Vivian Cole is close to starting her junior year of college. She's out for one last run in her home state of Louisiana when everything changes for her.
Saul Moses is the Alpha of a dying pack in Alaska. When on business in the South, he encounters...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
In the end, Cain and Christian fish the body from the river. It's strange that they didn't call the police, especially since there was a literal corpse hidden on their property. She was tied down by some cinderblocks, or something, so she wouldn't resurface. I don't know how she died. And as I sit on the old couch, wrapped in a blanket, steaming mug of tea on the table, I'm less curious than I've ever been.
I can't stop seeing her. I don't even know how long she was down there. But given the state of the body, it was probably less than a week. Maybe. I actually don't know how bodies deteriorate under the water. It's all guesswork.
They're all in the kitchen now, huddled around Christian and Cain. Cain's black hair hangs limply down his shoulders, still soaked from their dive, while Christian looks as though he'd never jumped in in the first place. Cain's expression is the only one I can see straight-on and it's stern. Concerned. Angry. When Frankie's hands fly up to her mouth, sobs wracking her body, I know it was someone from their pack.
But why? Who would do such a thing? There's a niggling feeling in my stomach, harassing me, telling me—it was Killian Fucking Tucker. And if I'm right, then finding this woman's body may have saved my life.
They're all bundled together now, hugging, consoling. Saul squeezes Heidi's shoulder with care before he averts his attention back to me. I sip my tea to occupy myself with something other than that pained, intense, concerned expression he's giving me. I hate it. I hate how he looks at me with such deep emotion. Emotion that I've never been able to feel, not even for my own parents. That is, unless it's rage.
"Vivian," He murmurs, trying to tug my attention away from the steaming cup. I don't pay him any mind, though. "How are you feeling?" He asks softly, knowing that I heard him and chose to ignore him.
"Who was she?" My voice grates out without my permission. "Someone from your pack?"
He sighs out a heavy exhale and nods, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants, "Yeah, she was. You met her, actually. When you and Frankie went into town—"
"Ahnah," The name easily rolls off my tongue as I remember the elderly Tlingit woman. "Why would anyone want to hurt her?"
"I don't know how much detail you want, scintillula," He hesitates. So it must be gory. Despite my better judgment, I nod for him to continue. "Well," He pats his thighs before sidling up next to me on the couch. I scoot away from him a few inches, but don't make it too obvious. He's actually telling me something. Maybe trusting me? Wrong move, buddy. And although I'd hate to use the death of his loved one for my advantage, I most definitely will. I'll do anything to get the fuck out of here.
"You know, Lunae Novae isn't like other packs. I mean, there are a few like us, but not many."
