194

194

Lina's POV

I wake to sunlight streaming through unfamiliar curtains and the immediate, unsettling realization that something is wrong. The cottage we're staying in—Elena's guest house, she'd called it—feels heavy with an atmosphere I can't quite name. Tension, maybe. Or something darker.

Leo is already awake beside me, his gray eyes fixed on the ceiling with an intensity that tells me he's been thinking for a while.

"You feel it too," I murmur, not quite a question.

"She's been watching the house all night," he says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I can sense her moving around outside, circling like she's... studying us."

I shift closer to him, careful to keep our skin from touching directly. Even after Elena's stabilization potion yesterday, physical contact between Leo and me still sends uncomfortable jolts of energy through both of us.

"That's not normal behavior for a healer," I say, keeping my voice low. "Even one dealing with our... situation."

Through our bond, I feel Leo's agreement mixed with a growing wariness. "And the questions she's been asking. They're too specific, too focused on our weaknesses rather than our symptoms."

Finally, someone with sense, Snow's voice cuts through my thoughts, dripping with sarcasm. I've been trying to tell you that woman reeks of deception. Her scent is all wrong—like she's wearing someone else's skin.

The crude imagery makes me shudder, but Snow's instincts have never steered me wrong before. "Snow doesn't trust her either," I tell Leo through our mental link.

Leo's jaw tightens. "My wolf's been on edge since we arrived. Shadow keeps pacing, wanting to shift and run."

We lie in silence for a moment, both processing the implications. Elena saved our lives yesterday, taught us the basics of dimensional shielding that stopped the void hunters from tracking us. But something fundamental has changed overnight.

"We need to leave," I say finally. "Visit Amy and Noah, maybe. Get some distance while we figure out what's happening."

Leo nods, then pauses. "Through the link?" he suggests.

I open our mental connection wider, letting our thoughts flow more freely between us. We could reach out to the neighboring packs, I suggest silently. Daniel's pack to the east has always been friendly. They might offer sanctuary while we sort this out.

Good thinking. And if Elena really is compromised somehow, being around other wolves might force her to show her hand.

A sound from downstairs makes us both freeze—footsteps, deliberately heavy, as if Elena wants us to know she's awake and moving around.

She's waiting for us, Leo observes grimly.

Then let's not keep her waiting too long. But Leo? I meet his eyes. Stay close. Something about all this reminds me too much of...

I don't need to finish the thought. Paul MacKenzie's name hangs unspoken between us, along with all the memories of manipulation and false sanctuaries that turned into traps.



Downstairs, I find Elena in the kitchen, standing at the stove with her back to me. She's humming softly—a tune I don't recognize that somehow sets my teeth on edge.

"Good morning, dear," she says without turning around. "I hope you slept well."

"Well enough," I reply cautiously, staying near the doorway.

When she turns to face me, her smile is perfectly pleasant, perfectly normal. Which is exactly what makes my skin crawl. Yesterday, Elena was either manic with prophecy or intense with magical focus. This calm, domestic version feels like a mask.

"I've been thinking about our situation," she continues, setting down her coffee mug with deliberate precision. "About how best to help you and Leo manage your enhanced bond."

"Oh?" I keep my voice neutral, but every instinct is screaming at me to run.

"Yes. I think it would be beneficial for me to observe you both in different environments. Social situations, perhaps. How do you and Leo typically spend your time when you're not dealing with supernatural crises?"

The question is innocent enough, but something in the way she asks it—the slight emphasis on Leo's name, the way her eyes seem to catalog my every reaction—sends ice through my veins.

"We... we like quiet time together," I manage. "Reading. Talking with friends."

"Friends." Elena repeats the word like she's tasting something interesting. "And where do these friends live? Close by?"

My heart starts racing. The questions are too pointed, too much like the kind of information someone would need to track our movements, to know where we might go if we ran.

"Elena," I say slowly, "why do you need to know about our friends?"

Her smile never wavers, but something shifts in her eyes. Something cold and calculating that makes my chest tighten with familiar panic.

"I'm simply trying to understand the full scope of your social connections, dear. The enhanced bond affects not just you and Leo, but everyone around you. I need to assess the potential... ripple effects."

She takes a step toward me, and suddenly I'm not in Elena's kitchen anymore. I'm back in Paul MacKenzie's compound, listening to him explain his "concerns" for my wellbeing while his eyes promised violence. The walls seem to close in, and my breathing becomes shallow and rapid.

"Lina?" Elena's voice sounds different now—still concerned, but with an undertone that makes my wolf recoil. "You look pale. Are you feeling unwell?"

She moves closer, reaching out as if to touch my forehead, and I jerk backward so violently that I slam into the doorframe.

"Don't," I gasp, my hands shaking as the panic attack builds. "Don't touch me."

"Lina, you're having an episode. Let me help you—"

"No!" The word comes out as almost a growl. Snow is pushing forward, sensing threat, ready to protect us both. "Stay away from me."

Elena's expression shifts again, and for just a moment, I see something that makes my blood freeze. Not concern. Not confusion. Satisfaction. Like she's pleased that I'm falling apart.

Leo, I call desperately through our bond. Leo, I need you. Now.

The response is immediate—a flood of warmth and strength through our connection, followed by the sound of thundering footsteps on the stairs. Leo appears in the doorway behind me, taking in my panicked state and Elena's too-calm demeanor in a single glance.

"What happened?" he demands, his Alpha authority filling the room like a physical force.

"She was asking about our friends," I whisper, not taking my eyes off Elena. "Where they live. How often we see them."

Leo's arms come around me from behind, carefully avoiding skin-to-skin contact but still providing the shelter I need. Through our bond, he sends me images of safety—our bedroom at home, Sophia's warm kitchen, Amy's laughing face—and gradually, my breathing begins to slow.

"Why would you need that information, Elena?" Leo asks, his voice deceptively calm.

Elena's mask slips just a little more. "As I told Lina, the enhanced bond has far-reaching effects. I need to understand—"

"No." Leo's voice cuts through her explanation like a blade. "You need to understand that we're not prisoners here. And interrogating my mate while she's alone and vulnerable isn't helping anyone."

The word 'interrogating' hangs in the air like an accusation. Elena's smile finally disappears entirely, replaced by something much more honest. Much more dangerous.

"I see," she says softly. "I think there's been a misunderstanding."

But as I look at her—really look at her—pieces start falling into place. The way she's been watching us. The too-specific questions. The fact that her scent has seemed slightly off since we arrived, like Snow said.

Leo, I whisper through our bond. I don't think this is Elena.

His arms tighten around me protectively. What do you mean?

I think this is her sister. I think this is Morgana.

The realization hits us both at the same time, and in the kitchen doorway, the woman wearing Elena's face begins to laugh.