Chapter 6 6

Blake's place was massive  open plan, warm, and loud with the crackle of a fire. He was off the sofa before we'd even closed the door.

"Raven. Nathan. Are you staying or crashing?"

"Staying," I said. I needed to wind down, and Blake had that rare effect on people  you relaxed around him whether you wanted to or not.

Reynolds bolted the door and dropped our bags. We both kicked off our shoes, an old habit my mum drilled into me. Blake was already in the fridge.

"Beer?"

Reynolds looked at me. "Go ahead," I said. We had four fire elementals outside and no immediate threat. He'd earned it. "I'm good," I called to Blake. Beer wasn't my thing.

We sank into the sofas. Blake tossed me a blanket and I pulled it tight, watching the fire. The tension from the portal slowly peeled away. Fires did that to me  always.

"How's Vincent?" Blake asked.

"Smitten," I said, smiling. Vincent was Morgan's nickname, don't ask.

"Emma mentioned. Ryan seems solid."

"He is," Reynolds said flatly. Ryan had been his boss before the change. That bond hadn't broken.

Blake's expression shifted. "Good. Because something's brewing between the creatures and the humans. If Ryan can't keep a lid on it"

"No politics." I pressed my head back against the sofa. "Please."

Blake grinned and grabbed the remote. Sex in Finn filled the screen. He winked at me.

Reynolds went very still.

I stared straight ahead.

The episode was feisty. My cheeks burned through most of it. I absolutely refused  to look at Reynolds. Blake watched me suffer with open enjoyment.

The second it ended, I grabbed my bag. "Night."

I didn't wait for a response.

In my room, I ran through my routine  makeup off, cleanse, tone, moisturise. Non-negotiable. My mum swore by it, and at sixty she looked forty. She wasn't my biological mother, so I had no idea what aging had in store for me  but moisturiser wasn't going to hurt.

Pink silk pyjamas. Clean sheets. I should've been out cold.

Instead, I lay there missing Raven.

It was strange  I hadn't realised how much her quiet presence anchored me until it was gone. Not a talker, Raven. Just there, steadily, like a hand on your shoulder. I wondered if she felt this emptiness too, wherever the portal had taken her.

"Night, Raven," I whispered.

Silence.

Sleep came eventually, heavy and dreamless.

My phone screamed at 4:10 a.m.

I jolted upright, heart slamming. The number on the screen stopped me cold. It was a mansion. The pack. They had never called me. Not once.

My stomach dropped.

Nobody calls at 4:10 a.m. with good news.

"Raven speaking."

Silence on the other end. Long, uncomfortable silence  like whoever it was hadn't fully decided to make this call.

Then: "You should be here." Cador's voice. Low. Careful. "The others didn't want me to call. But you should be here."

"Why? What happened?"

"Ivan is dead."

The line went quiet. He hung up.

I sat frozen.

Ivan. Dead. 

That wasn't possible. Ivan was third in the pack, arrogant, insufferable, built like a wall. Werewolves didn't just die. We were fast, strong, nearly impossible to put down.

Whatever had killed him wasn't targeting him.

It was sending a message.

I threw off the blanket and ripped open my duffel. Pale jeans. A pink flamingo shirt. I stared at them.

Of course.

I hadn't packed for a murder scene. But I couldn't wear yesterday's clothes  without half the pack currently in wolf form and a nose for every hour I'd been in them.

Flamingos it was.

I buttoned the flamingo shirt and made a silent deal with the universe  letting Ivan have died choking on something stupid. A peanut. A grape. Anything but what my gut was already telling me.

The guys were at the breakfast bar when I walked out. Coffee steaming, croissants half-eaten, completely unaware their morning was about to turn.

"Early rise," Reynolds said without looking up.

"Ivan's dead."

His mug stopped halfway to his mouth.

Blake set him down.

I watched both of them process it and waited.

"We left." Reynolds said it quietly, almost to himself. "Of all the nights" He exhaled. "Raven, listen to me. Ivan had been building a case against you since the beginning. Everyone knew a challenge was coming. Now he turns up dead the one night you're not there?" He shook his head. "That's not grief for them. That's ammunition."

My stomach turned. "You told me he wasn't a threat yet."

"I know."

"You said he'd come around."

"I know."

"Were you ever going to tell me the truth or just keep managing me like a child?"

He put the mug down. "I thought we had a window. Ivan didn't move fast; he was the type to watch and wait, find every crack before he struck. I was using that time to get you ready." A pause. "I miscalculated."

I took his croissant. Ate half of it standing up. The butter was good. It didn't help.

"Don't do it again," I said, still chewing. "I'm not asking for perfect answers. I'm asking for real ones. You're supposed to be on my side and act like it."

Something shifted in his expression. Not guilt exactly. Closer to respect.

"Understood," he said.

Blake drummed his fingers once on the counter. "Cameras cover the whole building  entry, exit, and every floor. Proving you were both here is simple."

"About that." Reynolds set his jaw. "I stepped out at once. Didn't get back until three."

The croissant turned to cardboard in my mouth.

"Tell me you took one of Blake's guys with you."

"I didn't."

"Reynolds."

"I've handled worse than whatever's out there without"

"You had four fire elementals twenty feet away and you left alone at one in the morning the night someone from the pack was murdered." I looked at Blake. "Can his ego be classified as a threat to national security? Asking genuinely."

"Noted," Blake said drily. "Though for the record, fire elementals aren't weapons. Half my people are in the fire brigade. We contain, we don't attack."

"Silas did."

The word landed wrong. Blake's expression closed off slightly.

"Silas was broken," he said. "Charismatic enough that we didn't see it until he started burning people alive at his little gatherings. Emma has spent years rebuilding what he destroyed." The way he said Emma  quiet, certain  said everything. She'd inherited the wreckage and turned it into something worth leading.