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Chapter One
Wreck Itall wasn’t supposed to exist.
He dragged his gaze to the hunter-green tent that had been erected next to the single-wide trailer—the one he’d moved into a few weeks ago in Fastlander territory. He shouldn’t even be here to see the woods peppered with campers.
This tent kept him up tonight. Willamena Barns and her mate, Matt, slept soundly inside. He could tell they were asleep from the cadence of their breathing. He couldn’t stand how close everyone was here. Felt like people were right on top of other people. People, people, people, all too close for comfort.
He didn’t want anyone to see him, or know him, and when Willa was awake and here during the day, she noticed too much and asked too many questions.
He could hear everything. Growing up, before his powers had presented, he’d thought being able to hear so well was a curse.
Then he started being able to feel the emotions of others in a room.
And that was worse.
And then the fire came when he turned sixteen.
Worst.
Hands down, the fire was the worst.
The Fastlander woods were filling with the defenders of Damon’s Mountains because war was near.
At least, according to the up-and-coming seer of the mountains—Lucia Novak—war was coming.
Beaston had seen nothing of the Holland Pride exacting their revenge, so Wreck had questions about Lucia’s visions.
Was she messing with the Fastlanders? Was she wrong? Were her powers messing with her as her baby grew in her belly?
Something didn’t feel right.
“You should just kill them all.” The voice of his father sent awful chills up his spine. He lifted his gaze to the ghost leaning against his truck. He looked just like he had the day he’d died.
“Fuck off,” Wreck murmured.
“Come on, son. That’s not how you talk to your old man.”
Wreck opened his hand and conjured a flame there.
“You gonna kill me, boy?” his dad gritted out. “You’ll never change.”
“What are you doing?” Gunner asked.
Startled, Wreck dragged his gaze from the place the ghost had disappeared. He didn’t like being surprised, and Gunner had been quiet.
“Whatever I want,” Wreck assured him, closing his fist around the flame to extinguish it.
“You know, Hallie told me how nice you were to her and Corey the night you met them at the bar.”
“Cool story,” Wreck murmured as he kept his eyes locked on Gunner.
“You’re meaner to them now that they’re shifters. I’ve noticed it too.”
Wreck sighed and took another drink of his coffee. “Piss off, Gunner. No one cares about your theories.”
“You have a soft spot for humans.” He’d said it quietly, but it felt deafening here in the dark. “Is it because your mom is human?”
Wreck shook his head slowly, denying him an answer. “You won’t get to know me now or ever, Gunner. Go shit-talk me with the Crew. Make up a million stories about me in your heads. Believe them. What you think has nothing to do with me.”
