Chapter 7 Granddad's Old Cabin

Lyra

I locked my bedroom door then placed my keys, phone and a pair of boots in my bag.

For a moment, I simply stood there, listening.

The manor was quiet. Everyone was asleep, including my dad, whom I'd heard go upstairs a while ago.

Outside, the Blood Moon bathed the snow-covered grounds in an eerie crimson glow.

Astra paced beneath my skin. "Now."

"Hold on."

I dropped my backpack onto the floor and quickly stripped out of my clothes, folding them neatly over the back of my chair. Snatching the pack back up, I opened the balcony door.

Cold air rushed into the room, carrying a few stray snowflakes. I tossed the backpack over the railing, then stepped onto the balcony and pulled the glass door shut behind me. I didn't want the winter chill alerting anyone.

I gripped the ice-cold stone railing and looked down at the snow several feet below.

My heart began pounding.

"Come on, Lyra," Astra pressed. "Let’s go."

I rolled my eyes. “You really need to learn some patience.”

I vaulted over the stone railing and jumped. I landed in the deep snow below with a soft, muffled crunch.

The shift came almost instantly.

I knew what to expect. I'd experienced my first shift during training, after one of the girls in my class deliberately shoved me to the ground before we were given the signal to begin sparring.

I had been so angry that something inside me snapped.

And I shifted.

Pain flashed through my bones as my body changed. My muscles tightened, my senses sharpened, and the world suddenly exploded into a thousand different scents and sounds.

The transformation lasted only seconds.

I was no longer a seventeen-year-old girl.

I was a large white wolf standing beneath the Blood Moon.

My silver-white fur gleamed beneath the crimson light, thick enough to shield me from the biting February cold. It was also pale enough to vanish completely into the snow.

I raised my head and inhaled.

Snow. Pine. Frozen earth. The distant scent of the lake.

Then a vehicle rumbled somewhere in the distance.

Night Patrol.

Astra's ears perked. "To the cabin. Run."

I looked toward the northern edge of Aurelia Moon territory.

The forest waited beneath the Blood Moon.

A low growl rumbled from my chest. I clamped my teeth around my backpack.

Then I was gone.

The cabin was ten miles from Sinclair Manor, deep within the northern reaches of our territory.

Ten miles wasn't much by human standards, but in the middle of winter, with nothing but miles of forest between the manor and the cabin, it felt like another world.

My grandfather had built it decades ago, back when the northern edge of Aurelia Moon was still mostly wilderness. Now it sat among towering pines, not far from the greenhouses and the old logging trails.

Remote. Quiet.

And, according to Astra, exactly where I needed to go.

By the time I reached it, the Blood Moon hung directly overhead, drifting behind a veil of clouds.

I shifted back, quickly dressed in an oversized sweater and yoga pants, pulled on my boots, and picked up my backpack. Then I approached the cabin.

The old wooden structure looked almost black beneath the trees. Snow covered the steep roof, while icicles hung from the gutters. A narrow stone chimney rose above it, a thin ribbon of frost clinging to the bricks.

I unlocked the door with the key hidden inside an old flower pot.

The moment I stepped inside, the familiar scents of old wood, brick and dust surrounded me.

I switched on the lights. The cabin came alive.

It wasn't large, but my grandfather had made it comfortable. A stone fireplace dominated one wall of the living room, surrounded by shelves filled with old books. Two worn leather armchairs faced the hearth, while a long wooden sofa sat beneath the windows.

I looked around. It had been a while since I'd last been here.

Family photographs covered one wall.

Granddad in his younger days. My father as a boy. Grandma hugging a much younger version of Dad.

There were even photographs of Aurelia Moon before the estate had expanded into the massive operation it was today.

I smiled faintly.

Then I noticed something that definitely didn't belong in my grandfather's cabin.

A tripod stood in the middle of the living room. Beside it was a small ring light. And next to the fireplace sat a large duffel bag.

I walked over and unzipped it.

Clothes. A lot of them.

Most were Kira's.

I pulled out a sweater and shook my head. "So you really were here."

Kira hadn't lied about being at the cabin. She had simply neglected to mention that she'd been using it as her personal studio.

I looked around.

One of her designer handbags sat on the sofa. Another was beside the tripod. A pair of expensive shoes had been kicked underneath the coffee table.

I sighed.

Apparently, Kira had decided that an isolated family cabin in the middle of the Northwoods was the perfect location for becoming an influencer.

I could almost hear her explaining it. "The lighting here is amazing."

I rolled my eyes. At least she had been telling the truth when she said she'd been trying to gain followers.

I picked up one of the bags and placed it neatly beside the others. Then something caught my attention.

A shirt was draped over the arm of one of the chairs. It was enormous.

Definitely not Kira's.

I picked it up. An oversized men's T-shirt. Underneath it were a pair of men's jeans.

I stared at them for a moment.

Kira had never been interested in men's clothes.

Maybe she'd borrowed them for one of her videos. Or maybe one of her friends had been here.

I shrugged. It wasn't my business.

I dropped the clothes back onto the chair.

Astra stirred. "Something about that is wrong. Why don't you sniff out who that shirt belongs—"

"Not everything is a conspiracy, Astra," I snapped.

She didn't answer.

I dropped my backpack on the dining table and began searching the bookshelves.

If my grandfather had really kept a copy of The Book of Werewolf History here, surely it would be among the hundreds of books lining the walls.

American History. Agriculture. Pack law. Territorial records. Old novels. Books on military strategy and economics.

Nothing.

I ran my fingers along the spines of another row. Still nothing.

"Astra, are you absolutely sure that book is here?"

"Yes."

I sighed.

Then I remembered something Dad had once told me. Granddad kept the books he considered important away from the main collection.

I turned toward the hallway.

The bedroom at the far end of the cabin had belonged to my grandfather. Dad hadn't allowed anyone to touch it after his death. Eventually, he moved most of my grandfather's belongings into storage, but some things remained here.

Including Granddad's old trunks.

If there was somewhere he would have hidden a book the Council didn't want us reading, that was probably it. And if Astra was right, the book I needed was somewhere among them.

I opened the bedroom door, switched on the light, and stepped inside.

Dust floated through the air.

Three enormous wooden trunks sat beneath the windows. I knelt beside the first. The metal latch creaked when I opened it.

Inside were old clothes, photographs, hunting equipment, and several leather-bound journals. I searched through them. Nothing.

The second trunk contained business records and old maps of Aurelia Moon territory. The third contained boxes of letters.

I was about to give up when I noticed the closet. I opened its doors.

Stowed away in the back was a smaller black trunk. I dragged it into the center of the room and opened it.

Inside were books. Dozens of them.

I pulled them out one by one, checking the titles.

History of the Northern Packs.

The Twelve Great Alphas. I set it aside for further research.

Ancient Wolf Territories.

Then I saw it.

A small, weathered book bound in dark brown leather. Five words were embossed across the cover in gold lettering.

THE BOOK OF WEREWOLF HISTORY

My pulse quickened.

I lifted it carefully from the trunk, my hands trembling with anticipation.

This was it.

The history the Council didn't want us to know.

I carried it to the old desk beside the window and set it down. My fingers brushed the cover.

I was about to open it when I heard the unmistakable creak of the cabin's front door.

I froze.

Someone had just walked inside.