LISA


    I blink rapidly, my mind struggling to process what''s happening.@@@@


    The glint of the bracelet the Grand Sage slapped onto my wrist catches my eye. Could it be some kind of cloaking device? He does love his magitech. It would make sense that it has multiple uses.


    Ryder steps forward, his brow furrowed as he looks at all of us.


    He can see me, but it''s like he doesn''t really notice me.


    Worry is etched into every line of his face. "Dr. Blackwell," he says, sounding relieved. "We''re having problems with our phones."


    "Yes, so I was informed." The Grand Sage looks at all the wolves with interest. "Shall we go inside? I''m going to need everyone''s devices in order to check on the situation."


    "Of course." Ryder snaps his fingers at the other wolves, who follow behind us without a word. Everyone seems on edge, shoulders tense and eyes wary.


    As we step into the farmhouse, the sight before me steals my breath. Injured shifters lie scattered across the floor, their bodies arranged on blankets in a makeshift triage. The air is thick with the metallic scent of blood, leaving me nauseated.


    Two women I don''t recognize flit between the injured, their hands steady as they tend to wounds. Their faces are grim, etched with determination and exhaustion. I''m rooted to the spot, overwhelmed by the sheer scale of suffering before me.


    Ryder''s voice breaks through my shock. "I apologize for the mess, Dr. Blackwell. We''re still setting up after our... retreat."


    The hesitation in his voice speaks volumes. This wasn''t a planned withdrawal; it was a desperate escape.


    The Grand Sage—Dr. Blackwell now, I remind myself—waves off the apology. "No need for that. We''re here to help, after all."


    She nods gratefully, handing me a roll of bandages. "Start with him," she says, gesturing to a young man with a nasty gash on his arm. "Clean the wound, then wrap it tightly."


    I kneel beside the injured shifter, my hands shaking slightly as I work.


    He hisses in pain as I apply antiseptic, and I murmur an apology. His eyes meet mine, filled with a mix of pain and gratitude. In that moment, I realize it doesn''t matter why I''m here or how I got here. What matters is that I''m here now, and I can help.


    It''s so much better than sitting around mindlessly, not knowing what to do with my life. First as a prisoner, then as an escapee under the Grand Sage''s tutelage.


    This is the first thing I''ve actively chosen to do, of my own volition, in so long.


    As I continue to tend to the wounded, I keep one ear on the conversation at the kitchen table. The Grand Sage is speaking in low tones with Ryder, their words too quiet for me to make out. But from the furrowing of Ryder''s brow and the tight set of his jaw, I can tell the news isn''t good.


    Mia paces nearby, her agitation palpable. At one point, she reaches for her phone, only for her hand to be slapped away by Ryder.


    "Calm down, Mia. We''ve worked with Dr. Blackwell before. He''s trustworthy."


    "Sorry, Delta." She cradles her hand to her chest, stepping away from the desk with an air of chagrin.


    And yet, there''s something about the way Mia''s eyes dart around the room, the tension in her shoulders, that sets off alarm bells in my head. It''s like she''s waiting for something to happen, something bad.


    Chloe, meanwhile, stands still as a statue, her eyes fixed on the Grand Sage''s hands as he works on their phones. The tension in the room is so thick I could cut it with a knife.


    Chloe stands still as a statue, her eyes fixed on the Grand Sage''s hands as he works on their phones. The tension in the room is so thick I could cut it with a knife.


    It''s only then that I see Chloe''s not as calm as she''s pretending to be. Her fingers are clenched into her palms, tight enough for blood to drip to the ground beneath her.


    Strange.