He tried to stay focused on what he was about to face, but his last night in the picturesque glade he’d called home for so many years kept playing through his mind. After his disastrous meeting with Sayre in the woods, he’d known he was done there—that he couldn’t stay. He’d waited until everyone had gone to bed, and then he’d packed his Land Rover with as many of his belongings as he could. His plan had been to take off before anyone noticed, but Eli Drake, a badass Lycan mercenary who had recently returned to the Silvercrest werewolf pack after years of banishment, had found him before he could get away. “You can’t run from fate, man,” Eli had lectured him. “Take that from someone who knows. Even when you try to convince yourself that leaving is the right thing to do, it’s nothing but a goddamn lie. And it all comes back to bite you hard in the ass when it finally catches up to you.” That had been five years ago.
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