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2026-04-14 00:50:38
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ALPHAS of the PEAK 93
"Don’t touch me unless you want to find out how fast a human heart stops beating."The guard’s hand froze inches from my shoulder. He smelled of sweat and cheap tobacco, but beneath that was the sharp, metallic tang of fear—bitter copper. I didn't look at him. I looked at the iron door of the north tower, the wood splintering under the pressure of a force I couldn't yet name. The blue light from the obsidian key was no longer a glow; it was a pulse, a rhythmic thrumming that matched the heavy beat in my marrow."Preston said no one goes in," the guard said. His voice cracked, a jagged sound in the quiet of the hallway. He didn't stand his ground. He shifted his weight, his eyes darting to the floor—a low-ranking wolf baring his throat without even realizing it."Preston is a placeholder," I said.I moved. I didn't run; I transitioned from one point to the other with a speed that made the air whistle. I grabbed the guard’s wrist and twisted. The snap of the bone was a clean, dry sound,
ALPHAS of the PEAK 92
"Put the key on the table, Madeline, before you lose the hand that's holding it."Preston Hale stood in the center of the Great Hall, his feet planted wide on the rug where Harrison used to stand. He smelled of heavy pine and wet iron—a sharp, cold scent that lacked any of the woodsmoke warmth I had lived for. He wore the Council’s silver pin on his lapel, the crescent moon catching the dim light from the dying fire."It isn't yours to ask for," I said.My voice sounded like dry bone scraping on stone. I hadn't washed since the canyon. The dust of my father’s grave was a grey mask on my skin, and the grit under my fingernails was a permanent reminder of the landslide. I clutched the obsidian key inside my tunic, the sharp edges biting into my palm. It was the only thing that felt real."I am the Alpha of this territory by decree of the Twelve," Preston said. He took a step forward, his boots heavy on the floorboards. "Harrison is moon-sick. He’s a danger to the bloodline. And you? You
ALPHAS of the PEAK 91
"You’re walking into a slaughter, Harrison, and you’re taking half the territory with you."I slammed my palms onto the stone map table in the war room. The vibration rattled the loose cartridges of a sidearm resting near the edge. Harrison didn't look up from the canyon topography. He smelled of woodsmoke, heated copper, and a sharp, jagged edge of desperation."He’s my father, Madeline," Harrison said. He traced a finger along the narrow pass of the Whispering Canyons. "The Council’s heralds confirmed the location. Adrian Whitlock is holding Richard in the basin. If I don't move now, they’ll have his head on a pike by sunrise.""The Council’s heralds are liars who smell of rotted lilies," I said. I stepped around the table, my boots clicking against the floorboards. I grabbed his arm, feeling the braided steel of his muscles beneath his leather jacket. "Adrian is a butcher. He doesn't leave trails unless he wants them followed. This isn't a rescue. It’s a culling."Harrison pulled a
ALPHAS of the PEAK 90
"You shouldn't have brought that stench back into this house, Madeline."Harrison stood in the center of the Great Hall, his boots crunching on the glass shards from the shattered transom. The scent of woodsmoke and heated copper was jagged now, clashing with the lingering frost on my skin. He didn't move to touch me. He paced the length of the rug, his muscles corded under his shirt like thick cables. The frequency in the room was a low, discordant thrum that vibrated in my teeth."The Shadow-Pack didn't give me a choice," I said.I dropped the leather satchel onto the heavy oak table. It landed with a wet thud. The gold heart inside was cooling, but it still radiated a faint, rhythmic heat that made the air shimmer. I wiped a streak of frozen stag's blood from my cheek, my fingers trembling. The grit under my fingernails scraped against my skin."They called you High Queen," Harrison said. He stopped his pacing and turned, his amber eyes glowing with a sharp, predatory light. "The s
ALPHAS of the PEAK 89
"Drop the knife, Madeline, or the mountain will be the only thing that remembers you."Vivienne Cruz didn't turn around to see if I followed. She walked into the shimmering heat of the Maw, her silk dress rippling like a secondary skin. The air in the cavern tasted of sulfur and ancient, unwashed fur. It wasn't a cave; it was a throat. The stone walls were slick with a moisture that smelled of ozone and old blood. I gripped the gold scroll against my ribs, the metal humming a low, jagged frequency that vibrated through my teeth."I’m not dropping anything," I said.My voice bounced off the jagged stalactites. I stepped over a pile of bleached bones—small things, foxes or pups. A crackle of white fire erupted from a fissure in the floor, the heat singeing the hair on my forearms. I didn't flinch. The wolf in my marrow was silent, pinned down by the sheer weight of the mountain's power."The Forbidden Tundra," Vivienne said, gesturing to a swirling vortex of white mist at the back of th
ALPHAS of the PEAK 88
"Is it the poison or your conscience making you look so pale, Serena?"I leaned against the stone doorframe of the infirmary, my ribcage a cage of fire. The scent of jasmine still clung to the back of my throat, but it was the bitter almond of the wolfsbane that defined the air. Serena Whitlock didn't turn around. She was busy grinding herbs into a stone mortar, the rhythmic scritch-scritch of the pestle the only sound in the room. She smelled of sterile gauze and dried lavender. A mask for the rot."You should be dead," Serena said. She didn't look up from her work. A stray strand of hair escaped her clinical bun, damp with the humidity of the room. "My father doesn't usually miss.""He sent Nadia to finish it," I said. I stepped into the room, my legs feeling like they were made of cooling glass. I reached for a glass vial on the table, my fingers brushing against a stained tunic draped over the chair. The fabric was stiff with old, brown blood. "She failed too."Serena’s hand falte
ALPHAS of the PEAK 58
Harrison perked up, a predatory glint in his gaze. "Hunt for some company?""That depends," I teased, leaning into his radiating heat once more. "Can you vow on your lineage to behave your wolf?""Perhaps," he murmured, dipping his muzzle to graze my shoulder with his teeth. "But your scent tells m
ALPHAS of the PEAK 57
"Indeed, I do." A fractured, genuine curve touched his mouth. "More than the moon itself."Then his lips ghosted against mine in a caress so tentative it felt as if he braced for my claws to strike. I never imagined a cycle where Harrison Cole feared a rejection, especially mine, yet the vulnerabil
ALPHAS of the PEAK 56
Clearly, my internal barriers weren't as impenetrable as I’d imagined, judging by the sharp, tracking glance Harrison threw my way the moment I claimed one of the vacant fur-lined armchairs."Is your spirit at peace?" he questioned, his head tilting with predatory grace as a smile touched his lips.
ALPHAS of the PEAK 55
“A revel?” I questioned, my voice tight. “I wasn’t scented of any gathering for this moonrise.”Grant’s head snapped out from a stone archway to my right, his eyes flashing. “Little wolf, we are on the Silver Coast,” he drawled, rolling his shoulders as he snared my wrists and hauled me into the de
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