Chapter 3 Are You Hunting Shadows

Naomi always thought the truth would emerge if you stared at it long enough.

As she made her way through the supply cellar under the Golden Ash Pack's old meeting hall, she wanted to believe that remained true.

She moved without a sound, her steps as light as a feather. The smell of aged dust and dried herbs settled like dust in her lungs. Crates lined the walls, food, bandages, spare linens. But Naomi had come for supplies.

She was hunting for a scent. The same bitter-tasting trace of wolfsbane she'd detected on her jacket.

One member of this pack was guilty. Someone had sent that note. And she was going to find out who.

Her fingertips grazed a pile of folded tunics. She paused. It was faint, but it was present.

She dropped into a crouch and pulled back the cloth. Underneath was an iron leather pouch. Her palms were shaking when she opened it.

Vials. Three of them.

Wolfsbane. Tightly sealed, but unmistakable.

A storm of rage twisted in her gut. This was of the same type that had been used on her. Same powdered form. Same shade.

She wasn't crazy. Someone here was collaborating with her enemies. Perhaps giving them intel or worse, following direct orders.

She zipped up the pouch and shoved it in her coat.

Behind her, a voice spoke.

"You shouldn't be down here."

Naomi spun.

Lena. One of the pack's medics. Barely eighteen. Always watching and soft-spoken.

Naomi maintained her same face. "I was searching for additional blankets."

Lena looked down at the pouch she was holding.

"That does not appear to be a blanket."

Neither of them moved for a heartbeat.

Naomi straightened. "What's in this?"

Lena's jaw clenched. "Something that was never supposed to exist."

Naomi moved closer, her voice low. "You know who it belongs to?"

Lena hesitated. Her hands fingering at her sides. "No. But I saw someone drop it here though. A week ago."

"Who?"

The girl shook her head. "I'm not sure. They were fast. Covered in a cloak. I thought they were one of us.

Naomi studied her carefully. She was indeed telling the truth or part of it.

"If you encounter them again, inform me," Naomi said.

"Why?" Lena asked. "You're just a rogue."

Naomi paused.

"No," she said, moving closer. "I'm more than that." And if you want to survive what's coming, you'll start seeing me like I am."

Lena flinched but nodded. "Okay."

Naomi walked off without another word.

That evening, she sat outside the packhouse under the stars, fingers squeezed on the leather pouch. Her wolf was restless and tense.

She was getting closer.

Footsteps drew near, slow and ponderous. She didn't need to look up.

Alex.

"You are not subtle," he said, plopping down on the bench next to her.

"You were following me," she said flatly.

He shrugged. "This is my pack."

Naomi flung the pouch into his lap.

He opened it. His eyes narrowed.

"It was hidden underneath uniforms," she said. "Someone here's in with whoever tried to kill me."

Alex didn't speak. He glowered at the vials, flexing his jaw.

"You knew something wasn't right," she added. "When you discovered me that evening-you didn't think I was simply some rogue."

"I didn't," he admitted. "Your eyes gave you away."

Naomi turned her full attention to him. "Why did you keep me alive?"

Alex looked at her then the way he did when he was seeing someone who wasn't a girl in borrowed clothes.

"I've lost a lot of people," he said softly. My brother died because I trusted the wrong wolf. I was not going to repeat my same foolish mistake again.

"So you made sure to keep your enemies close."

"And watched."

She nodded slowly. "What do you see now?"

Alex's gaze didn't waver. "A ghost who isn't quite ready to sleep."

The words stung more than she had anticipated.

"I don't know for how long I can pretend," she said in a whisper. "I don't even know who I am in this body."

"You're what you choose to be," he said.

She wanted to believe that. But Damian lingered on her mind. The ache of betrayal. The sting of his coldness. The love that never struggled.

She wasn't ready to let go.

"I've got to return," she said suddenly.

Alex tensed. "To Crystal Blue?"

She nodded. "Not yet. But soon. I need to see what's changed. If Violent took my place. If Damian"

"Damian doesn't deserve you," Alex interrupted, his tone sharp. "Whatever you had-it's gone."

Naomi's eyes met his.

"You don't get to tell me how much I lost," she said quietly. "You weren't around when I needed saving."

The quiet stretched out through the space between them.

Then Alex stood. "Fine. Just don't wait too long. Ghosts fade, Naomi. And revenge is a poor thing to live for."

And then he turned and walked away, leaving her behind with the stars and the burden of the truth.

Straddling the border of the Crystal Blue Pack, Naomi's heart stammered in her chest. The forest kisses familiar here wrapped like an old, forgotten song, one that had once brought her comfort, now feeling unearthly instead. She hadn't meant to return so quickly. Not after everything. But something inside her pushed it. A pull. A need for closure.

You are no longer a rogue, Naomi. The script Alex had read haunted her as she gazed over the land she had once called home.

This was where she lived. Loved. Lost.

But now, it is all different.

Her fingers clenched the small pouch stashed inside her coat. The wolfsbane vials. They were a clue. But they weren't all the reasons she'd come.

She had come for Damian.

To meet his gaze and see the person who'd once been her everything. The man who had picked his pack over her. The man who had let her die.

She growled low in her chest as she scented the air. It wasn't just that the pack hung around - it was him. Damian.

She didn't wait. With that, Naomi stepped forward, crossing the threshold into Crystal Blue Pack territory. Her excitement and anxiety roiled within her. It had been six days since she died, and the sensation of actually being home, really being home again, came over her.

Damian had his back against the trees, eyes turned towards the horizon as he scanned for any signs of life. It was late, but for the past several nights sleep had eluded him. Every inch of the packhouse was void of Naomi, every creak and whisper in the woods inescapably eerie.

He had been exploring for answers most of the day. His heart told him to head for the border, but his head said not to. Naomi was gone. She had to be.

But that odd feeling scratching at him didn't relinquish its grip.

A scent hit him, sharp and recognizable Naomi.

It left him breathless.

He turned, and his eyes narrowed when he saw her standing there, a vision. Moonlight gleamed off her figure, familiar but different. Her eyes, once soft, now had a sharpness he hadn't expected. She was also wearing someone else's coat. The clothes were wrong, but the person was inarguable.

"Naomi..." He was barely whispering, his feet moving ahead of his brain.

She didn't move. Didn't speak. Just watched him.

The air crackled between them, thick and painful.

"Damian," Naomi said, her voice firm, chilling. "You left me to die."

Damian's heart hammered in his chest, the force of her words knocking the wind out of him harder than any blow. "I didn't, Naomi, I didn't."

"Save me?" Her eyes glossed with unshed tears, she finished for him. "I was your Luna. I trusted you. And you let me die."

He opened his mouth, but words did not emerge. And he hadn't been able to save her. And now, he has no idea why.

"Why? " she asked again, her voice firm this time. "Why wasn't I enough for you? For the pack?"

Damian's chest tightened. He took a step toward her, but Naomi raised a hand and stopped him. "Don't. Don't touch me."

A harsh laugh escaped the lips. "I'm not that weak woman anymore." I'm not the Luna you left behind."

Those words ripped him apart, deeper than any wound he'd ever known. His wolf howled within him, but Damian bit it back, concentrating solely on Naomi.

"I didn't leave you behind, Naomi," he said, his voice hoarse. I thought you were dead. I thought.

"You thought?" Naomi interjected, glaring in turn. "You didn't try."

Damian stepped closer to her, the distance between them intolerable. "You didn't see the effect on me. You never observed how tough it was."

The sharpness of Naomi's stare wavered for an instant, then settled again. She shook her head. "You weren't there for me when I needed you the most.

He walked away; guilt was in the air. "I'm sorry." I failed you."

"Sorry?" she whispered bitterly. "That is all you are going to say to yourself?"

The silence hung between them, and for a moment, Damian wasn't sure what to do. This was Naomi, and it wasn't. She had died, and now there she was, standing before him, tough and defiant, though wounded.

"I don't know what to say," Damian said. "I thought I'd lost you." I thought I'd lost it all.

Naomi's breath hitched. It was the first time she was able to feel the torrent of emotions she'd been staving off. Gritting her teeth, her hand gripped the wolfsbane vials concealed inside her coat.

"You didn't lose everything, Damian. You lost me."

Between them lay a silence heavy with years of unsaid things, unshed tears. And finally, Naomi turned her back on him.

"I didn't return to you," she said softly, avoiding his eyes. I came back for the truth. "The pack's betrayal."

Damian's heart squeezed in his chest. "You're not a ghost. You shouldn't be here."

"I'm not a ghost," Damian. I'm alive. And I'm going to make sure the pack gets what's coming to it."

Her words stunned him like a blow. She was alive. And everything he thought he knew about his future had just been blown to pieces.

"You're going to expose the traitors," Damian said, moving toward her. "Let me help you."

The eyes of Naomi hardened as she looked at him. "I don't need your help. Not anymore."

She turned and began to walk into the woods, leaving Damian standing there, empty and broken.