again, listening harder.
Still nothing.
But I didn’t like it.
“Aiden,” I said, voice low and firm. “Get in the tent.”
He blinked, “Why?”
“Do as I say.
Something in my tone made him obey. He hustled to the tent and ducked inside. I heard the zipper slide shut behind him.
I pulled out my phone and checked it.
No bars.
I shoved it in my pocket and stepped to the edge of the trees. Just a quick check. I needed to know, and I couldn’t with this doubt clawing at me.
“Be right back,” I said quietly toward the tent. “Stay inside.
And then I let Erebus out.
The shift was instant. A ripple through muscle and sinew, bones lengthening, skin giving way to fur. My claws touched the forest floor in complete silence. My ears swiveled. My eyes adjusted
Still no scent.
e us.
But I could feel it now. Something was watching
I bolted through the trees, circling the site in wide loops. My men had swept this area earlier–checked the trails, walked the ridge, made sure we weren’t being followed. It was supposed to be safe. Remote, but safe.
I should have felt confident. Instead, every shadow looked too long, every breeze too sharp. We would’ve known if someone was out here.
Wouldn’t we?
No sign. No trail. No sound of breath or footstep.
Eventually, after two wide loops and a third closer pass, I forced myself to retreat. The feeling hadn’t gone away, but there was nothing to find.
Maybe it had been a fox. Or an owl. Or paranoia.
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I shifted back, skin tingling, limbs aching from the transformation. I pulled on my jeans and dragged my shirt over my head, stepping intd the orange glow of the campfire.
“And then I heard it.
A scream.
“DAD!”
1 ran.
The tent flap was still closed.
But the scream hadn’t come from the front.
I dropped to my knees, yanked the zipper down, and shoved my head inside.
The back of the tent had been sliced cleanly open.
And Aiden was gone.
