~Author's Note~

Thank you guys for the support with the first chapter, we really liked how this chapter turned out so we hope you do too. We would love to hear your thoughts so please leave a review down below if you enjoyed it! :)

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chapter two

pull back the veil of mystery

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"I didn't think you'd come," Wyatt says with a smile, taking a few steps forward. She wasn't expecting him to smile, and it takes her breath away, if only for the brief moment that it settles on his face, gone before she can put much thought into it.

"I didn't think you had a phone," Addison quips in response, smiling to let him know she's joking. "Of course I came; why wouldn't I?"

"It's just...it's been so long." The light catches him differently the closer he gets, one step after another, and soon there's only a foot or two between them. "I wasn't sure if you'd want to come back. I thought you might be enjoying your human life, college and stuff." He pauses, and then says carefully, "Zed."

Her heart beats faster.

"I always want to be part of the pack," she says. "You know that." She looks down, kicks some leaves aside with her boot, exposing the dirt of the ground below. "I meant to come and see you last summer, but I was just so busy with-"

"You don't have to be sorry, Ads," he says, his tone quieter. "I'm just happy to see you." They lapse into a silence, way more awkward than she had anticipated. It shouldn't be like this, she thinks, shifting from one foot to the other. He was her best friend for years upon years, and now it was like they were strangers, even though they weren't. They could never be strangers because she couldn't ever forget about him, forget about his smile and his eyes and his hair, three little things that only made up half of what she—

She clears her throat and wonders if seeing the rest of the pack would be like this, tension she can't disperse hidden below the surface, because she and Wyatt had always clicked, had always flowed together easier than any river or creek or stream. It hurts her heart, knowing that, even though it was stupid of her to think nothing would change, things had; Wyatt was different now, and so was she.

"Hey," Wyatt says, and her eyes turn upwards, to the soft grin that blooms on his lips. "I'm glad you're back."

He steps forward, closing the distance between them, and suddenly she is wrapped in his arms, the heat of his body a deterrent to the cold that is settling over the earth as night ushers itself in. She hugs him tight in response, closing her eyes against the warmth of his chest, and for a minute, it feels just like old times, like they are teenagers again and they had never parted.

"Will the rest of the pack be glad I'm back?" she dares to ask as they part and she catches the slight twist of his lips out of the corner of her eye, a frown he hides too quickly.

"They won't go against me," he replies, his voice suddenly barbed with an edge and a bite that he never had before. Her eyes flick over again to the mark on his cheek. Alpha, she reads in the three little lines painted there, and wonders what he went through to get it. Why he got it.

Wyatt was never meant to be Alpha. Not because he was lesser or weaker or unworthy. He was Beta because he had a heart that some of the other werewolves lacked, kind where they were heartless, forgiving where they were ruthless. It was why he and Willa were chosen. She was the flames and he was the water meant to douse them.

Or at least, to Addison's knowledge, from snippets of information and prophecies she had gathered over the years. Lighter tales from Wynter over s'mores at the fire, neither willing to stoke the flame. Honest stories from Wyatt on the edge of the cliff, his voice wavering. Harsh truths from Willa as they stalked their prey in the forest, her eyes never leaving her target.

Wyatt being Alpha meant the balance had shifted, that something had happened while she was gone, something that had left him with no other choice, because that's just who he was. She knew him, and she knew he would've followed Willa faster than she could've told him no. Him being here, him being Alpha...

The thought sends a shiver down her spine.

Where was Willa?

"So you're...in charge now?" she asks carefully, not sure where she should even start to ask about it. His hand reaches up and touches his cheek, unbidden, and his face twists into something unreadable. For a long moment, he doesn't say anything at all in response.

"Can I show you something?" he says in lieu of an answer to her question, and her stomach twists in dread of all the things he will not say. Still, she pastes a smile on her face and nods, pretending not to notice that he has blown her off, that she knows there are things he's not telling her.

He gestures for her to follow and leads her into the trees, just slow enough for her to keep up. It's not as easy as she remembers it being, to move through the trees like a ghost, to navigate the mountainous terrain of the forest as it rises and falls and drops, large rockfalls and thickets too dense to pass through in their way. She'd never been the perfect wolf, but she'd been better than this once upon a time, rather than following along blindly like a clumsy pup under a new moon.

Wyatt is harder to keep up with than ever before; the years they've spent apart have refined his movements and sharpened his eyes, made him quicker and quieter than ever before. He was born into it, so he was always one step ahead, always turning around to make sure he didn't leave her behind. Once, she had felt like she might be able to catch up to him, even to surpass him, but as the years have stretched, so has the depth of his skill, the ease with which he navigates his home.

She pauses to watch as he leaps up and over a tumble of rocks that have fallen down the mountain and disappears on the other side, leaving her in his wake, hopelessly lost. The rocks are high and slippery with wet moss, hard to see her way up in the fading sunlight. She hears him jump and land on the other side, and steels herself; she is a wolf, even if she is not a very good one, and Wyatt is waiting for her.

She places her hands against the damp rock, and she climbs.

He watches her with a grin as she slides down the other side, picking her way down the rocks to the safety of the ground again with twice the caution of any other wolf. "Too high for you, Alpha?" he asks, but it is not unkind, his eyes alight with humour.

"Maybe a little bit," she admits, wiping her hands on her pants. Already, there is dirt caught in the creases of her skin and packed in under her fingernails; almost like she never left at all. He laughs at her and kicks at a rock, his lips still pulled into a smirk.

"So," he says casually as he begins the walk again, "How are things with Zed?"

Addison wrings her hands, careful with where she steps as they descend deeper into the forest, green trees and greener brush stretching out all around them, complementing the dark purple sky above as the sun dips below the horizon.

"Good," she answers, her voice carefully neutral. He jumps on top of a log and walks across it easily, hopping off at the end. "Really good." Her stomach twists at the words, like she's lying to him.

Wyatt glances over as they make their way carefully across a small creek, the water lapping at their boots. "That good, huh?" he asks as he hops from rock to rock, something odd in his tone.

"Of course."

At the last stone, Addison decides it's a small enough gap and jumps to the grass awaiting her on the other side. Her foot barely catches the edge of the bank, just a few inches short of a safe landing, and she starts to fall. She throws her arms out in a pitiful attempt to save herself, panic clutching at her, but just before her back hits the creek, strong arms wrap around her waist and yank her forward to solid ground.

She exhales in relief, looking up and seeing Wyatt standing there, his arms crossed against his chest. "Slacking with your training, Alpha?" he asks, his voice teasing.

She smiles and shakes her head, bringing her attention away from his arms and back up to his eyes. "Thanks for the save," she replies, and she watches as the werewolf smiles before nodding his head towards the direction they were originally heading.

"Come on, there's still a-ways to go." He begins walking again, and she hurries to keep up, matching his pace.

"Where are we going?" she asks, sticks and leaves crunching underfoot.

"Somewhere." She rolls her eyes when he laughs, unable to keep up the joke.

"Wyatt," she deadpans, shoving him in the back of the shoulder, another laugh rumbling from him. He turns around and holds his arms out, walking backwards almost perfectly as he does so.

"Come on, Ads, live a little. Let me surprise you with something. Don't you trust me?"

Addison's only slightly worried he'll fall. "Of course I do. But you know I don't like surprises."

He flashes another smile, "Then you haven't lived enough while you were away. Come on." He turns back around and takes off running, leaving her behind, her mouth agape as he moves faster than he ever did years ago, easily dodging stumps and logs and tiny holes to get caught in.

She weighs her options in her head for a minute (when was the last time she was as wild and as carefree as a werewolf?) before taking off after him, following his laughter through the trees.

It's so easy, being with him. All of it is easy, and now that they're together it's like she never left, like she never drifted away in the first place. She hasn't felt this alive since she left Seabrook; and she never once blamed Zed for suggesting they do, because it was her idea too, but being with Wyatt, talking and laughing and living, she can't quite remember why she ever left.

She's exhausted by the time he drops back to a walk again, legs burning from the steep incline of the last part of their mad chase, zigzagging up the side of a mountain. As she stops, gasping for breath, her hands resting on her knees, she realises that her surroundings are vaguely familiar—the trees have grown and fallen and renewed themselves over the years, of course, and the moon that is rising overhead is new to her eyes, but the rocks are the same, as is the tiny deer path that leads them up and up and up.

Wyatt waits for her between the two big old oaks that have stood on this side of the mountain for more years than she has been alive, twisted and bent as ever by the winds that batter them every winter. "Are you okay?" he asks, and there's laughter in his voice, barely hidden.

"Yeah," she assures him between breaths and straightens, waving him away. "That was...that was fun."

He laughs, the sound echoing through the brush surrounding them, and Addison can't help but smile as he waves her on, allowing her to lead the way. "Just on the other side," he tells her, his chest close to her back as she pushes through overgrown branches and leaves, and she swears she can hear his smile in his voice. She shoves aside the final branch, and for the third time that night, all of her breath leaves her lungs because they're not just anywhere - they're at the—

"Our place," she whispers, taking a few steps forward so she's in the center of the room, spinning in place as her eyes take in the cavern she used to have the path memorized to, the cavern she swore she would never forget.

(She doesn't think she ever did, just thinks she stored it away, fearful of what could be lurking there if she dared to think of it or speak of it, worried that she'd never see it again or Wyatt again, that she'd never be a true werewolf, fierce and wild and free.)

Wyatt's smirking as he walks up beside her, taking in the cliff; their place. It's a shallow cave pressed into the side of the mountain, a rocky overhang with a bit of flat rock underneath it, enough for a small gathering of people to sit together and talk. It was once a meeting den for Elder wolves from ages long since passed, before Seabrook ever existed. The rock is carved by hand, names hewn into the walls of Alphas and Betas and were-pups and healers, a whole civilization, created from nothing and carved into eternity.

At the other end of the cave, the walls peel away, the edges of the cliff and the overhang above sitting flat like the gums of a gaping maw without any teeth, leaving a piece of sturdy rock jutting out into the open, suspended over the empty skies of forever. This is their place, the place she could never forget. This is where they have sat, hour after hour and night after night and talked and watched and lived, free of packs and families and obligations.

This slab of rock is where they found forever, promised forever, learned forever. This is the place she could never forget.

"I can't believe this is still here," Addison whispers as she makes her way over to the deepest corner, lifting her hand to the rock sitting there. It's cold against her palm, and she can't see the names this close, the moonlight her only ally, so she reaches for her necklace, lifting it up. It lights at her touch, glowing blue, her fingers tracing over the etched lines, her nails catching on the abrupt starts and stops, letters notched across, one after another, random in their placement but precise in their ordering. The light from her moonstone catches Wyatt's attention as she drags her hand across so many names they could never count them all.

Wilona.

Winnie.

Munroe.

Landon.

Names from anywhere, everywhere. Werewolves from different packs, all come together as one, untied, never to break, never to fall. The packs had gotten more divided over the years, as the old had passed on and been replaced by the new, and while Addison and Wyatt and a lot of other wolves were glad some traditions were forgotten, she did wish the packs would remember where they came from. How they prevailed against natural disasters and forest fires and humans with too much time on their hands to tinker and create. If she was ever to become the Great Alpha officially, she thinks it would be the first thing she would do.

Rachael.

Orson.

Wynona.

Addison's finger catches on the name. Wynter's mom. Wyatt walks up beside her, his eyes flickering across the names himself, and when she looks over he's looking at a different set of names, names that she knows all too well.

Rohan.

Wilane.

Willa.

Wyatt.

He hovers close enough to the wall that he could trace the letters if he wanted to, but he doesn't, doesn't allow his eyes to linger on his mom's smooth letters, his dad's blocky ones, or his sister's curved ones a few spaces over, the last letter of her name overlapping the shakiness of his own lettering.

She lowers her hand from the wall so that she can take his, and he startles at the action, almost jumping back, lost to a sea of memories even he couldn't swim back from. She smiles at him. Her fingers are freezing from the rock, cold washing over his overheated skin. He offers her a half-smile, reaching his other hand up to scrub over his face, and if his hand catches tears, Addison doesn't see.

She's still holding his hand as she continues along the wall, coming to a stop near the opening, Wyatt trailing behind her. Right where the rock curves around there's something written by clumsy, fumbling, drunken hands, written with boisterous laughter and loud protests over whether or not it was a good idea.

Addison
The Great Alpha.

"Do you remember this?" she asks him, her moonstone back in place, the moonlight enough for this memory.

"Of course I do. That was the night you groped me—"

The word is barely out of his mouth before she's smacking him in the arm, her mouth agape. "I did not," she defends, her voice echoing through the cavern. Wyatt rolls his eyes, already holding back

"You were either groping me or trying to shove me off the cliff."

Her cheeks flush, bright red, and it's then that he laughs, unable to hold it in anymore. He's smirking and she's having trouble hiding her smile, and when he bumps his shoulder with hers, playful, him, them, her heart feels full. They're still holding hands as they make their way outside the cavern, sitting down so close to the edge that one stray gust of wind could cause them to tumble over.

"Wyatt?" she asks when the silence draws long and he has run out of distractions to ask her about.

"Hm?" he replies; his eyes are fixed on the horizon, the stretch of the forest as it rises and falls with the mountains, blind to her. Only the pack mark stares her in the eye, purple like stained ink on a blank page, three marks instead of two. Wrong. Different. Condemning.

"Where's…" She's not sure how to approach the subject, how to ask what could be a difficult question for him to answer. "Are you the Alpha now?"

He stiffens, the tension running up his spine and settling in his shoulders. "I am," he says, like he's forcing it out through reluctant teeth. "Willa is...gone," he adds, before she can even ask. "Wren is Beta."

"I didn't realise so much had changed," Addison says, carefully neutral, and leans back on her hands.

"It's been a long year." Wyatt's voice is low and contemplative, detached from the conversation as his attention turns outwards again; always on the forest, always on his territory and all the things that could be out there. It's out of character, for Wyatt; and sure, she's barely seen him in three or more years, but she's never seen him so distracted before, his eyes turned so far away from her.

"Can I ask...what happened?"

He's quiet. She doesn't know what he's thinking, and she doesn't know what to think. For a moment, she thinks he's going to keep it from her, not tell her what happened and why, and then he's watching the treeline. "Willa's...there was...a misunderstanding. She was exiled from the pack. I took her place."

Misunderstanding. She rolls the word around her head, trying to divulge meaning from what little he's given her. It doesn't make sense, not to her; she'd always thought this pack was tight-knit, unlikely to turn on each other. Maybe she was incorrect, or maybe the years have split the wolves apart, like they had split her and Wyatt.

"Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?" she asks, careful not to probe too far in case he up and leaves her here. She's always thought him steady as a rock, faithful and unshakeable, but tonight he is almost flighty, perched at the edge of their place like he could disappear at any moment.

His face twists, unreadable. "No," he answers before she can say anything else. "I need to ask you a favor."

"A favor?" She turns in her seat, one leg thrown over the edge of the cliff and the other tucked up beneath her. "What is it?"

"Well," he starts slowly, like he's almost afraid to ask now that it comes down to it. "You know about the other packs, right? River Pack, Mountain Pack, Lowlands…" Addison nods. "Since we got the moonstone back, they've all been coming here to recharge their moonstones, like they used to before it was stolen, and to...to meet the Great Alpha. We've told them that you're — that she's — gone into the wild, that she'll come back when she wants to, but they don't really believe it…"

"Okay," Addison says slowly, trying her best to keep up. Wyatt takes a breath, and then continues.

"The last pack to come is Mountain Pack," he tells her, and his eyes turn out to the wide view before them — not towards Seabrook, off to the left, a mass of winking lights cluttered on the edge of the ocean. "We don't know when they'll arrive, or how long they'll stay, but I was hoping—"

"You want me to be the Great Alpha," she finishes for him, far more succinct than he was ever going to be.

Wyatt nods. "If just one pack sees the Great Alpha, they will all stop asking. And you won't have to do anything but pretend to be an Alpha — and, I mean, you're cheer captain, you're already a great leader. It'll be a piece of cake."

"I haven't been cheer captain in years, Wyatt," she reminds him.

"You're still a leader," he insists. "You always have been, and you always will be." He ducks his head down. "You'd probably make a better Alpha than I do."

"That's not true."

"I think it is." His eyes meet hers. "I told you, you were always destined for something greater, Ads. Leading the pack, it's your destiny." He winces, realizing the weight of his words a second too late. "Or, if you want it at least."

She sits still for a moment, following the line of his sight out into the misty depths of the mountains, dark under the half moon's light. She's conflicted; it would be so easy to take up his offer, to come back to the den and the pack and the freedom of running through the forest for a few days, or weeks, or months. But Zed...she was supposed to be spending her summer with Zed. To fix whatever was broken between them, to get back to where they were before. He wouldn't be happy, if she took off into the forest with the wolves again, if their time together was cut short.

She really wants to help Wyatt though. To be a wolf again, just for a little while. It's been so long since she's run free like this, wild and untamed. For three years now, she's been far away at college, tied to her classes and studying and nights out with Zed's ever-growing circle of friends while hers remained just two or three of her classmates.

She'd thought when she moved, that she would love her classes like she'd loved learning at school, that she would cheer on the local team in her spare time and make plenty of friends and maybe even find some time to go to the national park down the road and be a wolf for a while, the way her moonstone always begged her to be. Nothing has turned out the way she'd hoped it would, she realises now, looking back. The only thing that ever stayed as golden as it was in her imagination was running with the wolves here; with Wyatt, when she was younger.

She feels like she's crazy, like she's making a commitment she might not be able to keep, but she nods. "Okay," she says, meeting his eyes, brown clashing against blue. "Okay."

He smiles, and his fangs catch in the moonlight.

This time, she watches him, watches as he gazes from one end of the valley known as their home to the other. Again and again and again, her eyes find the Alpha mark, stark against the white of his skin. It looks wrong, not like him, its meaning too harsh when it is placed under his soft eyes, and the smile that tugs gently at his lips. She wants to mention it, how the Beta mark suited him better, how different he looks now, but she bites the comment back, you'd probably make a better Alpha than me echoing loud in her head.

"It's been a long time since I was a wolf though, Wyatt," she says quietly after they sit in silence for a little longer, the moon high in the sky, not a cloud in sight, the night seeming endless when they're up here, on the verge of so many old promises.

Wyatt doesn't look worried. "That's okay, Ads," he reassures her, something familiar in his tone that makes her stomach do flips. "We can fix that."

His fingers brush against hers, claws dragging feather-light against her skin. She almost grabs his hand, intertwines their fingers, does all the things she should've been doing with Zed. She gently pulls her hand away instead, folding them in her lap, and he turns back to his never-ending surveillance of the mountains he's been left to rule, unaware of her eyes when they turn back to watch him again.

If she had to pick, she was glad Willa was the one gone.

She doesn't think she would've been able to come back home and discover that he was gone. A shiver runs down her spine, summoned by the dread that creeps through her gut at the mere thought of it.

Wyatt notices, his eyes turning back to her. "Hey, you okay?"

"I'm okay. It's just a little chilly up here." The lie slips easily through her teeth and he nods, reaching his arms up and stretching.

"I would say I could warm you up, but..." He chuckles, smirking, and she's reminded of the days spent in high school, when Zed and Wyatt were unable to stand each other. Wyatt would push Zed every opportunity he got, because he knew he could, Zed groaning and muttering and cursing in zombietongue so colorful even Addison couldn't keep up.

"Zed." She offers for him instead, her body stiff, her voice firm.

Wyatt nods. He leans back on one hand, putting distance between them. "How long can you stay tonight?" he asks, rather than pursuing a topic he has no interest in.

She glances towards the bright lights of Seabrook and thinks of her parents, and her promise to be home in time to eat with them. "Not long," she sighs regretfully. "An hour, maybe."

"Will you come back tomorrow?"

Her eyes linger on Seabrook, and the dark line of the wall that still stands between it and the scattered lights of Zombietown. She needs to see Zed tomorrow. She's been waiting so long to see him, and she'd had precious little time with him today, between her parents and trying to convince him that coming out here was a good idea…

"I'll try," she says, the best offer she can give him.

Wyatt nods and turns back to the mountains, his eyes fixed to the wild just as hers are to the bright lure of civilization.