Beta Hybrid (Triple Moon Pack Book 3) by Robyn Herzman

Author:Robyn Herzman [Herzman, Robyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-04-03T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

Mordecai

The closer we get to the Fae Origin, the sharper my wolf senses become. The hair rises at the back of my neck. My ears strain so much my neck twitches. Listening, sensing, watching, for any sign of an attack.

Zenna tosses me glances, her blonde brows arched, as though she thinks I’m overdoing it. She tells me as much through the bond. But I know that Vale and Divina are doing the same.

We’re walking into an Origin’s territory, better safe than sorry. Just because Zen was invited—or lured—doesn’t mean we’re welcome.

I don’t know how far we are from the cabin in the tree my mate described, but there might be warnings, traps, or sentries in place. Or all of the above. I don’t want any of us caught off guard.

We’re deep within the mountainous woods. It wouldn’t take me long to run back to Noah’s camp in my wolf form—a few hours, pushing it—but help is far away. If something does go wrong, reinforcements won’t be coming to our aid.

I glance at Zenna. Have you ever met another fae?

No.

Are you excited? I’ve never met one, either.

I’m not sure, she says down the bond. I keep alert. Luckily, the woods are my element. I’m used to the cacophony of mixed smells, able to identify all the usual ones of water, bark, trees, animals and the hint of rain from above.

Zenna’s blue eyes find mine. ‘What if there doesn’t have to be a war?’ She says aloud for the group to hear. ‘What if it’s only Drusilla who wants trouble? Who says it has to lead to bloodshed after all?’

‘What other option is there?’ Divina asks with interest. ‘I don’t imagine the undead want to return to their graves.’

Vale watches her. ‘Why would they want to be undead, though?’

‘Isn’t Drusilla, a vampire, undead already?’ Zen asks.

‘Yes,’ Divina says. ‘I suspect she was least affected by her, uh, awakening.’

The mountain begins to slope upwards under our feet, the start of our ascent.

I think we’re getting close, Zen warns.

I partially zone out of the conversation to focus on our surroundings. The woods aren’t exactly quiet. The normal skittering of bugs and small woodland creatures fills the air, as well as birdsong, the aching creak of old branches sighing in the breeze. But an unusual tightness in the air makes me hold a hand up.

I have to give the group credit. Despite the conversation, they all freeze immediately. Even Reagan.

What is it? Zen asks.

I don’t respond. My gaze scans every inch around us, taking in every leaf, every pebble on the ground, the angle of the mountain ahead of us, and the slope at our backs. Everything seems normal.

Except the tightness in the air, in my own chest, which tells me otherwise.

We’re not alone.

I shift into wolf form. Vale a moment behind me. Bones crunching, elongating. Teeth sharpening, my claws sprouting forth. I land on all fours, low to the ground. I can smell it now. Something different. Like earth, but sticky. Almost… copper-scented. Tangy.

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