Chapter 28: Maps and Lies

Seraphine's POV

Shadowmere was bigger than I expected.

The village sprawled across a wide clearing, wood structures blending seamlessly with the forest around them. Everything looked deliberately placed. Carefully planned.

Rich wolves with too much time on their hands.

But even I had to admit—it was impressive.

"The main roads form a Y-shape," Cordelia explained, gesturing ahead. "That branch goes to the residential area. The middle path leads to training grounds. And the left one heads toward the commercial district."

I nodded. Memorized.

Three main routes. Y-intersection at the center. Easy to navigate.

"The Alpha's house is at the very center," she continued. "Where all three paths meet."

Of course it is. Has to be the center of everything.

We walked down the middle path. Pack members nodded at Cordelia as we passed. Some smiled. Others just acknowledged her with raised hands.

They barely looked at me.

Good. The more invisible I am, the better.

"That building there is the pack house," Cordelia pointed to a large structure on our left. "Community meetings, gatherings, that sort of thing."

I studied it. The position. How far from the forest edge.

Maybe two hundred yards. Not ideal but doable.

"And over there—" She tugged me toward the right. "—that's the market square."

The square opened up before us. Wide cobblestone space surrounded by wooden stalls and shops. The smell of fresh bread hit me first. Then herbs. Something sweet.

Pack members everywhere. Talking. Laughing. Living.

Young wolves gathered near the fountain, some in human form, others practicing their shifts. Laughing. Easy. Natural.

An older woman called out prices. A blacksmith hammered metal in the corner, the rhythmic clang clang clang echoing.

It's so... normal.

I watched a teenage girl stumble mid-shift. Her form flickered between human and wolf, unstable. Clumsy.

Two older wolves immediately moved to help. One steadied her, murmuring encouragement. Another demonstrated the technique again, patient.

The girl tried again. Failed again.

But no one mocked her. No one looked away.

Lyralei should have this.

The thought hit hard. Sharp.

She should be here. Learning to shift properly. Having people who care enough to teach her.

Instead, she was alone in a forest. Scared. Probably hurt. And completely defenseless in human form.

Because of me.

My throat tightened.

"You okay?" Cordelia's voice pulled me back.

"Yeah." I cleared my throat. "Just—it's a lot to take in."

She smiled. "I know it can be overwhelming at first. But everyone here is family. We take care of each other."

I watched a baker hand a roll to a young boy who clearly had no money. Watched him wave away the kid's stammered thanks.

Family.

The word felt wrong. Foreign.

We're not family. We're just wolves who happened to end up in the same place.

But even as I thought it, I knew it wasn't entirely true.

These wolves chose to be here. Chose to stay. To build something together.

And I'm going to betray them. Run away in the night.

The guilt was immediate. Sharp.

I pushed it down.

For Lyralei. For revenge.

---

Cordelia led me past the market, down a narrower path.

"This is the training center," she said, stopping in front of a building with wide windows.

Through the glass, I could see teenagers gathered around practice mats. Some in human form, some mid-shift, learning control. An instructor at the front demonstrated transformation techniques.

One of the students raised their hand. The instructor smiled and called on them.

Normal. So fucking normal.

I found myself moving closer. Pressing against the window frame.

The instructor was explaining something about shift control. Energy management. Pack bonds. The students were engaged. Taking notes.

In the back, a teenage girl with dark hair struggled with her transformation. Her hand flickered—human, then claws, then human again. Unstable. The instructor moved over, helping her focus.

Lyralei would be here. Learning this. Instead of being stuck as human.

I could see it so clearly. Her frustrated expression. That stubborn set to her jaw when something didn't work right.

She'd hate needing help. But she'd need it.

Not running for her life in a forest where she couldn't even defend herself.

I closed my eyes. Forced the image away.

Can't think like that. Can't afford to break down.

"You were watching the center for a while," Cordelia said quietly. "Your sister—she hasn't learned to shift yet?"

"No," I said. "She's seventeen. Still struggling with it."

Cordelia's expression softened. "That must be hard. For both of you."

You have no idea.

"She'll figure it out," I said. "She just needs time. And safety."

Which she doesn't have because of me.

"She will," Cordelia said firmly. "Once we find her, she can train here. We have programs specifically for late shifters. Patient instructors."

If she's still alive to train.

"Maybe," I said instead.

Liar.

We kept walking.

---

The training grounds sprawled across the eastern edge. Open space with weapons racks, sparring circles, obstacle courses.

Several wolves were training. Practicing. Fighting.

I watched them. But my attention wasn't on the fighters.

It was on the edges.

Behind the training grounds, barely visible through the trees—a narrow path. Winding toward the forest boundary.

There.

I memorized it. The position. The angle. How many steps it would take at a full sprint.

Maybe thirty seconds. Less if I shift.

"The training grounds are open to all pack members," Cordelia was saying. "If you want to practice—"

"What's that path?" I interrupted, pointing.

She glanced where I indicated. "Oh, that? Just a back route to the eastern patrol stations. Guards use it for shift changes."

Perfect.

"Guards?" I kept my voice casual. Curious but not too curious.

"Three stations along the eastern boundary. Two wolves per station during the day. Usually just one at night though." She shrugged. "We haven't had any real threats in years."

Even more perfect.

I filed it away. Added it to the mental map forming in my head.

Eastern path. One guard per station at night. Three stations total.

"Come on," Cordelia tugged my arm. "Let me show you the shops."

I followed.

But my mind was still on that path. On the forest beyond it.

On freedom.

---

The commercial street was busier. More permanent structures. Actual buildings instead of stalls.

Cordelia stopped in front of a shop—Thornwood Textiles.

"The owner here might have work available," she said. "If you're interested in staying long-term."

I won't be.

"That's really kind of you," I said. "To think about that."

Stop being nice to me.

"Of course! You and Lyralei need stability. A place to call home." She smiled. "Shadowmere can be that place."

My chest tightened.

Don't make this harder than it is.

"Maybe you're right," I said quietly.

Lies.

Cordelia beamed. "You could work here, or at the medical center, or—oh!" Her eyes lit up. "You seemed so interested in the training center. Maybe you could help there? Assist with the late shifter programs?"

Teaching teenagers. Helping others like Lyralei. Building a life. Staying here.

The image was so clear it hurt.

Lyralei in a training room. Safe. Learning.

Me teaching. Contributing. Being part of something real.

It could never work. Damien would find us. And everyone here would die because of me.

"I don't know if I'm qualified," I said.