Page 17 of Wolf's Fate

“Everyone’s an art critic,” I murmured and once more was met with his hard look that saw through my bullshit.

“Makes me think you may know the person who did this?”

“I don’t know anyone who would want to do this to me,” I told him honestly. “Do you?”

“That level of destruction? Usually an old boyfriend, or relative wanting money.” He shrugged. “Sound familiar?”

“No, sir.”

“You lying to me, Willow?”

“No, sir.” I wasn’t. “I have no ex-boyfriend who would hate me, and as I am sure you know, I have no relatives.”

We held each other’s stare, and then I realized something when I thought about theconnectionhe mentioned. “Alistair?” I asked him, lowering my voice, referring to the young boy whowould use my key to hide for a few hours when his mom wasentertaining. “The other break-ins are Alistair?”

Sheriff Lincoln’s whole face changed, turning from hard-ass cop to resigned, weary man, who wished the answer was different. “It would be appreciated if you kept your thoughts to yourself.”

“He has a key to my house,” I told him, moving closer. “He wouldn’t do this. To me,” I added, since it was likely hewasdoing it to others. Probably the people who were hooking up with his mom.

The sheriff nodded. “Yeah, I know.” He took his hat off and scratched his head. “Which is why I agree your break-ins are different. The fact it was your businessandthe house is why we had to take action here today, but if you’re being targeted and have an idea as to why, you should tell me.”

With my fingers crossed in my jacket pockets, I lied to his face. “Trust me, sheriff, if I knew what was happening, I would be the first person to tell you.”

He walked me outside, and we parted ways. While Lily and Lorna grilled me more thoroughly than the sheriff during our short trip to go get lunch, all I could think about was Alistair, and I wondered how I could help him.

Which was a nice change from thinking about how I could help Caleb, until I realized that each was probably as miserable as the other, and that made me lose my appetite completely.

SIX

Caleb

I lay on my back,awake but with my eyes closed, as I listened to the sounds of the mountain surrounding me. The sounds of nature used to soothe me; now all I heard were the echoes of emptiness. There was no pack here. There hadn’t been in many years.

Ten years.

Ten years since I returned to a pack that had been slaughtered. Ten years since I had stood in this clearing that I now lay in the middle of. The air was cold, but I was a shifter and the chill in the air didn’t really bother me. Nothing had bothered me for a long time.

Excepther.

I blew out a low breath, the only outward sign that she affected me. I’d left her behind, so why couldn’t Ileave her behind? Instead, I thought about herallthe fucking time. I had a lingering sense of regret that I’d left it the way I had, but when I thought about it, she was in safe hands. Cannon was the better alpha.

Alpha.

Only the shaman had called me that. I never had a pack to lead. The Shadowridge Peak Pack died the day my father did. I wanted nothing to do with this peak after that morning. There was nothing left anyway. The pack was dead. The ones who had betrayed them were dead. I’d killed any survivors of that morning, not that there were many.

The only one left alive in the Shadowridge Peak Pack was me. Any others, and there were so few, had changed packs.

I had never planned to return to this mountain, to the place I left behind what felt like a lifetime ago. And yet, here I was, every step I had taken those months ago had led me deeper into the landscape I had spent years trying to forget. The thought of returning was never part of the plan. But I hadn’t left with a plan. A lone wolf doesn’t need a plan—just instincts and the raw, unshakeable drive to survive.

I swore I would never return here, but that morning on Blackridge Peak, with the shaman and everything else, it stirred too many memories. Bringing things to the surface that I had wanted to keep buried. I didn’t want to deal with those memories. Not then. Not ever.

“So why are you back here, Caleb?” I asked myself as I opened my eyes and stared at the blue-gray of the morning sky. I knew that answer. I had wanted to put distance between me and anybody that was pack. No one came here. This mountain was a monument to the dead.

My dead.

As the surviving alpha, no other pack could move onto this mountain until I gave up my claim of it to the Pack Council. I hated what happened here. I hated being here, but the thoughtof another pack here…bringing life and laughter to this land that my father died for…I hated that more.

The log cabin that Willow had focused on in her drawings lurked in the morning shadows, once a place of peace and love, now a memorial to everything I lost here.