Wolf Shifter Diaries: Lies Tamed (Sweet Paranormal Wolf & Fae Fantasy Romance Series Book 2) E. Hall (best fiction novels of all time .txt) 📖

When we pass through the gate, Corbin says, “You will answer to the Council.”

“Wolves were once fae’s greatest enemy. Don’t you find it interesting that both myself and Kenna are united in the two rather than the monsters you make us out to be?” Greyson had been quiet but it seems the sight of his former home or the proximity of our demise gives him the motivation to push for Corbin to see his side of things.

Corbin grunts. “Define monster. When we discovered Kenna, we had orders to destroy her.”

My stomach swims with anxiety.

Greyson folds his hands in his lap. “Could that have been a ploy? A ruse? A plot to control magicals with a spell?”

“Yes, to keep us from killing each other.” Corbin’s tone is flat.

“Think for one moment, Corbin. The Accord contains a spell that supposedly keeps magicals from indulging their “base” natures and so they don’t inter-mate. However, what if you were told that when in reality, the spell actually suppresses your magic. What if it’s a curse?”

“And what if you were using the Klave’s collective magic to lift the spell to wreak havoc?”

I recall my mother mentioning that the Klave may not have been the wicked group it was made out to be.

“Why would I do that, son?” my father asks.

“I’m not your son. And the answer is simple. Because you’re a power-hungry monster. Here’s a question for you. Why would someone cast a spell on us and make up that elaborate story?”

“Revenge.” My father stares blankly ahead.

“For what?”  Corbin asks.

We’re all quiet for a few miles until the wolf-way chatter from the other vehicles gets louder.

Corbin pulls abruptly to the side of the road and gets out of the Jeep. “Stay here,” he orders as he plunges into the woods bordering the road.

The moon spills milky light over papery birch trees. The damp air excites my wolf with the desire to run, but under it, I pick up another scent.

Death.

I hurry after Corbin and my ghost-dad follows silently.

The other wolves are right behind us.

My super sight reveals a grisly scene of a maimed man lying on the forest floor. He wears hunting fatigues. I recall the hunters at the bakery and wonder if he’s one of them.

“This was the work of a night howl,” my father says.

Corbin scrubs his hand down his face. I sense he’s about to shift.

My father says, “Visalia did this.”

“Who?” I ask.

“Visalia. My father, Alden Johannsson, a cursed werewolf, bit her,” Greyson says.

Chapter 20

Corbin

I can’t help but feel like I’m losing my grip, losing touch. Yet another death on my land and under my watch. It pains me. And enrages me.

“Visalia?” I ask, recalling my encounter and Amanda’s betrayal in Richard Dubois’s house. Then an older memory comes back. “She was Logan’s mate.” The pulse in my chest thrums, drums, roars. “What do you mean that she was the fae your father bit?” I ask Greyson.

Standing by her father’s side, I want Kenna to understand that this isn’t about her. Rather, the fate of our kind. As much as I care about her, at her core, she’s no different from Greyson. He did experiments on vampires, rounded up wolves to use for battle, and worse.

“I don’t know much other than my father was turned shortly after he and Isa, my mother, met. She tended to him and was able to relieve him of the curse, but not before they were attacked by the fae. In the fight, a fae named Visalia was bitten and presumably turned into a werewolf.”

The wind shifts. My hackles lift as a specific kind of uneasiness comes over me, causing my breath to come shallow. My wolf rises toward the surface, sensing a threat.

“The locals were talking about going hunting for whatever was killing the woodsmen,” Trigg says when we meet in the woods.

“And the authorities have started their investigation,” Baker adds.

I falter, unsure if we should report this. If federal agents come in, we’re sure to be exposed. I trust the locals, but the national officials are a different ballgame. Squinting into the depths of the woods, I catch a rippling scent.

I turn to Greyson. “What can you tell us about Visalia?” I sense her presence.

“Ruthless, cunning, out for blood,” Greyson says.

Something in the air wrinkles and a shadow streaks past the trees in the distance.

Greyson, Kenna, and the others follow my gaze.

“She’s there, hunting, preparing for the kill,” I say in a low voice.

Adrenaline replaces concern.

The air remains still for a few minutes as we form a circle with our backs to the body of the hunter. Perhaps she’s coming back for seconds. The hairs on my arms stand up, pressing against the insides of my shirtsleeves.

I scan the woods, following the changes in the air currents, the crinkle of the leaves, and other night sounds. The back of my neck prickles. I crouch. In a blink, my wolf leaps out of me.

Fur glides over my skin as my power comes in full force. The betas follow suit. Kenna remains in physical form. My wolf gazes into her beautiful face, but it’s like we’re on two sides of a window. My wolf frets that my lie makes her unreachable. Distracted, claws dig into me, thrusting me to the ground. I eat it, hard.

I’m face to face with a werewolf. Her eyes are a deep, sickening shade of yellow. Her lips pull back into a snarl and the wispy fur billowing around her head is light brown, wild.

I kick out but her jaw closes around my ankle and drags me backward. I writhe and flail, snarling to get loose, but her teeth tighten.

I wince. Blood beads and then trickles. I