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The note is in Mira's handwriting.
I'd know it anywhere. Six years ago she used to slip me little folded squares during training, stupid jokes about the visiting alphas or which warrior she wanted to pin her against a tree. She was seventeen. I was eighteen. We were both kids who thought we'd grow old in Thornwood.
Now her handwriting looks sharper. Angrier.
*North ridge. Midnight. Alone. Burn this.*
I check the time on the old alarm clock beside Cade's bed. 11:47.
Thirteen minutes.
I shove the note into my mouth and chew. Paper turns to wet pulp on my tongue. I swallow it down and taste ink and six years of silence.
Cade's in the shower. I hear water running through the walls, steam curling under the bathroom door. He told me not to leave this room tonight. He said Damon's watching.
I pull on my boots anyway.
The window opens without a sound. I've been oiling the hinges for two weeks, just in case. The drop to the ground is only ten feet. I land in a crouch, wolf-light, and I'm gone before anyone sees.
The north ridge is a twenty-minute run. I make it in twelve.
She's waiting in the shadow of the old watchtower, the one Ironridge stopped using after they killed everyone who used to stand guard here. Mira looks different. Leaner. Harder. Her hair's chopped short and there's a scar running from her temple to her jaw.
She doesn't smile when she sees me.
"Took you long enough," she says.
I stop three feet away. My wolf's on edge. Something about her smells wrong. Not bad. Just... cold.
"You left me a button," I say. "In his room."
"I left you a message. Took me two months to get inside that packhouse." She tilts her head. "Heard you're luna now."
I don't answer.
"Heard you let him mark you."
My hand moves to my neck before I can stop it. The bond mark's still fresh. It throbs under my fingertips.
"It's cover," I say.
Mira laughs. It's not a nice sound.
"Cover. Right." She steps closer. Her eyes catch the moonlight and they're flat. Empty. "You smell like him, Sienna. You reek of Blackthorn."
"I'm doing what I have to do."
"Are you." It's not a question. She pulls something from her jacket. A vial. The liquid inside is dark red, almost black. "This is wolfsbane extract. Concentrated. Three drops in his drink and he's dead in an hour. Painful. Slow. The way they deserve."
I stare at the vial.
"I didn't come here for poison," I say.
"No. You came here because I'm the only one left who remembers what you're supposed to be doing." She holds the vial out. "Take it. Finish this."
"I need to know why first."
"Why?" Her voice spikes. "They slaughtered our families. They burned Thornwood to the ground. What other reason do you need?"
"Cade said his father didn't plan it. He said someone set us up."
Mira goes very still.
"And you believe him."
"I believe something else is happening. I found records. Payments. Thornwood was paying Ironridge for protection two months before the massacre. Why would we pay them if we were enemies?"
She doesn't answer right away. When she does, her voice is quiet. Dangerous.
"You're falling for him."
"I'm not."
"You're making excuses. You're looking for reasons not to kill him." She steps into my space. We're the same height but she feels bigger. Meaner. "I've spent six years putting together a network. Survivors. Allies. People who want Ironridge gone. We're ready to move. All we need is someone on the inside."
"To do what?"
"Burn it down. All of it. The packhouse. The families. Everyone who stood by and let it happen." Her smile is sharp. "You're perfectly placed, Sienna. You're his mate. His luna. He'll never see it coming."
My stomach twists.
"There are kids in that packhouse," I say.
"There were kids in Thornwood."
She's right. I know she's right. But the thought of it makes my wolf snarl and recoil.
"I need more time," I say.
"You're out of time. Damon's onto you. I heard what happened tonight. He saw your mark."
"Cade shut him down."
"Cade won't protect you when Damon digs up proof. And he will. He's smart. He's loyal. He won't stop." She presses the vial into my hand. "You want revenge or not?"
I close my fingers around the glass. It's warm from her pocket.
"I want the truth," I say.
Mira's face goes hard.
"Then you're a fool." She turns and walks away. Three steps. Four. Then she stops. "They killed your father, Sienna. They hung his body from the packhouse and let the crows eat him. If you can't remember that, you don't deserve the Thornwood name."
She shifts and she's gone.
I stand there with the vial in my hand and my chest so tight I can't breathe.
I don't know how long I stay like that. Long enough that the moon moves. Long enough that my legs start to ache.
I'm halfway back to the packhouse when I smell blood.
It's fresh. Human blood. No. Wolf blood. The scent hits me like a fist and my wolf surges up, alert.
I follow it off the path, into the trees. Twenty yards in, I find him.
Damon.
He's on his knees, one hand braced against a tree. His shirt's torn. There's blood on his mouth. His breathing's wrong. Short and shallow.
I should keep walking.
I should let him choke.
He's the one who's been watching me. Questioning me. Threatening to expose me. If he dies here, that problem's solved.
I take a step back.
He coughs. Blood splatters the ground. His hand slips and he goes down hard, face-first into the dirt.
I see Cade's face in my head. The way he looked at me tonight when he said Damon's his second. His brother in all but blood.
I hear my father's voice. *A Thornwood doesn't leave a wolf to die alone.*
I hear Mira's voice. *They don't deserve mercy.*
"Damn it," I say out loud.
I cross the distance and drop down beside him. Roll him onto his back. His eyes are half-open, unfocused. His lips are stained dark.
"Poison," I mutter. I can smell it now. Aconite. Someone dosed him.
His hand shoots out and grabs my wrist. His grip is weak but his eyes lock on mine.
"You," he rasps.
I yank my arm free. "Shut up and don't bite me."
I hook my hands under his arms and drag. He's heavy. Dead weight. My boots slip in the dirt and I go down on one knee. My pendant swings free from under my shirt. I feel the chain pull.
I don't notice it break.
I haul him another ten feet. Then another. My shoulders scream. My wolf's furious at me for saving him. I tell her to shut up too.
By the time I get him back to the path, I'm sweating and my hands are shaking. I can see the packhouse lights through the trees.
I let him drop. He hits the ground and groans.
"Someone'll find you," I say. My voice comes out rough. "You'll live."
I turn to go.
His fingers brush my ankle. I look down. His hand's closed around something. A thin silver chain. My stomach drops.
I reach for my neck. The pendant's gone.
No.
I drop down and try to pry his fingers open but they're locked tight. He's unconscious. He doesn't even know he's holding it.
I pull harder. His hand doesn't budge.
"Let go," I hiss.
Nothing.
I hear voices. Footsteps. Someone's coming.
I have two choices. Stay and get caught. Or run and let him wake up with Thornwood's crest in his hand.
I run.
I'm back in Cade's room before the search party finds Damon. I climb through the window, close it, strip off my boots and jacket and shove them under the bed.
The shower's off. Cade's standing in the doorway of the bathroom with a towel around his hips, his hair still wet.
He looks at me.
I look at him.
"You're sweating," he says.
I wipe my forehead. My hand comes away damp.
"Bad dream," I say.
His eyes narrow. He crosses the room in three strides and catches my chin, tilting my face up. His thumb brushes my cheekbone.
"You've got dirt on your face."
I don't breathe.
He leans in. His nose traces my temple, my jaw, the line of my throat. He's scenting me.
"You smell like the woods," he says softly. "And blood."
I meet his eyes. "So do you."
For a long moment neither of us moves.
Then his phone buzzes. He pulls it out, glances at the screen. His expression goes hard.
"Damon's down. Someone found him on the north path. Poisoned."
He's already moving, grabbing a shirt, pulling on boots. He stops at the door and looks back at me.
"Stay here," he says.
The door slams.
I sit down on the edge of the bed and press my palms against my knees to stop them shaking.
When Damon wakes up, he'll have my pendant. He'll see the Thornwood crest. The thorn and crescent moon that only the alpha's family wore.
He'll know exactly who I am.
And he'll tell Cade.