Chapter 72 Luca
Night patrol always started the same way like someone dimmed the lights backstage right before a show and everyone holding a role took their place in the shadows.
I was one of those roles.
I stood at the tree line pulling in the cold air, letting it burn through my lungs as my wolf prowled just under my skin. Mason arrived first, crunching across the needles with the swagger he always carried, even when his grades were hanging by a thread.
“You look stressed,” he said without even saying hello. “That whole forehead wrinkle thing is back.”
“I don’t have a forehead wrinkle.”
“You absolutely do,” he said, tapping my brow. “Right here. That’s your I’m-thinking-about-Aria face.”
I rolled my eyes. “We’re not talking about this.”
He grinned. “Then we’re definitely talking about it.”
Before I could respond, Rafe jogged in. “Sorry—I, uh—my mom made me eat before I left. She watched the whole thing.” He shuddered. “It was intense.”
Mason clapped him on the back. “That’s because you’re the golden child. She’s keeping you alive out of principle.”
Rafe laughed nervously. “Alright,” I said, shifting into future alpha mode. “Same formation. Mason on my left, Rafe on the ridge side. We sweep outward then circle back.”
They nodded, already slipping into their roles.
The thing about patrols was that they were part hunt, part neighborhood watch, and part group therapy. We’d had three minor threats this past week alone. Broken branches that weren’t broken by deer. Silver scraps and footprints that were too heavy to be human and too wrong to be animal. .
As we moved, the forest sounds faded until it was only us and our breaths.
“You ever think about how stupid this is?” Rafe whispered suddenly. “Like, we go to school pretending we’re normal thing and then at night we’re basically supernatural security guards.”
“That’s the job,” I said.
“It’s hilarious is what it is,” Mason commented. “I failed a chemistry quiz today because I came back from patrol late. Do you understand? This life is ruining my academic mediocrity.”
“You’re unbelievable,” I muttered.
But they weren’t wrong. Balancing lives was complicated in ways humans never thought about. They never saw us writing essays at midnight while also calculating patrol rotations. Or worrying about prom while tracking a hunter in the woods. Or juggling relationships with people who had no idea they might be kissing someone whose teeth could break bone when provoked.
Aria.
Her name slipped through me dangerous and warm.
“See?” Mason said. “Forehead wrinkle. Told you.”
I shoved him lightly. He laughed, stumbling only a step.
We walked deeper, the trees thickening around us. The canopy overhead blocked the moon, but my eyes adjusted fast. The earth smelled damp like old rain clinging to moss. A rustle somewhere to the right made Rafe stiffen.
“I’ve got it,” he whispered.
“No,” I said gently. “Just listen.”
Rafe froze. The sound continued then a blur shot across the brush—a fox, with a long tail and orange in the dim light.
Rafe sagged. “Oh, cool!”
Mason snorted. “You were ready to murder a fox, congrats.”
“Hey, I’m still learning,” Rafe muttered.
I nudged him. “You’re doing fine.”
We continued silently until we reached the first marker. Mason crouched beside a thick pine trunk running his fingers over the groove carved into the bark.
“That was from last night,” he said. “Near the northeast trail.”
“Means whoever or whatever is moving in that direction,” I said.
Rafe knelt beside us. “The hunter?”
“Maybe,” I said. “Or a rogue moving through.”
Rafe swallowed. “I don’t like the idea of someone testing anything.”
“Welcome to pack life,” Mason said.
We tracked the next mile in a triangle formation. At the second marker, we found something new. A torn piece of fabric snagged on a lower branch. I recognized the texture instantly—hunter weave, resistant to tearing, and reinforced with metallic threading.
Mason let out a low whistle. “That’s not great.”
“No,” I agreed.
Rafe’s eyes widened. “So they were here.”
“Or passed through,” I said. But even as I said it, my chest tightened. Hunters didn’t wander. They coordinated moves like a chessboard and this was too close to the ridge where the pack kids sometimes trained. Too close to the route Aria took when she cut through the woods on runs.
Rafe glanced at me. “Luca? You good?”
I snapped out of it. “Yeah.”
He didn’t buy it. Mason didn’t either but he let it go. We kept moving. The grove narrowed into a thin corridor of trees where the moon broke through in silver shafts. The air smelled wrong and I knew that scent too.
A twig cracked behind us. All three of us turned at once, instincts sharp and ready. My wolf lunged inside me, vision sharpening, and hearing exploding outward. I stepped forward, low and ready.
But it wasn’t a hunter.
It was a coyote and big one. It froze mid-step, looked at us with wide yellow eyes, then bolted into the brush.
Rafe laughed shakily. “Holy crap, I thought I was gonna die.”
“You need to relax,” Mason said, though his own hands were tense.
“You need to shut up,” Rafe shot back.
“Both of you,” I said, “quiet.”
But even I was on edge now. The woods held that brittle silence right before something breaks. It made every nerve stand alert. We reached the pond clearing, our endpoint and stood there in silence for a moment letting our senses settle.
“No major threats,” Mason said. “Just weird vibes.”
“Weird vibes count,” Rafe muttered.
I crouched near the water, touching the damp earth. “We report to the council tomorrow. Greta will want everything.”
Rafe nodded. “You think she’ll freak?”
“She always freaks,” Mason said. “That’s her whole personality.”
I smirked despite myself. Greta cared too much. It was exhausting but also grounding.
As we headed back, Mason nudged me. “You were quiet tonight.”
“I’m always quiet.”
“Not like that.” He paused. “You’re worried about the hunter and Aria.”
I didn’t deny it.
“She gets under your skin,” he said gently.
“She’s already under it,” Rafe added, then blushed. “Like not literally. I mean just emotionally.”
Mason stared at him. “Bro, never talk again.”
I shook my head, but they weren’t wrong. Aria was the danger I wanted and the weakness I feared.
The town lights blinking through the branches as we neared the edge. Patrol was over and another night survived. But tension still hummed between my ribs telling me this was only the beginning.
And somewhere out in the dark, the hunter was moving too.
AUTHOR’S NOTE:
This chapter practically wrote itself. I love showing the behind-the-scenes pack dynamics. The way they joke even when things are scary, and the way they stick by Luca without him ever asking. Tell me your favorite moment: Rafe thinking the fox was a monster? Mason bullying Luca about his “Aria wrinkle”? Or Luca, quietly losing his mind over a scrap of fabric? Drop your thoughts below because the next chapter is about to get very interesting♥️.