Chapter 13: Sierra's Investigation

Calla's POV

I sat curled up on the leather couch, wearing one of his old college hoodies that hung past my fingertips and a pair of leggings Sierra had left behind.

My hair was still damp from the shower I'd taken after training this morning. The afternoon sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Darius's penthouse, painting everything gold.

It has been a different training, definitely less intense, and this time, no almost-kisses.

Darius had kept his distance today, and I was grateful. Last night in the basement had left me confused, my lips still tingling from his kiss, my chest still aching from the mate bond's interference. I needed space to think.

The clock on the wall read 2:47 PM. Sierra had texted an hour ago saying she needed to talk. That she'd found something important.

I picked at the threads on the hoodie sleeve and tried not to think about how it smelled like Darius. Pine and something darker. Something that made my stomach flip.

The elevator dinged. I jumped, nearly spilling the tea I'd forgotten I was holding.

Sierra stepped out wearing a burgundy blazer over a white silk blouse, black jeans that probably cost more than my entire wardrobe, and heels that clicked against the hardwood floor. Her hair was pulled back in a sleek ponytail, and she carried a leather messenger bag that looked heavy.

She looked like she'd just come from somewhere important. Somewhere official.

"Hey," I said, setting my tea down. "You look fancy."

"I was at the library." She dropped her bag on the coffee table with a thud. "The old one. Downtown. The one that keeps pack records."

My stomach tightened. "Why?"

"Because I needed answers." She sat down across from me, her expression serious. "About your wolf."

"Sierra—"

"Don't." She held up a hand. "Just listen, okay? I've been doing research. About black and silver wolves. About the prophecy."

I pulled my knees to my chest. "What did you find?"

She opened her bag and pulled out a stack of papers. Old papers, yellowed at the edges, covered in cramped handwriting. She spread them across the table like evidence at a crime scene.

"The last black and silver wolf appeared two hundred years ago," she said quietly. "Her name was Morgana."

"Okay." I leaned forward. "What happened to her?"

"She destroyed three packs before they killed her." Sierra looked up at me, her eyes dark. "Calla, she wasn't evil. She didn't start out wanting to hurt people. But her power was too much. She couldn't control it, and when she lost control, hundreds of wolves died."

My mouth went dry. "I'm not like that."

"I know." Sierra grabbed my hand. "But that's what they'll think if they find out. That's what the prophecy says. A black and silver wolf will either unite the packs or destroy them. There's no middle ground."

"So what are you saying?" I pulled my hand back. "That I'm a ticking time bomb?"

"No." She shook her head quickly. "I'm saying we need to be careful. More careful than we've been."

"I've been hiding," I said. "I haven't shifted since that night. I'm doing everything right."

"For now." Sierra tapped the papers. "But what happens during the full moon? What happens if you lose control during a pack gathering? What happens if Lucas finds out and tells everyone?"

"He won't."

"You don't know that." Her voice cracked. "Calla, I'm scared. I'm scared someone's going to find out before we figure out what to do. I'm scared they'll kill you like they killed Morgana."

I stared at her. Sierra never admitted to being scared. She was always the confident one, the one who had everything figured out.

"I won't let that happen," I said.

"You can't control it." She stood up and started pacing. "That's the problem. According to these records, Morgana didn't mean to hurt anyone. She was trying to help. But her power was too strong, and when she shifted, it was like a bomb going off. Wolves died just being near her."

"I killed one rogue," I said. "One. I didn't hurt anyone else."

"Yet." Sierra stopped pacing and looked at me. "I'm not trying to scare you. I'm trying to protect you. But I don't know how much longer we can keep this secret."

I stood up too, needing to move. "So what do you want me to do? Turn myself in? Let them kill me before I have a chance to prove I'm not a monster?"

"Of course not." She came closer. "I want you to be safe. I want my best friend to survive this."

"Then help me figure it out," I said. "Help me control it."

"That's what Darius is doing."

"Is it?" Sierra's expression shifted. "Or is he using you to get back at Lucas?"

"He told me about Daniel," I said quietly. "About what Lucas did."

Sierra went still. "He told you?"

"Yeah." I wrapped my arms around myself. "And I get it. I get why he hates Lucas. But this thing between us, it's not just about revenge anymore."

"Isn't it?" She picked up one of the papers and handed it to me. "Look at this. Really look at it."

I took the paper. It was a drawing, rough and faded, but clear enough. A black and silver wolf standing over a pile of bodies. The caption underneath read…the Beast of Shadow Creek. 1824.

"That's what they called her," Sierra said softly. "The Beast. Not Morgana, not a wolf. A beast."

My hands shook. "I'm not her."

"I know." Sierra took the paper back. "But they won't care. To them, you're the same. Another black and silver wolf. Another threat."

"Then what am I supposed to do?" My voice rose. "Hide forever? Never shift again? Pretend I'm not a wolf at all?"

"I don't know." She sat back down, suddenly looking exhausted. "I've been trying to figure it out for days. But every answer I find just leads to more questions."

I sat next to her. "You've been researching this whole time?"

"Since the night you shifted." She leaned her head on my shoulder. "I couldn't sleep. Kept thinking about what would happen if someone found out. If they came for you."

"Sierra—"

"I can't lose you, Calla." Her voice was small. "You're my best friend. The only person who's never cared about my family's money or influence. You just...saw me. And now I'm terrified I'm going to lose you either way."

"Either way?"

"If the pack finds out, they'll kill you." She lifted her head. "But if they don't, if you stay with Darius and this fake engagement becomes real, then I lose you to him. My brother gets you, and I'm left with nothing."

"That's not true," I said.

"Isn't it?" She wiped her eyes. "You're already choosing him. I see how you look at each other. How you disappeared into the basement last night and didn't come up for hours."

Heat rushed to my face. "We were training."

"Sure you were." She gave me a watery smile. "I'm not stupid, Calla. I know what's happening. And part of me is happy for you. But the other part is terrified."

"Of what?"

"Of losing both of you." She grabbed my hand again. "Darius is all I have. Our parents are always busy with pack politics. He raised me more than they did. And if something happens to him because he's protecting you, I don't know what I'll do."

"Nothing's going to happen to him," I said.

"You don't know that." She squeezed my hand. "Lucas is unpredictable. And if he finds out about your wolf, he'll use it against both of you. He'll tell the pack elders. He'll start a war. And people will die."

I didn't have an answer for that. Because she was right. Lucas would absolutely use my wolf against me if he found out. And Darius would stand between us, would fight for me, and people would get hurt.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

"For what?"

"For dragging you into this. For being complicated. For having a wolf that's going to get everyone killed."

"Stop." Sierra pulled me into a hug. "None of this is your fault. You didn't ask to be a black and silver wolf. You didn't ask for any of this."

Finally, Sierra pulled back. "We need a plan."

"What kind of plan?"

She started gathering the papers. "We can't keep hiding forever. Eventually, someone's going to notice. So we need to figure out how to control your wolf before that happens."

"Darius is training me."

"Then train harder." She looked at me. "Because I'm not losing you, Calla, not to the pack, and definitely not to Lucas. Do you understand?"

I nodded, doing my best not to smile. "Understood."

"Good." She stood up and grabbed her bag. "Now come on. We're going shopping."

I blinked. "Shopping?"

"If you're going to be Darius's fake fiancée, you need to look the part." She pulled me to my feet. "Besides, retail therapy helps with existential dread."

I laughed despite everything. "Does it?"

"Trust me." She looped her arm through mine. "Nothing says 'I'm not a prophesied wolf of destruction' like a really good pair of shoes.”