Chapter 14: Chapter Fourteen
Chapter 14:
Quinn’s POV
The scent of frost and betrayal lingered in the air as I cracked open the back door of the bookstore, my dagger gripped tightly in my hand. The alley beyond was shrouded in darkness, the moon hidden behind thick clouds, but my wolf senses caught the faint rustle of movement, the sharp tang of a scent I knew too well. Frostclad. My heart pounded, not just from fear but from the sickening realization that I was standing at the edge of something I couldn’t control. Whoever was out there wasn’t just passing through, they’d come for me, or worse, for Lia.
I stepped into the alley, my eyes scanning the shadows, my wolf clawing at my chest, ready to shift if needed. “Show yourself,” I called, my voice low but steady, the dagger a cold comfort in my grip. “I know you’re there.”
A low chuckle slithered out of the dark, and my blood chilled as a figure stepped into the faint glow of the streetlamp. Not Connor, but one of his lieutenants, Rafe, a lean wolf with a smirk that made my skin crawl. He leaned against the wall, casual, like he wasn’t here to threaten me. But I knew better. The Frostclad didn’t show up for friendly chats.
“Quinn Colby,” Rafe drawled, his voice dripping with mockery. “The Ironclad’s loyal little bookkeeper. Or are you?”
My grip on the dagger tightened, my wolf growling low in my throat. “What do you want, Rafe? If Connor’s got a message, spit it out and get lost.”
He tilted his head, his smirk widening. “Oh, Connor’s got plans, but I’m here for you. Word is, you’re not as loyal as Edgar thinks. Keeping secrets, hiding old journals, whispering about moonbound mates.” He took a step closer, his eyes glinting with malice. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Quinn. And we both know you’re not as innocent as you pretend.”
My stomach twisted, the photograph of Lia’s mother flashing in my mind. I’d kept it hidden, not out of betrayal, but because I didn’t know what it meant yet. Had someone seen me digging through the archives? Was that why Rafe was here, sniffing around like he knew my every move? “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, my voice sharp, masking the panic rising in my chest. “I’m Ironclad. Always have been.”
“Are you?” Rafe’s voice was soft, almost teasing, but it cut like a blade. “Because I hear things, Quinn. Whispers about a certain bookstore girl who’s jealous of the new moonbound. Lia’s got Edgar’s heart, his bond, everything you’ve wanted since you were a pup mooning over him. Must sting, watching her take your place.”
My wolf snarled, rage flaring hot and fast, but I forced it down, my face a mask. He was baiting me, trying to crack my loyalty, and I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. “You’re wasting your time,” I said, stepping closer, my dagger glinting in the dim light. “If you’ve got nothing real to say, get out of my alley before I make you.”
Rafe laughed, a cold, hollow sound, but he didn’t back down. “Oh, I’ve got something real. A choice. Connor’s offering you a way out. Help us get Lia, and you’ll have a place with the Frostclad. Power, respect—maybe even Edgar, once we break that bond of his. Or…” He paused, his eyes narrowing. “You stay loyal to a clan that’ll never see you as more than a shop girl, and we come for you next.”
My blood ran cold, but I didn’t flinch. The idea of betraying Edgar, betraying the Ironclad, made my stomach churn, but Rafe’s words hit a nerve I didn’t want to admit was there. I’d spent years watching Edgar, hoping he’d see me, but he never had not the way he saw Lia. The jealousy was there, a bitter seed I’d tried to bury, but it was growing, twisting with every glance he gave her, every protective growl. Still, I wasn’t a traitor. I wouldn’t be.
“You think I’d sell out my clan for you?” I spat, my voice low, dangerous. “You’re dumber than you look, Rafe. Tell Connor to shove his offer. I’m Ironclad, and if you come for Lia, you’ll have to go through me first.”
Rafe’s smirk didn’t waver, but his eyes darkened, a predator sizing up prey. “Brave words. But we know about the journals, Quinn. About Lia’s mother. You’re sitting on secrets that could bring the Ironclad down. And when Edgar finds out you’ve been hiding them…” He let the words hang, a threat wrapped in a promise, then stepped back into the shadows. “Think about it. You don’t have long.”
He was gone before I could respond, his scent fading into the night, leaving me alone with the weight of his words. My hands shook as I lowered the dagger, my mind racing. The photograph, the journals, Lia’s mother, they were pieces of a puzzle I hadn’t solved, but they were dangerous. If Edgar found out I’d kept them from him, would he think I was the traitor? Would Lia? I leaned against the wall, my breath ragged, the cold brick grounding me as my wolf whined, torn between loyalty and fear.
I slipped back into the bookstore, locking the door behind me, my eyes drifting to the hidden room where the journals waited. I’d meant to tell Lia about her mother, to figure out what it all meant, but now it felt like a trap. Rafe knew too much, and if he knew, Connor did too. The Frostclad were closing in, and I was caught in the middle, my loyalty to the clan warring with the jealousy I couldn’t shake.
I sank into a chair, my head in my hands, the photograph’s image burned into my mind, Lia’s mother, standing beside a man who looked like Edgar, tied to the Ironclad in ways I didn’t understand. I’d wanted to protect Lia, to be her friend, but every choice I made seemed to pull me deeper into this mess. Rafe’s offer was poison, but it lingered, whispering doubts I didn’t want to face. Betray Lia, betray Edgar, or stay loyal and risk everything, none of the options were clean.
The bell jingled again, and I jumped, my wolf senses flaring. I grabbed the dagger, ready to fight, but it was only Lia, stepping inside, her amber hair loose, her eyes sharp with that reckless fire. “Quinn,” she said, her voice cautious but urgent. “We need to talk. About the clan. About everything.”
My heart sank, Rafe’s words echoing in my head. She didn’t know about the journals, about her mother, but the way she looked at me—like she was searching for cracks—made me wonder if she suspected something. I forced a smile, tucking the dagger behind the counter. “Sure,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “Let’s talk.”