The second note came with a rabbit.
It lay on my porch one morning, just as the sun was burning the mist off the trees.
Dead.
Neck cleanly broken.
Fur still warm.
A small, smooth stone sat on its back.
On the stone, in neat, spidery handwriting: SOON.
My stomach turned.
Rufus stood beside me, hackles up, growling low.
Theo appeared behind me a second later, scent of sweat and pine and sleep clinging to him.
He’d stayed over again.
On the couch.
Mostly.
“We have to stop finding corpses on my lawn,” I said, trying for light. “It’s bad for my curb appeal.”
Theo’s jaw tightened.
He picked up the stone carefully.
Turned it over.
The back was blank.
“No scent?” I asked.
He inhaled.
“Ridge,” he said. “Old. Familiar. And…Calder.”
“Of course,” I muttered. “He’s not subtle.”
“He wants us to know it’s him,” Theo said. “That he can…reach you. That he’s…watching.”
“Creepy,” I said.
“Yes,” he agreed.
Hayes and Vera arrived minutes later.
Ivy slouched after them, hands jammed in her pockets.
“This is getting old,” she said, glaring at the rabbit. “If he wants to talk, he can send a text like a normal stalker.”
“Don’t give him ideas,” Jordan said, joining us with a laptop bag slung over one shoulder. “If he discovers encrypted messaging apps, I’m quitting.”
Hayes studied the stone.
His face was unreadable.
“He’s impatient,” he said. “Hunters have…accelerated his timeline. He knows he can’t wait for us to…implode. He needs…leverage.”
“Me,” I said.
“Yes,” Hayes said.
Vera’s gaze flicked to me.
“This might be…our opening,” she said quietly.
Theo stiffened.
“No,” he said. “We are not answering his rabbitgram with a meeting.”
“We’re not going to him,” Vera said. “We’re…inviting him. On *our* ground. With *our* wards. With…her.” She nodded at me.
I swallowed.
“Neutral-ish ground,” I amended. “Not the stone. Not my cabin. Somewhere…between.”
“The quarry,” Jordan said immediately.
Theo groaned.
“You and that damn quarry,” he said.
“It’s perfect,” Jordan insisted. “Natural amphitheater. Only a couple of ways in or out. Easy to ward. Good sight lines. Acoustics. You can hear a twig snap from fifty yards. And if things go to shit, we can always…drop a few rocks.”
“We’re not collapsing a quarry onto Calder,” Theo said. “Not yet.”
“Not yet,” Jordan repeated pointedly.
Hayes tapped his cane.
“He’ll come,” he said. “If we phrase it…right. His pride will demand it.”
I thought of Calder’s washed-out eyes.
Of the way he’d smiled when he said he liked me.
Of the way he’d shot Theo without flinching.
“He’s not going to play nice just because we ask politely,” I said.
“No,” Hayes said. “But he’ll…talk. For a bit. He likes the sound of his own voice. We can…learn. Hunters. Rogues. Their…plans. Their…fractures.”
“And he can learn…us,” I said quietly. “Our…fractures.”
“Which is why you’re not going,” Theo snapped.
I turned on him.
“Oh, really?” I said. “When did we decide that?”
“We didn’t,” he said. “I did. Alpha call. Not negotiable.”
My hackles rose.
“So we’re back to you…deciding…for me,” I said. “Neat.”
His eyes flashed.
“This is different,” he said. “This isn’t some ritual or moongazing. This is a man who shot me. Who would shoot you. Who would gut you and dance on your grave if it got him an inch closer to his goals.”
“Exactly,” I said. “Which is why I need to look him in the eye. Hear his voice. See how he moves. I’m not a…child, Theo. I’m not going to faint at the sight of a rogue.”
“You almost did when you channeled the Ridge,” he snapped.
“Because I was pulling half a mountain through my skull,” I shot back. “Not because I can’t handle a conversation.”
“Enough,” Vera said sharply.
We both shut up.
She sighed.
“Theo,” she said, “you’re not wrong. Calder is…dangerous. To her. To all of us. But keeping her…wrapped…doesn’t make him less so. It just keeps her ignorant. You want her as…partner. Not…possession. Let her…decide.”
He looked like she’d slapped him.
“Rory,” he said slowly. “Do *you* want to do this. Really. Without…proving-a-point bravado. Without…magic. Just…you. Against him. Because if you go, his target isn’t going to be us. It’s going to be you.”
Fear scraped my ribs.
Yes, I wanted to prove a point.
Yes, I wanted to tear down this idea that I was something to be moved around like a chess piece.
But more than that… I wanted intel.
I wanted to know what we were dealing with.
I wanted…agency.
“Yes,” I said, voice steadier than I felt. “I want to go. I want to…hear him. And I want him to see that I’m not…afraid to stand in front of him.”
“That’s a lie,” Jordan muttered. “We’re all afraid.”
“I’m afraid,” I said. “I’m going to be afraid whatever we do. But I’d rather be afraid…with my eyes open.”
Theo’s jaw worked.
“You’re going to be the death of me,” he muttered.
“Hopefully not literally,” I said weakly.
He scrubbed a hand over his face.
“Fine,” he said at last. “Quarry. Sunset. Two days. We set the wards. We set the rules. One wrong move from him, I tear his throat out.”
Hayes grunted.
“Send the invitation,” he said.
“How?” I asked. “Smoke signal? Rabbit signal?”
“Stone,” Vera said.
She picked up the little rock Caleb had left.
Turned it over.
Whispered something under her breath.
The air around it shivered.
She tossed it into the trees.
It vanished mid-arc.
“Show-off,” Jordan muttered.
“He’ll get it,” Vera said. “If he’s half as attuned as he claims.”
“Two days,” Theo said. “We prep. We plan. We…don’t do anything…stupid.”
He looked at me pointedly.
I arched a brow.
“I’ll…try,” I said.
***
We spent the next forty-eight hours turning the quarry into a magical death trap.
“Subtle death trap,” Jordan corrected. “We want to talk first. Murder second. If necessary.”
“Always good to have priorities,” I said.
The quarry was a bowl carved into the side of the ridge, half reclaimed by trees and moss. Rocks tumbled down in frozen cascades. A shallow pool at the center reflected the sky.
“We put the meeting in the middle,” Vera said, pointing. “Away from cover. Away from sheer drops.”
Theo snorted.
“Speak for yourself,” he said. “Sheer drops are my comfort zone.”
“We ring it,” Hayes said. “Wards. Old and new. We leave…gaps. Just enough. So we can let him in and keep him there. If he plays…nice.”
“And if he doesn’t?” I asked.
“Rocks,” Elias said cheerfully. “Lots of rocks.”
Ivy perched on a boulder, kicking her feet.
“We’re over-preparing,” she said. “He’s just going to show up, monologue, and leave. They always do.”
“You watch too much TV,” Nora muttered.
“You don’t watch enough,” Ivy shot back. “Narrative patterns are useful.”
Theo nudged me.
“Stick to the plan,” he said quietly. “No…Ridge-pulling. Not unless we say. Not unless it’s…dire.”
“I know,” I said. “Windows. Not doors.”
He nodded.
“Good,” he said. “If you start glowing, Hayes might have a coronary.”
“I’m right here,” Hayes said.
“We know,” I said.
We rehearsed positions.
Me in the center, with Theo half a step behind and to the left—close enough to grab me, far enough not to overshadow. Hayes and Vera near the edge, hands on the ward lines. Jordan just outside the bowl, with his laptop and comms. Sam, Nora, Elias, Ivy, and a rotating cast of wolves positioned at vantage points around the rim.
“We’re not shifting?” Sam asked, annoyed.
“Not unless we have to,” Theo said. “We don’t show him our full hand. Not yet.”
I practiced standing.
Breathing.
Imagining Calder’s face.
Staring him down.
“I feel like I’m rehearsing for a play,” I muttered.
“Opening night’s going to be a bitch,” Jordan said.
Theo stepped in front of me suddenly.
Took my face in his hands.
“You sure?” he asked quietly. “Last chance to bail. No shame. No…judgment. We can…send Hayes. Or…a sternly worded letter.”
Fear and stubbornness waged war in my chest.
I was scared.
Of Calder.
Of what he’d say.
Of what I might feel.
Of what the Ridge might do.
But backing down now?
I couldn’t.
Not without losing something in myself I wasn’t willing to give up.
“Yes,” I said. “I’m sure.”
He searched my eyes.
Then, slowly, he nodded.
“Okay,” he said. “Then we do it. Together.”
He kissed my forehead.
Not my mouth.
Forehead.
Blessing.
Promise.
Anchor.
The Ridge hummed.
Sunset crept closer.
***