Rhyder's POV.
We met Jackson half way between our home and my parents'.
It was still early, the sun had only just begun to rise up behind the, now snow-covered, mountain peaks. The air had an icy bite to it and the forest was quiet.
Grace and I were both still exhausted - we spent most of the night tossing and turning. We were both anxious to see Tate and to speak to my father about the people in the photograph that Grace had found in Meghan's room.
Jackson still looked a little worse for wear: the wound on the back of his skull had closed, but was still swollen and had an ugly blue-purple tinge to it. His face was pale and his eyes had a sunken look about them.
"Anything?"
My voice was hoarse, heavy, and tired.
Jackson lowered his gaze to his feet, shaking his head.
"No, Alpha. Un
