Page 76 of Crimson Moon Falling

“I’m still angry,” he murmured into my hair.

“I know. Resonant here.”

His fingers traced slow circles on my back, and for a while, neither of us spoke. The Pack Council, Wilson, the bunker, Spooling. I pushed it away as I curled into his side.

Morning came too soon. Drew knocked on the cabin door just after sunrise, his brows furrowed. Freda stood next to him, quiet and watchful. I threw on Conall’s shirt and tried to tame my hair.

“We need to go,” Drew told Conall. “Malachi called an emergency Council session because the Northeastern Pack is threatening to retract its vote.” He turned to me. “You need to prepare yourself. The signatures came back on those threads, and you were right. One of them is Wilson’s.”

“Who’s the other signature?” Drew glanced at Conall, but I pointed at him. “No, you don’t need to ask his permission. I pulled the thread. I deserve to know.”

The tech specialist pushed up his glasses. “It was Senator White.” I’d already guessed, but I wanted the confirmation.

“Fuck,” Conall ground out. “This keeps getting worse. Come with me.”

He had no idea how much I wanted to. Our bond was still new, and our relationship had begun with misunderstandings and betrayal. We were still learning each other and rebuilding trust. Time together was what we needed, but we both had responsibilities.

“I can’t. I still have an active case here that probably ties in with my father’s disappearance. We’re going to follow up on a few things, then I’ll meet you at the new Packhouse in a week or so.”

He kissed me hard, his hand cradling the back of my head. “Be safe, and don’t pull anything like you just did without talking to me first. Promise me.”

“I won’t.”

“I want your formal promise, a stór.”

Rolling up on my toes, I cupped his cheeks. “I, Riley Blackthorne, promise you, Conall Segerson, that I won’t put myself in danger again unless I have a very good reason.”

The air shifted around us as the promise bound me, and he exhaled. “That was a half-assed promise, but I’ll take it.”

After they left, Freda stared at me for a few seconds, then softly closed the door behind her. Anger and hurt mixed with her usual energy. We needed to clear the air, but I also sensed she needed time to process first. I crawled into bed and pulled Conall’s pillow to me as I listened to the helicopter rotors fade.

A foreboding, melancholy sense crept over me.

Chapter 23

Riley

Gunnar and I retraced Viggo’s life, starting with his cabin. Dust motes and silence greeted us as we cautiously let ourselves in. Even the mysterious tree in the middle of the great room seemed dormant as we carefully tore the place apart, checking every conceivable hiding place, but found nothing.

We searched for another journal, a USB drive, or even a scribbled note. Anything to help us figure out where Viggo could be. Instead, we found mostly books, canned goods, and a sizeable collection of hiking boots, neatly arranged by color. The man was apparently fond of practical footwear.

Next, we stopped at the sporting goods store in Afton. The typical small-town store stocked a strange assortment of items, from fishing poles to homemade jerky to snowshoes. A bait cooler advertising “fresh worms” sat just inside the door. The eighty-year-old owner stood stooped behind the counter, and we had to raise our voices to be heard. He told us Viggo had been in the shop for fishing line over a month ago, but he didn’t say much else.

Freda drove us back to Yellowstone in grim silence, her hands steady on the wheel, the beautiful landscape sliding past. My implant quietly worked, the way it often operated when I was tired or depressed.

My phone vibrated, and I listlessly pulled it out and looked down to see who was contacting me. Someone had texted several photos but no comments. I stared down at pictures of Conall letting two beautiful women in expensive, short cocktail dresses into a luxury hotel suite.

I closed the text and stared unseeing out the window. My phone buzzed with an incoming call as Drew’s name lit up my screen.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” His voice sounded distracted, as if he were multitasking. His keyboard clacked in the background.

“Fine. Sleep and some food helped. We’re driving back from Viggo’s cabin.” Gunnar still didn’t know I could Spool. I probably needed to break it to him soon.

“One of us will call you later and fill you in, but the Alpha says we’re holding off on going public with the signatures.”

I straightened. “Why?”

“Public opinion is still trending against Apex. The registration legislation should be dead soon, three senators have called for hearings, and Apollo’s stock is down. We may not need it.” Drew’s voice had a careful, placating edge. I hated it.