Was this place really part of my past? Were there more lies in my history than I’d realized? Was I even who I thought I was?

I shook away the crazy thoughts, knowing that I was at risk of spiraling. With the moon higher in the sky, I could feel myself weakening.

It didn’t take us long to find The Norn, but the place wasn’t marked. I remembered the green door from earlier in our search, but I’d had no reason to recognize it. A tiny window sat at eye level, covered by a sliding door set into the wood.

“It’s a secret club,” I said. “Like a speakeasy.”

Lachlan tried to open the door, but it didn’t budge. The tiny window whisked open, and a pair of green eyes appeared. They flickered with suspicion as the person asked, “Password?”

Shit.

It was like a speakeasy.

Lachlan

 

* * *

 

I stared at the man’s eyes through the tiny window in the door. This bloody club was proving to be annoying. We didn’t have time for this shit.

I imbued my voice with the Alpha’s Command, feeling it vibrate with power. “Let us in.”

Two lines appeared between the man’s eyes as he inspected us. “Can’t try that on me. Not a shifter.”

“But this is the Alpha’s place,” Eve said.

“Don’t mean it’s run only by shifters.”

That was unfortunate. “I’m Lachlan MacGregor, Alpha of the Guild City pack. Here to pay my respects to the Alpha of Shetland.”

“A moment.” The little window slammed shut.

“Do you know who the Alpha is?” I asked quietly.

“Not by sight, no,” said Eve. “Heard of her, though. Fiona Fraser.”

There were over two dozen packs in Europe alone, so it was no surprise I hadn’t met her. Would have been convenient, though.

A few moments later, the door opened, revealing a bruiser of a man with a bald head and an impeccably tailored suit. “She’ll see you.”

Thank fates pulling rank had worked.

Together, we stepped into the quiet bottom level of the bar. It was an unassuming space, empty save for the metal staircase that wound its way upward. The bouncer gestured for us to take it, and we climbed quickly to the next level. I went in front of Eve, not wanting her to be the first to walk into an unknown place.

The next level was a quiet, dark bar, a classy place with crystal glasses and small, gleaming wooden tables.

“She has a private room,” the bouncer said. “To your left.”

We walked ahead of him, weaving our way through the tiny tables. Though a small jazz band played softly in the corner, I could still hear the revelry outside.

Strange that the Alpha would be in here if there was an important civic event happening.

The room the bouncer led us to was located at the back of the building. Wide glass windows revealed a view of the sea beyond, which glittered in the moonlight.

A woman sat in a massive, thronelike armchair across from the door, her legs crossed casually as she stared at us. There were about a dozen other shifters scattered around the room, lounging in booths and at tables as they drank amber-colored alcohol and murmured in low voices.

The Alpha was only about ten years older than me, with the calm self-assurance of the best alphas. Her dark hair was pulled up in an intricate series of braids, and she was dressed in an outfit of leather and fur that had to be a Viking costume.

She arched a brow as we approached. “Visitors on Up Helly Aa? Don’t you know it’s impossible to find accommodation?”

I inclined my head respectfully. “I am Lachlan, Alpha of the Guild City pack.”

“I know who you are.” Her gaze flicked to Eve. Cunning gleamed in the depths of her eyes, along with ruthlessness. “And who are you?”

“Eve,” she said.

“Just Eve?”

“Just Eve.”

“You’re a strange one, aren’t you?” She studied her, something shadowed in the depths of her eyes. Knowledge? Did she recognize Eve?

It almost felt like she did. But Eve didn’t seem to recognize her.

Fiona gestured to a man standing against the window. He hurried to bring two chairs, and Eve and I sat across from her.

“What brings you to our islands, if not our festival?” she asked.

“A theft,” I said.

Her eyes sharpened. “Not the one that just happened, I’m sure?”

“Perhaps.” I told her the story of what had happened down in London, and what we’d found on Wyre. Perhaps it wasn’t wise to show her our hand so soon, but I left out any mention of Eve’s role and the Maker. As long as she was kept safe, I was willing to take the risk. Anyway, it was important to give something when you wanted something.

As I spoke, the Alpha’s eyes grew more shadowed. “A Moon Stone, you say?”

“Aye. One that was taken centuries ago from its resting place on Wyre.”

Fiona’s lips twisted. “Bastards.”

“What was taken from the stone circle today?” I asked. “We heard about a theft, but we couldn’t get close enough to see.”

She frowned. “You’re a coincidence that I wasn’t expecting.”

“I don’t think any of this is coincidence,” Eve said.

Fiona nodded. “I think you’re right.” She leaned back in her chair. “Another Moon Stone was stolen from us.”

Shock lanced me. “What?”

“Weren't expecting that, were you?”

“No. Though perhaps I should have been.” I frowned. “Did you know it was buried there?”

“We did. Never disturbed it, though, as it wasn’t ours to disturb.”

“The woman I spoke to said it was your turf,” Eve remarked.

Fiona nodded. “Aye. As Alpha, I’m steward of that circle. But it’s an ancient heritage site. More importantly, it’s not our ancient heritage site. We have no right to it or its contents, but we do have a responsibility to protect it.” She grimaced. “We failed, victim of a threat we didn’t see coming.”

Her words about rights and responsibilities spoke to me. For all her ruthlessness and cunning, she could be trusted.

“What do you mean, it’s not your heritage?” Eve said. “Because it belongs to people who came before your ancestors?”

The woman nodded. “The circle was built by people who lived here thousands upon thousands of years ago. They’re closer relations to me than the ancient wolves who buried the Moon Stone there a thousand years ago.”

“The Vikings?” she asked.

“Yes.” Fiona gestured to the people in the room, then toward the windows. “The people on these islands are descendants of the Vikings and Scots who lived here over the last centuries. It’s why we’re burning that boat tonight—remembering our heritage. But the people who buried the Moon Stone at the circle were different.”

“Different how?”

“They were Vikings, yes. But they were a species of wolf unlike any that has been seen in these parts for nearly six hundred years.”

“Extinct?” I frowned. The old man on Wyre had said they were gone, but not extinct. “A breed of shifters who’ve been totally eradicated?”