Monday morning, everything goes to hell.
The Griffith family home is a castle, of course. Located off the south-west coast of Wales, the stone castle has stood on the tiny island of Ynys Dewi for generations.
There are no wolves on Ynys Dewi. Just one fox shifter family whose members have acted as caretakers of the castle for as long as it’s been there.
Monday morning, I get word that Arwel Tannor and his wife Elinor have been found in their den. Slaughtered.
And there’s a message on my phone from Zyrian. It’s short but effective. Surrender your mate and the Bloodstone, or I promise you, this is only the start of the massacre.
Bile rises in my throat. Arwel and Elinor never hurt anyone in their lives. They were kind and gentle, devoted to their children and grandchildren.
Wordlessly, I hold my phone toward Bastian. He reads the message, and his expression turns grim. “Maybe what happened to Mateo wasn’t just a random act of violence,” he says, his voice vibrating with tension.
Aria takes the phone from Bastian, and her eyes scan the screen. “Zyrian,” she says quietly. “Oh Rhys, I’m so sorry.” She puts her arms around me, and I hold her tight, but for the first time, it doesn’t provide comfort.
I’ve always been able to see the positive in every situation. Always been quick with a joke, a laugh. I’ve pushed Bastian and the others to stop taking life so seriously. Reminded them that duty is all very well, but we can’t forget to live.
Not now.
“I’ve got to go to Wales,” I mutter. “There’ll be a funeral. I’ve got to make sure Arwel’s family is taken care of.”
“No,” Bastian says flatly. “Call them. Send flowers. But you can’t go to Wales. Not now. It isn’t safe for us to get separated.” His expression turns troubled. “Please don’t make me pull rank on this, Rhys.”
I glare at Bastian, but deep down, buried under the sea of pain I’m in, I know he’s right. The only way we can defeat Zyrian is if we all act together.
13
Aria
Rhys’ news puts a damper on us. At noon, Bastian hauls me to his study. “I’m going to call Tomas,” he says quietly. “I thought you might want to talk to Silas as well.”
I give him a grateful smile. “You knew I’d be freaking out?”
“You’re not the only one who’s concerned.” He dials New York. Even though it’s six in the morning back home—I’ve become really good at time zone calculations since I’ve been here—Tomas picks up on the first ring.
Bastian puts him on speaker phone so that I can hear the conversation. “Lord Jaeger, how can I help you?”
“Castle Griffith’s caretakers, Arwel and Elinor Tannor have been found murdered this morning,” Bastian says bluntly.
“The fox shifters?”
Bastian closes his eyes. I wonder if he knew the Tannors. He must have. Rhys, Casius, and Mateo act like they’ve known Frau Ziegler and Wilhelm all their lives.
God, this sucks. Fucking Zyrian.
“Yes,” Bastian confirms wearily. “Double the guards around Silas Archer. You probably should tell Lukus Hyde what’s going on too. Just in case the violence spills over to his pack. And the Norm girl, Aria’s friend…”
“Bea,” I interject helpfully. “Hey, Tomas. It’s Aria.”
“Hello, Ms. Archer,” he replies. “How are you enjoying Castle Jaeger?”
“I’ve only gotten lost twice in the last two days,” I reply dryly.
Tomas laughs. “The castle is a maze,” he agrees. “Wilhelm has a map. Ask him for a copy. It’ll help. And don’t worry about things here,” he adds reassuringly. “We’ll take care of Ms. Connelly and Mr. Archer.” Tomas’ tone turns wary. “Lord Jaeger, there’s one more thing.”
“Should I go?” I ask.
Bastian shakes his head. “I don’t have secrets from you, little thief.” He puts his arm around me, and I rest my head on his shoulder. “What is it, Tomas?”
“There’s talk around Eclipse Pack that Alpha Hyde is going to ask Silas Archer to join them. Word is that Silas might be considering it.”
A smile grows on my face. For Silas to even think about joining Eclipse Pack—after all, he’s never thought very much about Lukus Hyde—things must be going really well with Sarina, so much so that he’s giving serious thought about the future.
I’ve asked many nosy questions every time I’ve spoken to him, but Silas has been surprisingly evasive about discussing his relationship with the wolf-shifter. Well, well, well. Good for Silas.
“It’s about time,” Bastian replies, sounding relieved. “The protection of a pack will be good for Silas. Especially now. Any word on Raedwulf and his associate?”
Tall, Dark, and Deadly. With everything going on, I’d almost forgotten about him.
“They’re still in Wyoming,” Tomas replies. “But I can’t get my team too close without risking getting caught. Sentinel Pack is secretive and reclusive. We’re using Norm technology to keep track of them from a distance. Would you like us to apprehend them, Lord Jaeger?”
“No.” Bastian’s expression turns frustrated. “As much as I want to get my hands on Raedwulf, I have a bad feeling that war is coming. We’ve got to stay focused on Zyrian’s threat. Guard Silas and Beatrice Connelly.”
Bastian’s right. War is coming. I can feel it in my blood. All I can do is hope no one else gets hurt.
More people get hurt.
Another week goes by. Sunday night, we’re watching another movie—Jason Bourne, this time, which all my guys have seen, of course, since it involves blood and shooting—when we receive word of an attack on Pack Helferich. Bastian, Casius, and Rhys rush out to help. When they return, they’re tired and dispirited. “We managed to beat them off,” Casius says gloomily. “But the damage was already done. One dead, seven badly wounded.”
My phone beeps. It’s a message from Zyrian. He can’t enter my dreams as long as I’m in Castle Jaeger, and he can’t probe my mind, but he can still taunt me through my cell phone.
How many people will have to die before you find the courage to face me?
I read the text. Rhys, who’s standing right next to me, catches a glimpse of the display. “He’s baiting you.”
“I know.”
“You can’t approach him. If he gets his hands on you, and on the Bloodstone, who knows what might happen. You can’t let Zyrian win.”
“I know,” I repeat wearily.
And I do. It’s just not easy to sit back as people are being attacked.
It doesn’t make it any easier the next day when we formally visit Pack Helferich to offer our condolences to the husband of the woman that was killed in the fight. It doesn’t make it easier to realize that she has a son, a little boy that will grow up never knowing his mother.
“This is not your fault,” Bastian says fiercely to me when he sees my expression. “If anything, it’s mine.”
“Are we playing ‘Take the Blame’ roulette?” I retort, a bitter tinge in my voice. “I know it’s not either of our faults. It’s Zyrian’s. But Bastian, we’re getting nowhere figuring out the curse. Mateo and Casius spend all their time in the library, and they’ve got nothing. How long do we wait before we take the fight to the Dark Dragon?”
“I will not risk you, Aria,” he replies firmly, his eyes sliding away from me.
I clench my fists in frustration. He’s right. Going off half-cocked, without weapons, without a plan, is the height of foolishness.
But cowering behind Maija Essen’s wards doesn’t feel right either.
14
Erik
Monday was Rhys’ turn for bad news. The Sunday after that, it was Bastian’s.
And on Wednesday, I get mine. This time though, it’s a message from a dragon, one I haven’t spoken to in almost five hundred years. Luka Mettler, Gisele’s father, wants to talk to me, and he’s just outside the K?nigsforst, waiting for my reply.
“It’s a trap,” Casius says at once. “Mettler is over twelve hundred years old. He’s been sulking in the Alps for centuries. Why this sudden need to talk to Erik? And at midnight?”
Bastian nods. “I agree with Casius.”
“As do I,” Rhys says promptly.