Chapter 3 - The Wolf They Tried to Poison
Bradley arrived at Blackwood Estate at 12:23 a.m.
Christmas Day.
He was not alone.
Two Crescent Ridge enforcers followed in a second vehicle.
Juliet watched the security camera feed from Ronan’s study while Bradley stood outside the locked iron gates in a black parka, snow gathering on his shoulders.
He pressed the intercom.
“Juliet.”
Her stomach twisted.
Ronan stood beside the desk.
“You don’t have to answer.”
Juliet looked at the screen.
Bradley pressed again.
“I know you’re in there.”
Ronan’s jaw flexed.
Juliet noticed.
“You want to kill him.”
“No.”
She looked at him.
Ronan sighed.
“I want to hurt him enough that he remembers the lesson.”
“That’s not better.”
“It’s more honest.”
Juliet almost smiled.
Then Bradley’s voice came through the speaker again.
“Juliet, please. This got out of hand.”
Something inside her snapped.
She pressed the intercom button.
“Out of hand?”
Bradley’s head jerked up.
“Juliet.”
“You threw me into a blizzard.”
“I told them to escort you off pack land. I didn’t realize they’d take your phone and bag.”
“You watched them drag me out.”
“I was angry.”
“And I was freezing.”
Bradley looked away from the camera.
Behind him, one enforcer shifted uncomfortably.
“Come back,” Bradley said.
Juliet went still.
Ronan’s eyes narrowed.
“Why?” she asked.
“We need to talk.”
“You had a hundred witnesses when you announced Stella was going to be your mate.”
“This isn’t about Stella.”
Juliet stared at the screen.
“What is it about?”
Bradley hesitated.
That hesitation told her more than his answer.
“My father wants you home.”
Of course.
Not Bradley.
Grant.
Juliet looked at Ronan.
He had heard it too.
“Why?” she asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Ask him.”
“Juliet, open the gate.”
“No.”
Bradley’s face hardened.
A familiar expression.
The same one he wore whenever affection stopped getting him what he wanted.
“You’re still technically Crescent Ridge.”
Ronan reached for the intercom.
Juliet caught his wrist.
The instant she touched him, heat flashed between them.
Both froze.
Ronan looked down at her hand.
Juliet released him quickly.
“I’ve got this.”
He stepped back.
Juliet pressed the button again.
“I was Crescent Ridge when you threw me out.”
“You were emotional.”
“You were cruel.”
Bradley’s jaw tightened.
“If Blackwood is filling your head with nonsense—”
Ronan made a quiet sound.
Not quite a growl.
Juliet glanced at him.
“Behave.”
His eyebrows rose.
But he did.
Bradley continued.
“My father says there are legal issues involving your guardianship.”
There it was.
Juliet felt strangely calm.
“Tell Grant I’ll speak to him when I have counsel.”
Bradley stared into the camera.
“Counsel?”
“Yes.”
“Since when do you talk like that?”
The insult was subtle.
It still landed.
Since when did the omega servant understand law?
Since when did Juliet think she had rights?
She smiled without warmth.
“Since people stopped poisoning me.”
Bradley went pale.
Juliet saw it.
So did Ronan.
The silence on the intercom stretched.
Finally, Bradley said, “What are you talking about?”
“Good night.”
“Juliet—”
She disconnected the speaker.
Bradley stood at the gate for another twelve minutes.
Then he left.
Ronan said nothing until the taillights disappeared.
“He reacted.”
Juliet nodded.
“He knew something.”
“Maybe not everything.”
“You’re defending him?”
“No.”
Ronan looked at her.
“I’m reminding you not to decide which betrayal occurred before we have proof.”
Juliet leaned against the desk.
“I hate that you’re reasonable.”
“I can stop.”
“Please don’t.”
By sunrise, Juliet’s body began to change.
At first, it felt like a fever.
Then came the pain.
Her bones ached.
Her skin became too sensitive for clothing.
Every sound in the estate sharpened until she could hear the furnace vents, the wind beneath the eaves, Ronan’s heartbeat from across the room.
Her wolf paced inside her.
Not weak.
Not small.
Furious.
Maya returned before nine.
“The wolfsbane levels are dropping faster than expected,” she said.
Juliet curled on the sofa, wrapped in blankets.
“Is that good?”
“Eventually.”
“That is not an answer.”
“It means your metabolism is aggressive.”
Ronan stood near the fireplace.
“What does she need?”
“Space to shift.”
Juliet sat up.
“I haven’t fully shifted since I was thirteen.”
Maya frowned.
“What happened at thirteen?”
“I collapsed.”
“After taking the pills?”
Juliet thought back.
“Yes.”
Maya and Ronan exchanged another look.
Juliet groaned.
“I am starting to hate when you two do that.”
Maya sat beside her.
“Your first full shift may have been interrupted chemically. Your body may try to complete it now.”
“How bad?”
“Possibly very bad.”
“Excellent.”
Ronan crouched in front of her.
“The estate has a secure training field behind the west wing.”
Juliet looked at him.
“You really do have a secret pack.”
“I have complicated neighbors.”
“Same thing.”
At 10:04 a.m., Juliet stepped into the snow wearing borrowed boots, thermal clothing, and a coat that fit.
The storm had passed.
Sunlight turned the mountain white and painfully bright.
The training field was enclosed by stone walls and pine trees.
Maya remained near the gate.
Ronan stayed twenty feet away.
“Why are you so far over there?” Juliet asked.
“Because my wolf is not calm around yours.”
Juliet’s pulse jumped.
“That sounds like a problem.”
“It is my problem.”
Again.
Choice.
Space.
Her chest tightened.
Then pain tore through her spine.
Juliet screamed.
She dropped to her knees.
The world exploded.
Bones shifted.
Muscles tore and rebuilt.
Her hands struck the snow and became paws.
Her wolf surged forward like something breaking through years of chains.
Juliet had expected pain.
She had not expected power.
The shift happened completely in less than thirty seconds.
When it ended, silence filled the field.
Juliet opened her eyes.
Everything was different.
Sharper.
Brighter.
She could smell pine sap beneath the snow, metal from the gate, coffee on Maya’s breath, and Ronan.
Ronan smelled like cedar, smoke, winter air, and something that made her wolf move toward him before Juliet consciously decided to.
Maya whispered, “Oh my God.”
Juliet stopped.
What?
Ronan was staring.
Not in horror.
In disbelief.
Juliet looked down.
Her paws were huge.
Silver-white fur covered them.
Not gray.
Not brown.
Silver.
A color she had never seen on any Crescent Ridge wolf.
Her reflection appeared faintly in the dark glass of the training hall.
Juliet stared at herself.
She was enormous.
Nearly Ronan’s wolf size, judging from the training photographs she had seen inside.
A pale stripe ran from her forehead down her back like moonlight.
Maya took one involuntary step backward.
Then she bowed her head.
Juliet froze.
“Maya?”
The word formed through the pack-link sensation she had believed she could barely use.
Except this time it was clear.
Powerful.
The thought carried across the field.
Maya’s head snapped up.
Ronan’s eyes flashed gold.
“You heard me,” Juliet realized.
“Yes,” Maya whispered.
Juliet’s wolf stepped forward.
A wave of dominance rolled outward.
Maya’s knees bent.
Not by choice.
Ronan remained standing, but every muscle in his body tightened.
Juliet panicked.
She pulled the power back.
The pressure vanished.
Maya stared at her.
“That is not omega dominance.”
Juliet would have laughed if wolves could.
Ronan slowly approached.
His eyes remained fixed on her.
“What am I?” Juliet asked through the strange mental connection.
Ronan stopped three feet away.
His voice was low.
“Exactly what Grant Jenkins was afraid you would become.”
Juliet’s wolf lifted her head.
Ronan bowed.
Not deeply.
But unmistakably.
An Alpha acknowledging another Alpha.
Juliet stared.
“No.”
“Yes.”
Before she could respond, the estate alarm sounded.
One long electronic tone.
Then another.
Ronan’s head snapped toward the house.
Maya checked her phone.
Her face changed.
“What?” Ronan demanded.
“Someone accessed the White Pine archive from the regional records system.”
Juliet shifted back painfully, dropping to her knees in the snow.
Ronan immediately removed his coat and wrapped it around her.
“Who?” Juliet asked.
Maya turned the phone toward them.
The login name appeared on the screen.
GRANT JENKINS.
And beneath it, a second notification.
ARCHIVE REQUEST: DAWSON SUCCESSION FILES.
Ronan’s eyes became gold.
“He knows her wolf woke up.”
Juliet pulled the coat around herself.
“How?”
Maya looked toward the southern ridge.
“Because when an Alpha heir fully manifests, every wolf bound to her stolen territory can feel it.”
Far across the valley, church bells began ringing for Christmas morning.
Juliet stood barefoot in the snow.
For the first time in sixteen years, she felt something answering from beyond the mountain.
Hundreds of distant wolves.
A faint mental pull.
A bond.
Not Crescent Ridge’s bond.
Hers.
May you like
And somewhere inside that connection, fear spread like fire.
Grant Jenkins was terrified.
