Chapter 1

Abby watched the video feed from the cell, her breakfast sitting like a heavy rock in her stomach. The image was grainy, but she could make out the thin mattress shoved into the corner and the man stretched across it. She hadn’t seen him in person yet, but even through the static she could tell his hair was long, dark strands falling over his face. His arms hung limp at his sides. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, only a tattered pair of shorts, his skin pale under the harsh overhead light. “Has he moved?” Lucas asked as he walked into the room behind her. “No,” she said, glancing over her shoulder. Lucas was tall, his chestnut-brown hair brushed neatly back from his face and his beard trimmed close. He wore a blue button-up shirt that pulled tight across his broad chest. He was rolling up the cuffs, revealing the wide leather bracelets he always wore. He leaned over her shoulder to look at the screen. “The guards said he woke up last night but refused to eat,” Lucas muttered, his eyes fixed on the monitor. He was close enough that she caught the faint scent of mint on his breath. “Are you going to interrogate him today?” Abby leaned back in her chair as Lucas straightened and stepped away. “If he wakes up again, I will.” Lucas folded his arms, studying her for a moment. “Did you finish reading the reports about the attacks like I asked?” She nodded, her throat tightening. Lucas always made her nervous. He was the lead investigator for the Werewolf Council, and his reputation preceded him. He had never left a case unsolved. His relentless drive had made him the youngest investigator ever promoted to his position. When he’d chosen Abby as his trainee, she’d been thrilled. It wasn’t just a foot in the door. It was a chance to learn from the best. But the past year hadn’t gone the way she’d imagined. Lucas was cold and blunt. He had zero tolerance for mistakes and even less concern for her feelings when he pointed them out. Rumors floated through the department that he’d only chosen her because of who her father was. Abby refused to let that define her. She was determined to prove she deserved the position, to be as good an investigator as Lucas himself. “I went through them twice last night,” she said, rolling her bottom lip between her teeth as she watched him. “What are your thoughts?” He turned back to the monitor. “Well, I was thinking that…” She hesitated, running her tongue along her teeth as the man on the screen shifted slightly. “I mean, what I think is…” “Goddess, Abby,” Lucas groaned. “Can you just spit it out instead of dancing around it?” Her face burned as she met his annoyed stare. “It seems like the attack was too vicious to have been done by just one wolf. I think there had to be others involved.” He studied her for a moment, then nodded. “I was thinking the same thing. This one,” he said, pointing at the screen, “is probably the weak link. He’ll be the key to finding the rest.” Abby turned back to the monitor. Unease prickled along her skin as she watched the man lie there. Something about him felt wrong, even through the grainy feed. “We’re not interrogating him yet,” Lucas said with a sigh, turning away. “They had to give him wolfsbane to force him to shift out of wolf form.” Abby frowned. “I thought he was unconscious when they found him.” “He was.” “Wolves usually shift to heal,” she said slowly, eyes still on the screen. “Why would he be unconscious and still unshifted?” Lucas shrugged. “It’s odd. Not unheard of, but rare.” He crossed the room to his desk opposite hers and pulled his laptop from the top drawer. After powering it on, he looked back at her. “Did you finish fixing the Half Moon report yesterday?” She nodded. “I did it the way you asked.” “You mean correctly,” he snapped. “You did it correctly, which is what I asked for.” She bit back an eye roll and didn’t respond. Lucas was a first-rate asshole, but he was also the best. Promoted to lead investigator at twenty-eight, something almost unheard of. Even a year later, he was still one of the youngest and still untouchable. The Werewolf Council oversaw most packs across North America, ensuring they followed the laws set by the council elders. The council operated out of the main compound, with a few satellite offices scattered across the country. Daily operations were handled by the commander, who reported directly to the elders twice a month. “I want you to start pulling reports on the two warriors who were killed,” Lucas said, turning back to his computer. “Backgrounds, known associates, anyone we should interview. Also check for any reports of rogue sightings near the compound or surrounding packs.” “Okay,” Abby said. “I can do that.” “I need to review your Half Moon report again before I send it back to the commander. I don’t need it kicked back another time. I’m done dealing with screwups.” She swallowed her irritation and opened her laptop. ** By the time Lucas stood, Abby’s eyes were burning from staring at her screen. “I need coffee,” he muttered, stretching his arms overhead. “Did you find anything useful?” She looked up. “Not much yet. I made some notes.” He nodded. “I just sent your report to the commander, so we can really dig into this now.” He rubbed his eyes. “Grab your notes. Let’s walk to the café.” Abby snapped her notebook shut and closed her laptop. She wasn’t about to argue about coffee, not with a headache forming behind her eyes. She hadn’t slept well. Her wolf, Marli, had paced restlessly in her mind all night. Marli wasn’t usually like that, but something had her unsettled, constantly murmuring that something wasn’t right. Marli growled softly now, and Abby tried to push her presence back. They took the elevator down and stepped outside. The council compound was laid out in two large squares of buildings. The inner square held four main buildings at each corner, surrounding a wide courtyard filled with oak trees, benches, and a large ornate fountain at its center. The two front buildings closest to the entrance were the Guest Center and the Commander’s Headquarters. The Guest Center held meeting rooms and lodging for visiting pack members. The Commander’s Headquarters housed the commander’s office, the warrior advisors, and the Council Chambers where the elders met twice a month. At the back of the square sat the Investigative Center and the Council Hospital. Abby worked in the Investigative Center with the other investigators and trainees, while the prisoner cells were located in its basement. The hospital treated council wolves and specialized in rare conditions. Its lower levels held the forensic labs. Outside the inner square were three long buildings. The eastern and northern sides held the warriors’ barracks, where all trainees and unmated warriors lived. Once a wolf found their mate or reached a high rank, they could move off-site, often to the apartments near the nearby human city. The western side of the compound held the training facility, complete with an outdoor track and sparring rings that stretched across much of the grounds. Beyond the eastern barracks lay a wide stretch of forest owned by the council, used for wolf-form training. They headed toward the Guest Center café. Lucas went to order while Abby claimed a small table near the back. She skimmed her notes, tapping her fingers absently. “Good morning, Anderson.” She looked up and frowned. Rudy Armstrong stood beside the table, a cocky smirk on his face. Rudy was another investigative trainee, assigned to Arnold Lewis. They’d gone through the academy together. Abby had worked herself to exhaustion to earn decent marks. Rudy hadn’t needed to try. He was a powerful sighter, the second son of an alpha, well over six feet tall with light brown hair and sharp blue eyes. He’d taken Abby down in more sparring matches than she cared to count. Smart, strong, and painfully aware of it, Rudy wore his confidence like armor. She-wolves followed him everywhere. The one thing Abby had over him was Lucas choosing her as his trainee. Everyone had assumed Rudy would get the spot. The fallout had been ugly. Rudy had been the first to suggest her father had pulled strings. “I heard you and Watts got the case with the warriors,” he said. “We did,” Abby replied. “Arnie asked the commander for it, but I guess Watts beat him to it.” Rudy shrugged. “Lucas handles most internal council cases,” Abby said. “That comes with being head investigator.” Rudy chuckled. “Yeah, but I heard the elders tossed your report back. Thought maybe you’d be busy fixing mistakes.” Her jaw tightened. “It was a couple minor errors. I fixed them.” “I would’ve done it right the first time,” Rudy said, his grin widening. “But that’s just me.” “Hello, Armstrong.” Lucas stepped around him and set two coffees on the table. His voice was thin. “Can I help you with something?” “Nope,” Rudy said lightly. “Just chatting about your new case.” “We’re actually working,” Lucas replied. “So if you don’t mind.” “Sure thing, Watts.” Rudy nodded at Abby and walked off, still smirking. “I don’t like him,” Lucas muttered as he handed Abby her coffee and sat down. “Thank the Goddess he works with Lewis. I’d lose my mind training someone who thinks his s**t doesn’t stink.” Abby hid her smile behind a sip of coffee. “That’s just Rudy. He’s always been like that.” Lucas shook his head. “At least you own your mistakes. You messed up that report, but you fixed it without whining. Rudy blames everyone else when he screws up. I couldn’t stand that.” Abby blinked. That was the closest thing to a compliment he’d ever given her. “Tell me about your notes,” Lucas said, nodding toward her notebook. “What did you find?”