MasukArtemis's POVThe temperature in the arena plummeted so fast that my breath hitched, turning to white mist in the air. One moment I was casually watching the training rotation, and the next, the bright midday sun was choked out as the entire valley plunged into pitch-black darkness.Terrified gasps and shouting erupted from every corner of the gallery.Down below, the shadows were exploding outward from Lucian in a violent, terrifying, and utterly uncontrolled storm of dark mass. It was exactly like the training accident that had occurred weeks ago, but this was exponentially worse. The darkness didn't just pool around his feet; it raged."Lucian!" His name tore from my throat before I could stop it, but the sound was swallowed by the roaring wind generated by his power.Chaos descended upon the training grounds. The darkness swallowed the stone floor and the sand pits like a living, predatory ocean. Experienced warriors stumbled backward in panic, their nocturnal vision useless again
Lucian's POVThe training arena was an assault on the senses, filled with a chaotic symphony that I usually had no trouble tuning out. Dozens of young Lycan warriors occupied the massive stone grounds, their bodies moving in blurred, predatory sequences as they sparred in tightly monitored groups. The air was thick with the scent of kicked-up dust, sweat, and iron. Steel clashed against steel with deafening cracks, punctuated by the booming commands of instructors and the heavy thuds of bodies hitting the dirt. Normally, this display of raw power was routine to me, a familiar backdrop to my daily responsibilities.Today, however, my focus refused to lock onto the training drills. Instead, my gaze kept drifting toward the western boundary of the courtyard.Towards her, over and over.Selena stood near the edge of the chalk lines, paired with a massive trainee who towered over her. Unlike every other highborn heir present, she possessed no wolf. She had no Lycan blood running through
Cassian's POVMy father had lied.The realization wasn’t exactly a grand epiphany. I’d known Alpha Darius long enough to recognize the subtle shift in his posture, the calculated shadow in his eyes whenever he was withholding information. But lately, a darker, more suffocating suspicion had taken root: I was beginning to think he’d been lying to me my entire life.I stared at the heavy parchment spread across my desk. It had arrived that morning, sealed with the crisp, unmistakable wax crest of my home pack. On the surface, the contents were aggressively ordinary. Father wrote of shifting pack borders, tedious political maneuvers, trade agreements, and training quotas — the usual bureaucratic nonsense he loved pretending was the center of the universe.Yet, it was what he didn't write that made the skin on the back of my neck prickle.Once again, there was no mention of my mother.I leaned back in my chair, frustration simmering like a low-grade fever beneath my skin. For years, I ha
Artemis's POVThe dreams were evolving. I couldn't decide if that was a blessing or a curse.Lately, the abstraction had bled into a terrifying reality. They didn't feel like dreams anymore. They felt like memories, which was entirely impossible, because the places I saw hadn't existed for centuries.I woke with a sharp, ragged inhale, my pulse hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. Moonlight streamed through my chamber windows, casting stark, cold shadows across the floor. Sweat dampened my skin despite the chill in the room.I tried to breathe through the panic, to convince myself that it was just a trick of an overactive imagination. But the details refused to fade. They remained crisp, precise, and hauntingly tangible. I could still perfectly picture the stone towers piercing a silver sky, the massive temples carved from moon-white marble, and the women in flowing robes whose eyes glowed with a fierce, crescent luminescence.And then, there was the voice. It was always th
Lucian's POVMy shadows had officially mutinied.There was simply no other explanation. For nearly twelve years, they had been my loyal extensions, listening to my silent commands, cloaking my movements, and keeping the rest of the world at a safe, intimidated distance. They were mine.Now? Now they apparently answered to Selena just as much.I leaned against the trunk of an ancient oak tree in the royal gardens, my gaze fixed entirely on the small ribbon of sentient darkness currently curled around her left wrist.The little traitor shifted, weaving between her fingers like a living silk bracelet, looking disgustingly content. I was starting to take it personally."You know, staring is considered rude," Selena said, her voice laced with amusement. She didn't even look up from the heavy, leather-bound book resting on her lap."Most people don't wear my shadows as accessories," I countered, crossing my arms.That finally earned me a full grin. She lifted her wrist, tilting it toward t
Selena's POVThere were many strange things about living in the Lycan Palace. The fact that I regularly ate breakfast with the most powerful family on the continent was strange. The fact that Artemis had once threatened to launch Cassian off a balcony because he called her "Moonbeam" was strange. The fact that Lucian could step out of shadows as if they were doorways was very strange.Unfortunately, I was beginning to suspect his shadows themselves might be even stranger. Because, once again, they were following me. I stopped walking. The corridor fell silent, and nothing moved, but I knew they were there, keeping their distance but watching me nonetheless. I narrowed my eyes. "Come out."Nothing happened. A passing servant looked at me oddly, so I smiled awkwardly until they hurried away. Talking to empty hallways probably looked concerning to them. I waited another moment, then pointed at a nearby suit of armor. "I can see you."A tiny patch of darkness immediately darted behind
Alara’s POVThe Midnight Packhouse was an architecturally stark contrast to the cold, echoing white marble of the Lycan palace halls I’d fled. This place was warm, built entirely of dark cedar and heavy stone, humming with an undercurrent of contained, ancient life but quiet enough that the silence
Alara’s POVA full week had passed since the terrifying incident — seven long days of strained breaths, cautious touches, and an ever-present, unspoken fear lodged like a jagged needle beneath my skin. The diplomatic week had finally ended two days ago, the visiting Alphas and Lunas dispersing back
Alara’s POVThe Midnight Pack woke slowly each morning, not with the harsh, immediate clang of palace bells or the roar of military drills, but like a vast, ancient forest stretching its limbs. I learned this rhythm from the window of my new room — cedar-framed, soft-lit by the muted dawn. Here, li
Alara’s POVThe palace woke before the sun. Today was different. Despite the ongoing threats from corrupted rogues, it was decided that no palace events would be postponed to portray the image of stability of the crown.Footsteps echoed through marbled corridors, fabrics swished, voices rose and fel







