Chapter 13: Chapter Thirteen

Chapter 13

Quinn’s POV

The bookstore was too quiet, the kind of quiet that made my skin itch and my wolf pace restlessly beneath my bones.

I leaned against the counter, my fingers drumming a nervous rhythm, my eyes darting to the door every few seconds. Lia hadn’t shown up for work again, and after last night’s chaos at her cabin, word of the Frostclad attack had spread through the Ironclad clan like wildfire, I wasn’t surprised. But I was worried. Too worried.

I shouldn’t have gone to her cabin yesterday. I shouldn’t have told her about the clan’s curse, the Frostclad Knights, or Connor’s obsession with her. But the guilt had been eating at me, gnawing at my insides like a hungry beast. I’d let her walk into that festival blind, thinking she could handle it, thinking she wasn’t fully human. I’d been wrong, and now she was caught in a war she didn’t understand, with a moonbound mark tying her to Edgar and a target on her back bigger than the full moon.

The bell above the door jingled, and my head snapped up, my wolf senses sharpening. Edgar stepped inside, his broad frame filling the doorway, his dark eyes locking onto me with an intensity that made my stomach twist. He looked like hell, blood still crusted on his shirt from the fight, his jaw tight with barely contained rage. The air around him crackled with alpha energy, and my wolf wanted to bare its neck, but I held my ground, straightening up behind the counter.

“Quinn,” he said, his voice low, a growl lurking beneath it. “We need to talk.”

My heart stuttered, but I kept my face neutral, my hands steady as I pushed a stack of books aside. “About what? Lia? I heard about the attack. She okay?”

His eyes narrowed, searching me like he could smell the truth, or the lie, on me. “She’s alive. No thanks to whoever’s feeding Connor information.” He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming, the bond between him and Lia practically radiating off him. It made my chest ache, a bitter pang I tried to ignore. “You know anything about that, Quinn?”

I swallowed, my throat dry. He didn’t trust me. I could see it in the hard set of his jaw, the way his hands clenched at his sides. And why should he? I’d kept things from Lia, from him, even if it was to protect the clan. “You think I’m the traitor?” I said, my voice sharp, masking the hurt. “After everything I’ve done for the Ironclad? I’ve been loyal, Edgar. You know that.”

“Do I?” He leaned forward, his hands gripping the counter, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “You knew Lia was different. You let her go to the festival, didn’t tell her what it was. And now the Frostclad know exactly where she is. Explain that.”

My wolf bristled, but I forced it down, meeting his gaze. “I made a mistake with the festival. I thought she could handle it, thought she wasn’t human. I didn’t know she was moonbound, Edgar. I swear.” The words felt heavy, half-true. I hadn’t known about the mark, not then, but I’d sensed something about her, something that drew me in and made me jealous in a way I didn’t want to admit. Lia, with her sharp tongue and fearless heart, had walked into Duskwood and caught Edgar’s attention in a way I never could.

He didn’t move, his eyes boring into mine, searching for the crack in my story. I held his gaze, my heart pounding, knowing one wrong move could shatter everything. “If you’re lying,” he said, his voice cold, “if you’re the one betraying us, I’ll find out. And you know what happens to traitors.”

A chill ran through me, but I didn’t flinch. “I’m not the one you should be watching,” I said, my voice steady despite the fear curling in my gut. “Someone else is playing games, Edgar. Someone closer than you think.” I didn’t dare say more, not yet, not when I wasn’t sure myself. There were whispers in the clan, shadows moving in the dark, but pointing fingers without proof would only make things worse.

He straightened, his expression unreadable, but the bond’s energy shifted, a flash of doubt mixing with his anger. “Keep an eye on her,” he said finally, his voice gruff. “She’s coming here tomorrow. Start teaching her the basics, control, scent, tracking. Nothing advanced. I’ll handle the rest.”

I nodded, my throat tight. “Fine. But she’s not going to like being babysat.”

“She doesn’t have a choice,” he snapped, turning toward the door. He paused, glancing back, his eyes softening just a fraction. “And Quinn? If you know something, tell me. Before it’s too late.”

The door slammed behind him, the bell jangling harshly, and I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. My hands shook as I gripped the counter, my wolf whining in my chest, torn between loyalty to the clan and the jealousy I couldn’t shake. Lia was his mate, moonbound, chosen by the moon itself. And me? I was just the bookstore girl, the one who’d watched Edgar from afar for years, knowing he’d never look at me the way he looked at her.

I moved to the back of the store, to the small room Lia didn’t know about, the one filled with old journals and clan records. My fingers brushed the worn leather of a book I’d been reading last night, one that mentioned moonbound mates and the curse that bound them. The Ironclad clan’s history was soaked in blood, in betrayals that tore families apart. I hadn’t told Lia everything, hadn’t told her about the whispers of a traitor closer to Edgar than he’d ever suspect, someone who’d do anything to keep the clan’s power in their hands.

My eyes caught on a faded photograph tucked between the pages, one I hadn’t shown Lia. A woman with amber hair, just like hers, standing beside a man who looked too much like Edgar to be a coincidence. Lia’s mother. I’d found it weeks ago, hidden in the archives, and it had raised questions I wasn’t ready to answer. Was she tied to the Ironclad? To the curse? I didn’t know, but the more I learned, the more I feared for Lia, and for myself.

A sharp knock at the back door made me jump, my wolf senses flaring. I slipped the photograph back into the book, my heart racing. “Who’s there?” I called, my voice sharper than I meant.

No answer, just another knock, slow and deliberate. My wolf growled, sensing danger, but I moved to the door anyway, my hand on the dagger I kept hidden under the counter. I wasn’t Lia, reckless and new to this world. I was Ironclad, born and bred, and I’d protect my clan, and myself, no matter the cost.

But as I opened the door, the scent hit me first, sharp and familiar, laced with frost and betrayal. My blood ran cold. This wasn’t just a warning. This was a move in a game I hadn’t realized I was playing. And Lia, Edgar, and I were all pawns.