Simon Thorn and the Wolf's Den by Aimée Carter Page A

closed, and above them, a metal casting of an eagle spread its wings.
    â€œIs this the Acad—” Simon began, but suddenly the air around the pack leader shimmered, and Malcolm began to shift. His snout turned into a human face, and his thick fur wove together to form a crisp black uniform. Soon enough, a hulking man stood in front of them, and Simon tried not to stare. His hair was curlier and his face unscarred, but with his bulging muscles, chiseled jaw, and broad shoulders, he looked startlingly similar to Darryl.
    â€œNo, it’s not. Give me the knife,” said Malcolm, holding out his hand.
    Simon bit the inside of his cheek and handed it over. Malcolm inspected the wicked blade and polished handle, and after several seconds he slipped the knife into his belt.
    â€œYou will come with me, and you will not say a word unless spoken to.”
    â€œI’m not going anywhere until you tell me who you are,” said Simon.
    The man narrowed his eyes. “I am Malcolm Thorn, Beta of the mammal kingdom, leader of the Brotherhood of Wolves, and head of security at the L.A.I.R.”
    â€œMalcolm Thorn?” said Simon. “Are you and my uncle—”
    â€œDarryl Thorn was my eldest brother,” said Malcolm, and a muscle in his jaw twitched. “If he is still alive, then he has done an excellent job faking his own death. Even our mother believes him to be dead.”
    â€œYour mother?” said Simon faintly. Darryl had family in the city, and he’d never mentioned them?
    â€œYes, our mother. The Alpha. I expect she’ll want to meet with you as soon as she returns.”
    Simon’s mouth dropped open. The Alpha was Darryl’s
mother
? Which made the Alpha his grandmother, he realized. But why—
    â€œ Meet with us?” said Winter, who had apparently regained some of her confidence now that they were facing down a human instead of a wolf. “No way. I’m not going anywhere near that—”
    â€œI would choose your next words very carefully if I were you,” said Malcolm. “Nothing inside is going to bite you. Yet. But I can’t guarantee my pack won’t get hungry.”
    Turning away, he climbed up the stairs, and Simon followed. If Darryl was the Alpha’s son, then why had he faked his death? To protect Simon from his own family? Malcolm might have been afraid of what the birds would do to them, but Simon knew the real danger wasn’t the flock. It was whatever lay inside the Arsenal.
    He couldn’t turn back now though, and he wouldn’t have even if he could. His mother was inside, and no matter what it took, he was going to find her.
    Malcolm led them into the entrance hall, and the wooden floor squeaked beneath their feet. Weak light filtered through the window above the door, and Simon examined a mural as they passed—falcons and wolves and rattlesnakes and bears and even a swarm of wasps, all united against an enemy Simon couldn’t see. Instead of leading them up the nearby winding staircase as Simon expected, Malcolm turned right and ducked through a door in the corner of the hall, guiding them down a narrow stairway that led deep below the Arsenal.
    As they descended the steps, Winter found Simon’s hand again and clutched it. His fingers started to ache, but he didn’t pull away. The other wolves must have stayed outside, because when the three of them reached the bottom, Simon noticed they were on their own. And standing at a dead end.
    â€œWhere—” Winter began, but Malcolm shushed her and flipped open a wooden panel in the wall, revealing a keypad. He punched in a code, and for a moment, nothing happened. Grumbling under his breath, Malcolm kicked the wall, and suddenly a grinding sound filled the air. A sliver of light appeared, slowly growing larger.
    Simon stared, his mouth agape. The hidden door slid open, revealing a cavern that housed a brick structure even larger than the