She tried to imagine how different her life would’ve been if she grew up here instead of the private schools and the four-story house she’d been raised in. Twenty-seven years old, and this was the first time she’d ever enjoyed something as simple as sitting on a porch, enjoying the scenery. A part of her regretted that it had taken so long to get here, to this moment.
Josey was engaged to be married, Jeremy already had a wife and young son, and they were both younger than her. And it wasn’t like she hadn’t tried her hand at dating, but the men who ran in her social circles never interested her for more than a few days. The conversations always went back to money. Wealth. Investments. Success. All the subjects she never wanted to talk about but knew, without a doubt, should she find herself on the receiving end of a diamond ring from one of those suitors, it was all she would be invited to talk about for the rest of her life.
So, her falling for Link so quickly was the least surprising decision her heart had made. He was real—a good man working and eking out a life in the Alaskan wilderness without help, or wealth, or family prestige propping him up. This right here, thinking about his kiss, sitting on the porch of her father’s house, watching small snowflakes begin to blanket the towering spruce trees around her…this was the realest moment she’d ever been a part of.
How could Mom have ever left this place? How could she have taken Nicole away from here, away from a man Aunt Rita said Mom had loved dearly?
Nicole tried to imagine Mom in the warm winter clothes she wore now instead of her sparkling dresses and fine jewelry, but she couldn’t. Mom hated the outdoors. She didn’t even enjoy being in their manicured backyard. “Too many bugs,” she always complained.
The clang of metal on metal startled Nicole, and she froze against the chair, listening. That sound didn’t belong in the quiet of her woods. In a rush, she grabbed the .30-06 that Hardware Jack had taught her how to use and checked the load with shaking hands. Lifting the gun to her shoulder, she stepped carefully around the side of the house in the direction of the noise.
The smell of oil hit her nose, and in the fresh snow, a few drops trailed from the generator to a can, laying on its side and leaking. There were boot prints in the snow, and Nicole frowned down at the scene, trying to make sense of the story the tracks told. They led off into the woods, toes dug deep like whoever had spilled the oil had been in a hurry.
The snow began falling harder now as she traced the trail with her gaze. The tracks would be covered soon, and she’d never know who had come onto Buck’s property. No, onto her property because she’d paid for this place in full and owned the deed. Before she could change her mind, she angled the gun in front of her and followed the tracks. She would see how far they led into the woods, make sure he was past her property line, and then circle back. It would take ten minutes, tops.
She made her way carefully past the tree line and into the wilderness beyond. With every step, the snowfall grew thicker and shortened her sight distance. There was something ahead on the ground, but as she approached, gun trained on the dark fabric, she couldn’t comprehend why on earth someone would leave their boots and clothes on the ground in the woods. There was only a thin layer of white on them, and when she poked one of the boots with the barrel of the gun, the leather moved easily. Not even frozen yet. But it was what lay beyond the pile of scattered clothes that had the hairs on the back of her neck raised from fear, not from the brutal cold.
There were wolf tracks. Just one set leading in a straight line away from the clothes.
Nicole squatted down and pulled the jacket to her nose. She inhaled and gasped, throwing the jacket away from her onto the ground at what it could mean. She knew that scent. It was Link. Shaking her head back and forth, she tried to piece together any explanation that made sense.
A lone howl lifted on the breeze, freezing her into place. With a terrified noise, she stumbled backward, almost losing her balance completely.
Link with the voices in his head. The wolf with the bright eyes, always visiting, always taking care of her in his own way. Nicole bolted for the cabin, feeling hunted. Link with the growl in his throat. She hadn’t understood the sound at first, but now it made horrifying sense. Link always hiding behind his sunglasses. Link and his superhuman strength.
With a fearful sound, Nicole ran as fast as she could through the crunching snow, sure at any moment the wolf would leap onto her back and rip her throat out. She was too scared to look behind her to see her death coming.
She jumped up the porch stairs two at a time, skidded inside, slammed the door behind her, and leaned her full weight against it. Gasping for oxygen, she stared at the snowy wilderness through the window across the cabin as her thoughts raced in circles.
She didn’t know everything yet, but she was sure of one thing.
Lincoln McCall wasn’t a man at all.
He was a monster.
Chapter Seven