Chapter 3 Underground

Lila’s POV

The line between Ironhowl territory and the rogue lands was marked by a rusty chain-link fence, but I didn't bother using the gate.

I cleared the metal mesh in one easy bound, landing softly in the gravel on the other side with no money, no spare clothes and absolutely no plan.

My mother’s terrified voice kept echoing in my head. The Veil Keeper. Why had she known that name and why had her face turned ash-gray when she said it?

A dark vehicle crept down the narrow access road behind me, its tinted windows reflecting the gray morning sky. It wasn't an Ironhowl patrol truck. I picked up my pace, cutting sharply through an old rail yard where rusting train cars offered cover.

I ducked between two giant steel containers, held my breath and listened as the vehicle's engine hummed past before disappearing into the distance.

The cheap burner phone Dorian had shoved into my pocket yesterday vibrated against my hip. I flipped it open quickly.

“Lila?” Dorian's voice came through the speaker in a frantic whisper. “Are you safe?”

“I think so,” I said, leaning my back against the corrugated metal wall. “Dorian, who is the Veil Keeper? Mom almost passed out when she said it.”

“I don't know, but the elders called an emergency meeting forty minutes ago,” Dorian replied, the sound of muffled footsteps in the background. “Jaxen is losing his mind. He locked himself in the Alpha office after you left, but the elders were on a secure conference call with someone outside the pack. I couldn't hear the name, but the air in the hallway smelled cold, like ozone. Listen to me. You need to hide. Go to a place called the Pit in the lower warehouse district. It’s rogue territory, but they don't ask questions there.”

“The Pit?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “Sounds charming.”

“It's an underground racing circuit,” Dorian said hurriedly. “You can earn cash and no one from Ironhowl dares to go there. I’ll keep gathering info from this end. Stay safe, sis.”

The line went dead.

I pocketed the phone, swallowed the lump in my throat and headed toward the smoke-filled horizon of the lower district.

It took me three hours on foot to reach the industrial park. The Pit was hidden inside a massive abandoned factory where the smell of motor oil and burnt rubber hung heavy in the air.

Hundreds of wolves crowded around a dirt track lit by glowing halogen work lights. People screamed, waved wads of cash and shoved each other as two racers tore around a tight turn.

A beefy guard built like a brick wall blocked the entrance, crossing his thick arms.

“Name?”

“Vespera,” I lied smoothly, using the strange name from the forest.

He grunted, nudging his chin toward the floor. “Keep your hands in your pockets and don't pick fights with the pack alphas.”

I pushed through the noisy crowd, looking for a quiet corner to clear my head. Near a makeshift medical station set up on folding tables, a woman with sharp green eyes and auburn hair was wrapping a thick white bandage around a runner's bloody forearm.

She pulled the knot tight with a sharp snap, making the giant male wolf wince.

“Stop whining, Leo. It's a scratch,” she said, tossing her bloody gloves into a trash can.

She turned her eyes on me, sweeping her gaze from my dirt-streaked face down to my torn running shoes.

“Well, well. You smell like a storm that hasn't decided where to land.”

“I'm just looking for a place to sit,” I said defensively.

“I'm Sable,” she said, leaning against the table with a sly grin. “You look like you haven't slept in three days and your clothes look like they went through a woodchipper. I have a spare cot in the back room. I'll let you sleep on it if you help me unload two crates of medical supplies from my truck.”

“Deal,” I replied immediately.

Before we could move, a tall wolf with a golden chain around his neck strutted over, surrounded by four giggling followers. He looked at me, then scoffed loudly enough for the surrounding crowd to hear.

“Hey, Sable, where'd you pick up the stray?” he mocked, flexing a bulky bicep. “She looks like she'd break in half if the wind blew too hard.”

Sable's green eyes sparkled with mischief.

“That's rich coming from you, Brock. Care to put your money where your big mouth is? Five hundred bucks says she beats you in a one-lap dash.”

“Are you insane?” I whispered furiously, pulling Sable's sleeve. “I don't even have five dollars!”

“Trust me, kid,” Sable winked at me, slapping a stack of bills onto the betting table. “I have an eye for talent and your legs aren't built for losing.”

Ten minutes later, I found myself standing on the starting line beside Brock. The crowd surged forward, shouting and waving money in the air.

“Try to keep up, sweetheart!” Brock laughed, dropping into a crouch.

The starter dropped a red flag.

I intended to hold back just enough to win quietly, but the second my sneakers struck the dirt, my inner wolf roared to life. A surge of electric power shot through my legs. The world slowed to a crawl.

Brock shifted halfway into his beast form, his claws tearing up the dirt, but I shot past him like a bullet fired from a rifle.

I crossed the finish line before he even reached the first turn.

The crowd went completely silent for two seconds before erupting into wild, deafening cheers. Sable casually swept up the pile of cash from the table, flashing a brilliant smile at Brock, who stared at his own feet in utter embarrassment.

Sable pulled me into the back clinic room, shutting the heavy wooden door behind us. The humor vanished from her face, replaced by a dead-serious expression.

“Alright, joke's over,” Sable said, tossing a cold bottle of water to me. “Fast like that doesn't happen by accident. I've treated every shifter from here to the coast and your energy is entirely different. Whoever sealed your power is going to notice that you broke the lock.”

“I don't even know who sealed it,” I admitted, taking a long drink.

“Well, you better figure it out fast,” Sable said, turning her laptop screen toward me. “Because you're already famous.”

My heart dropped into my stomach.

On the screen was a security video recording from this morning at Ironhowl. It showed me outrunning Marcus in human form, my silver eyes flashing brightly right before Jaxen fell to his knees. The video already had three million views and the comment section was exploding with questions from packs all over the country.

“Look at the crowd in the background,” Sable said, pointing to the bottom-left corner of the screen.

I zoomed in on the blurry footage. A tall figure clad in a dark gray hood stood among the spectators. While everyone else was staring at me in shock, this person was looking directly at the camera lens, holding up a sleek black tracking device.

A sudden, sharp chill ran down my spine.

At three o'clock in the morning, while Sable was asleep on the office couch, the clinic door's brass lock clicked. The heavy iron door swung open without a sound, letting in a gust of freezing night air.

I sat up instantly on the cot, my knuckles turning white as I gripped the edge of the mattress.

A tall young man stepped into the dim room, pulling down his black hood. He had dark hair, sharp features and a pair of striking, glowing silver-gray eyes that matched mine down to the exact shade.

My wolf thrashed violently inside my chest, baring its teeth in a mixture of deep recognition and raw terror.

The stranger smiled coldly, his voice smooth as silk in the quiet room.

“Hello, sister.”