forests around Haldis Cavern; Shay and all of Sabine’s former packmates. They seemed happy, and nothing about their existence smacked of nefarious forces at work.
But how could Sabine say that to Shay’s mother? Sarah had regained her son only to lose him again in the space of an hour.
“I could take you to see him,” Sabine offered. “I visit the wolves. Well, I mean I don’t actually visit them. Wolves are skittish around people. You have to watch from a distance, but . . .”
Sarah bowed her head, and though she made no sound, Sabine could tell she was crying.
REN HADN’T forgotten who he was.
Renier Laroche, alpha wolf, who would rule the newly formed Haldis pack with his mate, Calla Tor.
His path had always been clear. His was the arrow shot straight at destiny’s bull’s-eye.
But someone had moved the target and Ren had gotten terribly lost.
And it wasn’t just because he was dead, which Ren understood that he was. He’d lost his way long before the man who had raised him, Emile Laroche—who Ren believed for so long was his father—had snapped Ren’s neck in the library at Rowan Estate.
In the days and weeks since he’d been taken from the world of the living, Ren had tried to pinpoint the moment where it had all gone wrong. It wasn’t as though he had a dearth of possibilities to choose from.
It might have been the night he left the house that had been built for him and Calla to live in. The moment he’d turned his back on the Keepers, forsaking the life he was supposed to have for one he never could have imagined. A new life that ended up being much too short.
Or it could have been when Ren watched Emile Laroche kill the man who it turned out was Ren’s biological father. Ren never had the chance to know Monroe, but at least he’d met Adne. It was no small thing to have a sister. But in the end, she’d been taken from Ren too.
Another contender had to be the night of his eighteenth birthday. Samhain was a day sacred enough to bear witness to the union of an alpha male and female and the formation of a new Guardian pack. But the ritual had never taken place. Instead, Ren had chased through the dense Colorado forest after Calla, his runaway bride. That she’d left him at the altar was bad enough, but the reason she gave was worse: that everything they’d known about who they were and the history of the war in which they’d fought had been lies. That Ren’s own mother had died at the hands of the Keepers.
And of course, there was the day that a new student arrived at the Mountain School. Seamus Doran had seemed as inconsequential as any human, but Ren’s first impression of Shay couldn’t have been more wrong. As it turned out, Shay had another name—the Scion—and while the Guardians had been fighting on the wrong side of the Witches’ War, Shay’s destiny was to be the champion of the right side. The Searchers had come for Shay and they’d taken Calla too. Calla and the life Ren wanted, because somewhere between blood and lies and choices, Calla had fallen in love with Shay Doran.
Ren didn’t like Shay. He would never like Shay. But Ren knew enough to see that his life had been thrown off course by forces greater and much more complicated than his sometime romantic rival’s appearance in Vail.
Maybe that had been Ren’s downfall—making the battle one between himself and Shay, rather than seeing how much more was at stake.
He saw all of it too well now, caught as he was between worlds. His state of unrest came with an acute awareness of the unseen forces that hovered around the living at all times, jostling each other as they searched high and low for cracks in the earth’s spiritual armor, hoping to slip in even though they’d been banished.
Ren was careful not to get too close to the shades he saw passing to and fro. Along with his sense of them, he also knew somehow that he wasn’t one of them.
He was different. Exceptional. And while that sounded like it
But how could Sabine say that to Shay’s mother? Sarah had regained her son only to lose him again in the space of an hour.
“I could take you to see him,” Sabine offered. “I visit the wolves. Well, I mean I don’t actually visit them. Wolves are skittish around people. You have to watch from a distance, but . . .”
Sarah bowed her head, and though she made no sound, Sabine could tell she was crying.
REN HADN’T forgotten who he was.
Renier Laroche, alpha wolf, who would rule the newly formed Haldis pack with his mate, Calla Tor.
His path had always been clear. His was the arrow shot straight at destiny’s bull’s-eye.
But someone had moved the target and Ren had gotten terribly lost.
And it wasn’t just because he was dead, which Ren understood that he was. He’d lost his way long before the man who had raised him, Emile Laroche—who Ren believed for so long was his father—had snapped Ren’s neck in the library at Rowan Estate.
In the days and weeks since he’d been taken from the world of the living, Ren had tried to pinpoint the moment where it had all gone wrong. It wasn’t as though he had a dearth of possibilities to choose from.
It might have been the night he left the house that had been built for him and Calla to live in. The moment he’d turned his back on the Keepers, forsaking the life he was supposed to have for one he never could have imagined. A new life that ended up being much too short.
Or it could have been when Ren watched Emile Laroche kill the man who it turned out was Ren’s biological father. Ren never had the chance to know Monroe, but at least he’d met Adne. It was no small thing to have a sister. But in the end, she’d been taken from Ren too.
Another contender had to be the night of his eighteenth birthday. Samhain was a day sacred enough to bear witness to the union of an alpha male and female and the formation of a new Guardian pack. But the ritual had never taken place. Instead, Ren had chased through the dense Colorado forest after Calla, his runaway bride. That she’d left him at the altar was bad enough, but the reason she gave was worse: that everything they’d known about who they were and the history of the war in which they’d fought had been lies. That Ren’s own mother had died at the hands of the Keepers.
And of course, there was the day that a new student arrived at the Mountain School. Seamus Doran had seemed as inconsequential as any human, but Ren’s first impression of Shay couldn’t have been more wrong. As it turned out, Shay had another name—the Scion—and while the Guardians had been fighting on the wrong side of the Witches’ War, Shay’s destiny was to be the champion of the right side. The Searchers had come for Shay and they’d taken Calla too. Calla and the life Ren wanted, because somewhere between blood and lies and choices, Calla had fallen in love with Shay Doran.
Ren didn’t like Shay. He would never like Shay. But Ren knew enough to see that his life had been thrown off course by forces greater and much more complicated than his sometime romantic rival’s appearance in Vail.
Maybe that had been Ren’s downfall—making the battle one between himself and Shay, rather than seeing how much more was at stake.
He saw all of it too well now, caught as he was between worlds. His state of unrest came with an acute awareness of the unseen forces that hovered around the living at all times, jostling each other as they searched high and low for cracks in the earth’s spiritual armor, hoping to slip in even though they’d been banished.
Ren was careful not to get too close to the shades he saw passing to and fro. Along with his sense of them, he also knew somehow that he wasn’t one of them.
He was different. Exceptional. And while that sounded like it
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