Chapter 26 The Forest Has Eyes
Bram
Lyra fits in my arms like she’s always belonged there. The early light slips in through the broken shutters, brushing across her face and making her look ethereal. She’s my mate. The words stir something deep in me, an instinct I’d always thought I could keep under control. Now, it’s like my whole body is wired to her.
She turns over, murmuring in her sleep, and for a moment I think she’ll wake. Instead, she nestles closer, tucking her cold toes against my shin. I smile to myself. The abandoned house creaks and groans around us, the old boards settling. Somewhere outside, a bird calls, but nothing could pull me from this moment, with the knowledge of what we are to each other now.
We linger longer than we should, wrapped in that fragile morning bubble, but eventually hunger and reality force us up. Lyra stretches, the hem of her shirt riding up just enough to test my control all over again. She catches my look and smirks. “You’re staring.”
“Not my fault,” I say, pulling my shirt on. “You’re hard to look away from.”
She rolls her eyes, but I see the faint blush that colors her cheeks.
We finish getting dressed and head out into the crisp air. The ruins of the old Song Pack village lie scattered before us, stone foundations swallowed by moss, collapsed roofs leaning drunkenly against each other, weeds pushing up between cracked paving stones. Lyra picks her way ahead.
“Why is this place even creepier in the daytime?” she murmurs, eyes sweeping the empty street. “It’s like a place frozen in time. Toys, tools… just left where they fell when it was time to run–or die.” She shivers.
“Yeah,” I say, my voice low. “It’s actually really sad.”
As we explore, the hairs on the back of my neck keep rising. Every so often, I catch the faintest scent of what I can only imagine to be rogues. Twice, I’m sure I see movement at the edge of my vision, but when I turn, there’s nothing.
Lyra glances up at me. “Bram, don’t tell me you think someone’s here.”
I keep my voice low. “I know someone’s here.”
She laughs, shaking her head. “You’re imagining things. This place is a ghost town.”
As I watch her navigate the ruins, I wonder if she realizes Song Pack was known for their silver coats, just like hers. Her mother had one, too. That means she carries Song Pack blood, whether she knows it or not.
The day wears on, and the feeling of being watched never leaves me. Once, I catch a sharp, musky scent, but it’s gone before I can pin it down. Another time, I swear I see movement in the trees, just beyond the farthest house. My wolf surges, muscles tightening, vision sharpening. Lyra notices and steps closer, her hand brushing mine.
“You’re making me nervous,” she says.
“Good. You should be. There is definitely someone watching us. Be ready to shift at any second.”
By late afternoon, the light starts to fade, gold sliding toward deep blue. No one’s jumped us, and the forest stays quiet, but my instincts haven’t eased an inch.
We find some useful things scattered in a few of the houses. Worn clothes that might fit, a bottle of whiskey half-buried in the dirt, and a handful of tools that could come in handy later. It isn’t much, but every bit helps.
Back at the abandoned house we stayed in last night, we slip inside, the old hinges whining as the door swings shut behind us. Lyra drops her bag on the table, and I move toward the fireplace to stir the embers we left that morning. That’s when I hear just the faintest scuff of a boot against wood.
I freeze. Lyra catches my expression, her smile vanishing. She moves to my side, her eyes narrowing.
We both listen. There it is again. Slow, deliberate footsteps coming from the back room.
Lyra’s hand finds mine. “Not imagining it now, are you?” she whispers.
My wolf growls, begging to shift, but I hold steady. “Stay behind me.”
We move toward the noise, every muscle coiled, the boards under our feet groaning in protest. The last slant of daylight barely touches the room as I push the door open, ready for claws, for teeth, for whatever’s been shadowing us all day.
And then the figure steps into the light.
“Bram.” Jorin’s voice is low, almost a growl. “We need to talk. Privately.”
Lyra frowns, crossing her arms. “Wait, why can’t I be in on it?”
I shake my head apologetically. “Just let us step outside. We’ll be right back.”
Reluctantly, Lyra leans against the crumbling doorway, watching as Jorin and I step into the darkness.
Jorin wastes no time. “Listen, Bram. You need to leave Lyra with me. She’s safer with me. You need to go back home. You’re just stirring up trouble by being here, and it’s only going to put her in danger.”
I square my shoulders. “Respectfully, Jorin, I’m not doing anything or making any moves based on your wishes or demands.”
His jaw tightens. “Then I’ll fight you for her.”
I laugh softly, the tension thick between us. “Jorin, Lyra isn’t a prize to be won. She’s a woman with her own thoughts and feelings. If anything, we’d just ask her where she wants to go, but honestly, we both know she does exactly what she wants. And right now, you can see where that is.”
Jorin’s glare cuts sharper. “You think she’s going to choose you? After everything?”
I step closer, voice low and steady. “We are fated mates.”
His gaze sharpens. He’s momentarily caught off guard by my words.
Lyra sticks her head out from the doorway. Her arms are crossed, but her eyes are bright with amusement. “You guys do know I’m a wolf, right? I can hear everything.”
I glance at Jorin, who scowls, then back at Lyra, who’s grinning.
Lyra continues, “And yeah, I’m Bram’s mate. I’m not going back with you, Jorin, but if you want, you could stay here with us.”
Jorin’s scowl deepens, but after a long moment, he nods. “Fine. I’m not staying, but I’ll stick around for dinner. Someone has to keep an eye on you two, and I’m already here.”
Lyra raises an eyebrow but shrugs. “Suit yourself. Just don’t eat all the food.”
I let out a short laugh, the tension easing just a bit. We gather around the rough wooden table. The meal is simple–dried meat, handfuls of wild berries, and some hearty mushrooms we found nearby. Not much, but enough for now.
Jorin leans back, rubbing his chin. “Judging from the way the woods looked this morning, the smell of burnt fur, the scattered bones, we hit Alpha Kaelen’s men pretty hard.”
Lyra smiles, her eyes bright with satisfaction. “Good. They deserve it.”
I nod quietly, but beneath that, a knot of unease coils in my stomach. Taking down an Alpha isn’t a simple victory. It stirs power shifts, vendettas, and blood debts.
“I want Kaelen gone as much as you do,” I say slowly, “but this... it’s not just about packs and power. There’s more at play, and if we’re not careful, things could spiral out of control.”
Jorin’s gaze sharpens. “Then we better be ready.”
“We’ll be ready,” I say. “But I have a question for you, and you must be honest. Were you following us today?”
Jorin looks surprised. “No, I got to this house just before you did. Why? Were you being followed?”
“Bram has been skittish all day. I didn’t notice anything,” Lyra says, squeezing my hand.
“I’m not sure. I think someone was watching us, but maybe it was nothing,” I reply.
After the meal, Jorin pushes back from the table, the firelight casting sharp shadows across his face. He stands, brushing off his hands. “I’ll be going,” he says gruffly, heading toward the door. I think I should feel relief watching him go, but instead, the knot in my gut tightens.
At first, I figured it was only Jorin keeping tabs on us today, but even after he left, that same feeling lingers, and it’s not him. Someone else is out there, watching, waiting, and I’ll do whatever it takes to keep Lyra safe.