Chapter 170

Caleb’s words rustle up fear inside of me, but I push down on it, not letting it overwhelm me. If Tristan is still alive, he will find a way to survive.

“We’ll rescue him then,” I say with confidence.

Caleb, frowning, shakes his head. “If only it were that simple. Assuming he is still alive, we wouldn’t even know where to begin. The army is gone, and we have no evidence of Samuel being the leader. The entire purpose of this trip has failed. Let’s return to Scott. Maybe he has fared better.”

After gesturing for me to return to the fort, he follows along behind me. Once, as I check to ensure he is behind me, I see him looking back to the blood patch, a tight expression on his face.

Caleb doesn’t have many friends, and fewer still that he can trust. Tristan was his best ally. Now, whether captured or dead, he’s gone.

Continuing into the fort, we wander until we find Scott examining what remains of the central part of the ruins – building with a collapsed roof but sturdy walls.

Scott glances us over for a moment when we approach. He must see from our expressions that our findings were grim, because he does not ask. Instead, he continues to rifle through the trash by the door to the ruined building.

“This is the sturdiest structure here,” Scott says. “Likely, if the leaders of the rebellion convened here for any amount of time, they would have gone into this building to speak privately.”

“We should investigate then.” Caleb walks around me and enters into the building first. I quickly hurry behind him.

Because the roof has mostly caved in, the sunlight shines down in the broken space. A table and chairs has recently been arranged near the center of the room. Markings of a campfire are on the floor – mostly ash now.

“Someone was in here, anyway,” Caleb says. He scents the air. “It’s been too long. The smell is too diluted to be able to differentiate the werewolves who’ve been here.”

Could Samuel have sat in these chairs? I picture him there, surrounded by the other leaders of the rebellion, plotting Caleb’s demise. It’s so strange to imagine him, the boy I loved in my youth, who I thought so sweet yet meek, now turning against his King and the man I’ve come to adore.

What happened to you Samuel? Were you always this way and simply hiding it? Or did something trigger this rage and defiance in you?

“You knew Samuel best,” Caleb says to me. “See if you can spot anything he might have left behind.”

There doesn’t seem to be much in the way of debris. Some garbage, an empty can, a few tissues, some scraps of paper.

Wait.

Walking to the scraps of paper, I rummage through them and pull out one. It’s only one word, written in ink: Those. It’s also crossed out. This is likely a rough copy of some decree, but I know Samuel’s handwriting nearly as well as my own. When we’d been courting, we’d sent letters. I thought it so romantic at the time.

Now I am just grateful.

Holding the scrap of paper like a prize, I turn to show Caleb. “He wrote this.”

Caleb looks at the paper and then up at me. “You are certain?”

“Positive,” I tell him. “See the way he crosses the T? And his ‘e’s are also distinct… If we could find some correspondence of his that he’s signed, I’m sure I can prove it.”

Caleb looks again at the paper. “’Those…’” He grunts. “It’s better than nothing.”

We continue looking for a time, but can’t turn up anything else. The letter – the word – is the only evidence that Samuel was here at all.

The Council won’t like this, even I can tell. It’s hardly enough to go on. But, if we can have it properly compared, it should at least prove that Samuel was here, and likely part of the rebellion. Hopefully this will be what convinces the pack Alphas to place their faith fully in Caleb.

We know Samuel is in charge of the rebellion. We’ve seen it. We just need everyone else to believe us. With Caleb fighting the mate sickness, they seem set on doubting everything he might have to say.

I suppose, in a way, I can understand their hesitation. Caleb has been… volatile lately, and that the man we are accusing is my past fiancé does add a layer of suspicion to the situation. It does help that they have all met Samuel when he was pretending to be timid and agreeable.

Like me, they must be struggling to reconcile the image of a more submissive man with one who could lead an entire rebellion army.

Years ago, I thought I might marry Samuel. He was always set to be pack Alpha, but I imagined we would have a simply life, staying in the pack lands raising our pups and supporting each other.

My past self would never in a million years have anticipated that Samuel would become not just an outlaw, but a leader of an entire rebellion.

Foolish as it is to think on it, I wonder what life would have been like had Leah not spiked my drink that night at the club. If I hadn’t been disgraced, if I’d married Samuel…

Could I have convinced him to stay loyal to the King? Or would he have convinced me to turn against Caleb?

As dire as things are, I can’t bring myself to regret the chain of events that lead me here. Because of everything that happened, I am now with Caleb. Even if I would eventually have to share Caleb, and experience heartache after heartache, I would rather be with him.

With Caleb, I know what love feels like. With Samuel, I thought I did, but it was only the desire to love, not love itself, that I felt for him.

“There’s something in the ashes of the campfire,” Caleb says. Kneeling down, he brushes them to the side. I watch from over his shoulder as he collects something from the muck. Whatever it is makes him growl.

“Caleb?”

Standing, he slowly faces me. His face is so angry, I’m afraid for a moment.

“What is it?”

I move closer carefully, not making any sudden movements, not wanting to upset him. When I’m close enough, I lean in to see.

It’s a burned up photo of me, with only half of my face visible.

“He’s still obsessed with you,” Caleb says, voice deep.

Perhaps not, if he left the photo behind. Though he did burn it. That doesn’t bode well.

“I’m not afraid of him,” I say.

“We don’t know what he’s planning, Harper, but now I’m certain that it involves you.”

“We don’t know that for sure.”

Caleb shows me the picture again, like that says enough. Maybe it does. Maybe I’m delusional, or I’m avoiding the entire issue.

Maybe I still don’t want to think of Samuel as a villain, even though I know he is.

“He thinks he can have you,” Caleb growls. “I will burn the entire world before I let that happen.”