Wolf Shifter Diaries: Loss Hunted (Sweet Paranormal Wolf & Fae Fantasy Romance Series Book 3)

by E Hall

  “I knew Grandma wouldn’t close. Yesterday was the first time in over forty years. My grandmother said she was opening today no matter what. Benjamin, my Grandpa, would’ve wanted it that way.”

  “Don’t worry, Ethan will make sure everything is okay,” I assure her.

  Ethan follows us in the truck with the other wolves ready as backup if needed. He covertly hang out at the bakery today—occupying one of the bistro tables “writing” Concordia’s next great novel. I don’t think the fae will bother what remains of Pepper’s family, but in case they catch wind, or scent, of her dragon, it’s better to be safe than sorry.

  I wait in the Jeep while Kenna and Pepper go inside the bakery. It’s tragic about the owner, Pepper’s grandfather. All the more reason to end this as soon as possible. We have to break the curse and bring harmony to magicals. To do that, we need the scepter.

  The girls come back with a bag full of doughnuts and Pepper carries a box of pastries.

  I lift my eyebrow when they get in.

  “What?” Kenna asks. “They’re for later.”

  “You and your sweet tooth.”

  She gently swats me on the shoulder as I pull back onto the road. “Hey, you only benefit.”

  “I prefer steak, ribs, burgers...”

  “No, I mean I get cranky when I’m hungry.”

  I chuckle.

  During the drive to Cardington, the rising sun dips behind a bank of clouds, dying the fields in amber and scarlet. Three shafts of light break through and beam from the vault of the sky. It’s beautiful and ominous, reminding me of an old mariner’s saying about a red sun in the morning, cautioning sailors to take warning.

  We chat about everything we know so far. Mostly we speculate, but it’s like if we keep talking about the details, the missing parts will become clear.

  As I pass through the gate at Lonsdale, we have no better idea than when we started.

  Pepper, paler than usual, eyes the house warily.

  “As I said, it’s haunted,” Kenna says.

  “That’s not very reassuring.” I pocket the keys to the Jeep. Like the last time I was here, summon my wolf close, preparing to encounter Clove, goblins, or even the fae king.

  “Alister is mostly a friendly,” Kenna goes on, filling Pepper in on how he’s a stuck ghost.

  “You’re not kidding are you.” Pepper’s pale, freckled skin blanches.

  Kenna smiles and shakes her head. “Believe me, I was shocked too.”

  We go straight to the secret room. Pepper spins in a slow circle, awed. “I’ve seen this place on the map of memories.”

  “Whatever else she says is lost to me as I go about opening the box that matches the one Lila had. Sure enough, inside, I find a puzzle cube.

  Pepper pauses, marveling and opens it in a few swift turns. “Glad to know my skills come in handy.” She passes it to me.

  Like before, there’s another, smaller box. I lift the lid. “It’s empty.”

  Kenna snaps her fingers. “The Vampire Jewel must’ve been inside.” She pulls it from her pocket, showing Pepper.

  Her eyes, already wide, get wider. “Wow. That just leaves one more. I love sparkly things.”

  Typical dragon.

  Kenna’s lips quirk and she lifts and lowers her eyebrows. I nod, indicating she can tell Pepper the news.

  “Did I tell you that Corbin proposed to me?” She flashes her ring.

  Pepper bounces on her toes. “Wow. Sorry, I’ll stop saying that soon. Congratulations.”

  Kenna beams with pride and tips her lips in a smile that sends a jolt through me.

  I’ve never been one for romance or grand gestures, definitely not the kind of guy to ply a girl with jewelry, but my chest puffs up a little at seeing how happy the ring makes Kenna. Apart from the pack, I make it my life’s duty to bring that smile to her lips as often as possible.

  Pepper inspects it, marveling at the diamond. “It’s beautiful.” She bites the inside of her cheek and peers up at Kenna. “I have something important to tell you too.” Her voice is grave.

  I don’t know if I can deal with more unpleasant news. Like a drifting balloon, the high of the moment threatens to deflate.

  “You’re seeking the scepter, and I’ve seen it. The true scepter along with the jewels brings balance, harmony, peace. But it can also be destructive, damaging.”

  This is good news. “When did you see it? Who had it?” I ask rapid fire.

  “The dragon lords atop the Montmartres Mountains.” She bites her lip as if measuring how I receive this information.

  “Learning my father is a ghost ruined me for shock value. Go on,” Kenna says.

  “Along with the dragons’ vast knowledge of the past and wisdom of the present and future, they were the guardians of the scepter’s magic. The story about the base nature of the three primary magicals, wolves, vamps, and fae has some truth. They were warriors, there to defend the dragons’ knowledge and the scepter that kept the magical and human worlds working in harmony. However, over time, each magical race wanted to possess the scepter and wield its power. Most recently the fae king.”

  “Do you know how it went from being on the mountain to going missing and why Melchior had a fake scepter?” Kenna asks.

  Pepper closes her eyes as though walking through the map of memories. “There was an attack. The fae king had gotten involved in grim magic. He tried to steal the scepter and in doing so slayed almost all the dragons.” A single tear trails down Pepper’s cheek.

  Kenna takes her hand.

  “During the battle, the dragons scattered the stones, hiding them. Melchior won the scepter, but as soon as he did so, the other magicals learned of his plans. There was more fighting. The scepter went back and forth. In the end, Melchior won the fight, but he did not walk away with the scepter. No one knows where it went.”

  I rock back on my heels as realization dawns. “But he wanted it to seem like he won so he fabricated the scepter he carried to make it look like he was all-powerful.”

  Pepper nods. “And because it was iron-tipped, he could control the fae. With the help of grim magic, he cursed them, making up the story of Lila’s betrayal and the Initiation.”

  “So the true scepter brings life at best. Death at worst. The fake one controls the fae.”

  Pepper nods.

  “So we need to find the Wolf Jewel and the scepter.”

  “And the remaining dragons,” Pepper adds.

  “I knew you’d help us.” Kenna squeezes Pepper into a side hug. “We’ll figure this out.”

  Bolstered by Kenna’s confidence, Pepper and I scour the room, looking for clues, insights, anything. Meanwhile, my mate tries to find Alister.

  “He must be mad at me,” Kenna says when she returns ghostless. She leafs through the dry and yellow pages of a book on the table. Several sheets fall out and she smooths them back in. “Perhaps these books will point us toward an answer, like clues, a kind of breadcrumb trail.”

  My shoulders cave, suddenly hopeless at the enormity of this endeavor. I was so sure we had the scepter within our sights. I didn’t think finding Magical’s Most Wanted would bring on a new host of problems—namely, that I couldn’t bear if anything happened to her. I push back the thought and examine a sextant.

  Kenna leans against me, immersed in the book in her hands. “These are old diaries belonging to magicals throughout history. Forbidden love wasn’t anything new. I wonder if it was Melchior who made that up. Who started this whole thing, declaring that Lila and then Isa and Alden couldn’t be together.”

  Their love stories so closely mirror our own, but they didn’t get their happily ever after. We’re left with this mess to untangle, and what if we don’t? Then what?

  My mind can’t leap to what could happen. The end of the world as we know it?

  I cast the thought aside as another question replaces it. What if we left? The question tumbles through me, but before I dare ask, I know I could never run away. I’m loyal
to the pack, end of story.

  Gripping the sextant, I wonder what sailors of old saw when they looked through it: leagues and leagues of ocean to explore, fish to catch, home to return to, a mermaid sunning herself… I lift it to my eye, but a smudge mars the lens. I wipe it on the bottom of my shirt and try again, but the dim light in my room only reveals a blur. I set it aside before getting to my feet and retrieving the puzzle cubes and the two Triad Jewels we have.

  “What do you think this symbol means?” I ask, pointing to the top of the vampire cube.

  Pepper closes her eyes again. Her lids flutter like she’s flipping through the pages of a book. “In the dragon languages of symbols and characters, it means love.”

  Kenna looks up from the book and meets my eyes. “Love,” she repeats. Her smile lingers even as she returns to the book.

  I want to tell her I love her, that I’d trade anything and everything, just for the assurance that we will beat this. Instead, I fear we’ll end up like Lila and her love, Isa and Alden, or Kenna’s parents. The mature and logical thing to do would be to voice my concerns. I don’t dare. The sentences, cosseted in my mind are harmless, once spoken the words have the power to test, if not undo us, and I’m not willing to take that risk yet.

  “I don’t think of love when I think of vampires, but—” Kenna says absently.

  “Love bites,” Pepper says. “Vampires weren’t always bloodthirsty. Without the power of the scepter, they thirst, but in history, the bites indicated the connection they had with their true loves, their mates. They’d mark each other with a bite. The blood would combine, uniting them. It’s hard for us to understand because you know, biting someone is weird, but remember, that was a long, long time ago.”

  Kenna holds the ruby between her finger, studying it.

  I want to kiss her cheek. Her ear. Her lips. I want to kiss every inch of her pearly skin. This is what loves feels like, wanting to transmit this warm, glowing feeling inside me directly to her—every part of her, inside and out.

  “I love you, Kenna,” I whisper.

  She meets my eyes and then brings her lips to mine in a soft kiss as if to say I love you too.

  But the heavy dread in my stomach makes me think we’re counting down to it being our last.

  Chapter 15

  Kenna

  This secret room has become something of a sanctuary. Although we don’t know what to do or how to stop Melchior from taking more lives, the room floats with potential.

  My father led me here. There has to be something that will help us. I gaze at the stained glass windows on the far wall. Every corner and crevice of the house speaks loudly of Greyson—his determination, fascination with history, and commitment to the magical world.

  Too bad they named him a criminal. I will make this right for all of us and him.

  The energy in here is different: older, liquid, and all hope. When I’m in this room, I feel as though the past wins against the future.

  I’ve never been one for researching, but if we’re going to have victory over Melchior, whose currency is cunning, I need to have a better understanding of this world that was hidden from me for most of my life.

  For what’s likely the thirtieth time in as many minutes, I scan the room. The maps covering the walls don’t point me toward answers. The antiques and collectibles would probably do well in a museum, though I’d have to consult Clove since apparently, the contents are his. I don’t know how things work in Concordia, but I’m not inclined for him to have anything because it’s his fault our father is gone.

  And that’s the worst part, the crippling, heart hurting part. I didn’t get to say goodbye. There was no last hug with the assurance that things would turn out okay. I got nothing but the instruction to break the curse. “How, Dad?” I whisper.

  Pepper glances up from a book. I’m not sure if she heard, but she must be enduring her grief, having lost her grandfather.

  I press my hand to my chest where Melchior stabbed me, killing the vamp within. My father was also stabbed. Since he was dual magical, did he lose the fae or wolf within like Lila suggested? Had he already?

  I spin the water-filled globe. Suddenly dizzy, I drop into a leather chair. I’d rather that than endure this feeling of emptiness. I didn’t even have the chance to ask my dad how any of this works or what it is. Where did he collect this stuff? Everything must have a story. These aren’t just random objects. They’re treasures.

  The world rights itself only when the globe stills. I crouch in front of it, studying the ocean and landmasses. I move around it in a circle, carefully not to spin it again. On the globes at school and the library, the continents are the prominent feature and divided into countries. But on this globe, it simply represents the land in gradients of red, gold, yellow, and greenish-blue. The oceans are dark blue. I swivel around and locate the northern Atlantic where we are. A dashed purple line flecked with gold circles an expanse of a small island—Concordia. If only X marked the spot, and I had a treasure map.

  Pepper drops a book, startling me. It releases a puff of dust. I wander over as she traces her finger along its spine. The curved letters, of what I assume is an ancient or dead language, reminds me of flags blowing in the wind. I part the crisp pages to see illustrations of dragons, each of them dangerously beautiful. The rounded lines of the letters of the foreign alphabet label each one. On the facing page is more writing that I can’t understand. Pepper flips through and toward the back of the book, finding a blank page for a last entry. This reminds me of the missing pages from the diary I found here.

  Pepper studies the book of her ancestors as I continue to browse others, but see nothing that points toward information specifically about the scepter—for that matter, there’s hardly anything written in a language that I understand.

  I sigh and sit down at a desk in the corner. I run my fingers along the engraved wood, imagining my father seated here. Numerous cubbies and drawers probably hold old junk, but right now I’m not sure if I’m looking for answers or to learn more about Greyson Slade.

  I open a slim drawer and find yellowed envelopes and a dry inkwell. I pull out a wire-frame pair of glasses and slide them on. My vision blurs. I grope around, trying to get Corbin’s attention.

  He looks up from something he’s studying on a shelf and laughs. Nearly blinded, I lower back down but stumble. When I catch myself, my fingers skid down a slim, raised cutout on the side panel of the desk. I replace the glasses in the cubby and examine the panel.

  The cutout is a pocket door. I slide it over. Hidden behind it are three slim, rectangular drawers. Inside the first, I find a metal letter opener with an abalone handle and case along with some pens and another dry inkwell. The drawer below holds blank sheaves of yellowed paper and below that, there’s nothing more than cobwebs. I push the drawer back in, but it catches. Folded in a crouch, I try to get it to slide into place, but the old wooden guides refuse to budge. I squat, tugging and yanking before it comes out, sending me reeling backward.

  I smooth my finger along the drawer guides and turn it over. It should work smoothly but before I try it again, I peer inside the opening, wondering if something blocks it.

  “Pepper, can I use the flashlight on your phone?” I ask.

  She brings it over and returns to her book about dragons.

  The light illuminates more cobwebs, but something shiny and silky catches in the beam.

  I pull the other three drawers out. From the cavity of the desk, I pull out a scroll wrapped in a red piece of fabric much like the one that held the diary pages.

  I spin around in the chair to face the room and wave the scroll. “Hey, look what I found.”

  Corbin and Pepper pad over and pull up chairs.

  I untie the length of fabric and dangle it between us. “Does this look familiar?”

  I take the diary out of my backpack. Corbin holds one piece of the fabric, and I hold the other. Silver threads through the red velvet.

  “It’s an ex
act match,” Corbin says.

  I give Pepper the fabric and then take out the cloak. “And it belongs to this.”

  Pepper’s eyes widen as she brings the torn piece together with the cloak. “This was Isa’s. When she and Alden were running, a fae tore her cloak.”

  It boggles my mind how she sees these things. Then again, I hear someone singing out of a book with blank pages so go figure.

  Corbin twines the thin strip of fabric around his fingers, lost in thought.

  Recalling what my dad said about the torn pages, I carefully smooth the brittle paper on top of the diary in my lap. The pages are the same size. “I think these are the missing pages.” My pulse doubles. I open the diary and find the section with the torn sheets and slide them in.

  I’m about to lift my gaze to meet Corbin’s when the pages sew themselves back together. The paper flutters. Then the singing begins.

  “Do you guys hear that?” I ask.

  “The wind?” Pepper asks.

  “I knew a storm was coming,” Corbin mutters.

  My stomach swims. I keep the low hum of fae song to myself.

  “Kenna, look,” Corbin says, pointing to the first page in the diary as slanted writing appears. “This was Isa’s diary.”

  Sure enough, printed on the first page are the words Property of Isa Johannsson.

  “Where should I start?”

  “At the beginning,” Corbin says.

  I clear my throat and read a few passages about life on the run and life in love. Then I get to a juicy part. “‘I’ve already snuck to the fae library, researching, trying to find a loophole, a way to avoid Initiation, and becoming Melchior’s consort. However, neither thinking nor doing has brought me any closer to figuring out how to change the way things are for my fellow fae.’ Isa, we relate,” I say.

  “Remember how I told you about the fae?” Pepper asks, recalling one of our chats. “The map of memories is how I knew. This confirms its truth.”

  I take a breath before continuing. “‘Long ago, a human captured a fae named Lila. They say, enchanted by her beauty with dark hair and fair skin, the night sky rippling in her eyes, and the melodic sound of her voice, he took her from her family in the forest against her will. If a fae mates with a human, she loses her voice, rendering her unable to defend or explain herself.’”