LOGINIf someone wanted her and had been bold enough to try breaking in the she couldn't afford to be blind anymore. She would not sit quietly, and while her parents locked her in a gilded cage and relied on strangers from the Blackthorn pack to save her.
Because if they came once then there's a possibility they could come again. And next time, she might not wake up safely. She was going to uncover the truth, but first of all, she needed to know if the guards stationed below her window had seen anything on that night. And there was one guatd who would tell her the truth. Simon, the youngest and the only guard who had ever looked at her with honesty instead of fear and duty. She straightened her dress. Today, she was determined to get the answers she needed. The hallways were too quiet. Morning light usually filled this part of the mansion with warmth. But today, the light felt dimmer swallowed by a strange heaviness in the air. She walked purposefully toward the back courtyard where the guards were usually stationed and trained. She needed to find Simon before her parents realised she wasn't in her room resting. Every step she took carried her closer to the dangers and truth they had worked so hard to hide. Her pulse quickened, a mixture of fear and determination. But then she heard a soft sound, like a breath. She froze. The corridor was empty, completely empty, but something felt wrong. Her instincts screamed danger, but she swallowed hard and continued forward, feet lighter on the ground, movements slower and the shadows deeper. She turned the corner and stopped. Someone stood at the far end of the hallway, a figure, still, mysterious and half consumed by shadow. Isabella couldn't make out the face of the figure, only the outline of a person . A masculine figure. Quite tall and lean, not bulky. Her heartbeat raced. The individual was neither a guard nor a servant because he wasn't wearing the family crest. Just dark robes that blended into the darkness. And he was standing exactly where she was supposed to pass. She took one cautious step forward, and the figure stepped forward, too. With a slow and deliberate step out of the shadow. Her blood ran cold. His face was barely visible under the cloak he was wearing, and his posture wasn't submissive like that of a worker or messenger. It wasn't confident like an envoy. It was watchful and predatory, like one staring at its prey. The stranger tilted his head slightly and then spoke. "You shouldn't be here," The voice was low and smooth. It echoed slightly under the hood, dripping with calmness like someone carefully masking their real voice. She swallowed the lump in her throat and lifted her chin. "Who are you?" "No one you need to or must know now," the figure replied gently. "But you need to return back to your room." Her lungs tightened. Turn back? Why?How did this stranger know where she was heading to in the first place? She stepped back defensively. "I'm going to the training courtyard. I have every right to be here."That isn't where you're heading to. " The stranger inched closer. " You're going to speak to someone you shouldn't speak to." Panic rose down her spine . He knew. "How... how would you know that?" she whispered . The stranger didn't answer. Instead, he lifted a gloved hand slowly as if calming a frightened child. " Listen carefully, too much curiosity is dangerous in this house. " She clenched her fists. " It's my house. " The stranger gave the slightest tilt of his head. "Then you should be the first to know that not everything enters a home is invited. " Her breathing stopped. Invited? What did that even mean? She forced her voice to study. "Move, I need to go. " "No," he replied firmly, final. " You can not go to the courtyard." the stranger said softly ." Not today, not now." Did he know she was going to Simon to ask about the incident? She stepped sideways, testing the distance . The stranger mirrored her perfectly, blocking the path without seeming to move quickly at all. Her heart hammered against her chest. She took a deep breath, summoning every ounce of courage she had. "What do you want from me?" The stranger lowered their chin slightly, shadows hiding his eyes. " To warn you." "Warn me about...what?" she replied A long silence passed, and the figure finally spoke. " Don't ask questions about the night at your window. " Her breath hitched, shocked. She stumbled backwards a bit. "How do you know about that?" The stranger stepped forward again, closing the distance she tried to create. "Because there are things that move around you silently. Things you are not meant to see. Things that care about your alliances or heirs. " This wasn't just a warning. It was a threat disguised in a calm and careful speech. She stared at him, breath trembling. "I deserve to know the truth. " "Yes, you do, " he said softly. " But not now yet. " Anger suddenly surged, cutting through the fear choking her. She had been pushed around for months , kept in the dark, and manipulated. She took a step forward with her chin raised. "You don't decide what I should and should not know. " The figure finally reacted by straightening his body fully. His outline grew sharper. " You're brave," he murmured. " Good because you'll need that. " Her voice trembled despite her efforts to keep it calm. "Are you working with my parents? Were they the ones who sent you to stop me? " "No," the figure replied "Then who are you with?" The stranger didn't answer. Instead, he leaned slightly forward. Not close enough to touch her but close enough that she felt the coldness of his presence.The alarm didn’t sound. Rex had ordered long ago that not every threat should be met with panic. Instead, the message spread the way serious news always did in Blackthorn. Quietly, quickly, and with purpose. By the time Isabella stepped out of the training clearing with Ash beside her, warriors were already moving across the compound. Armor straps tightened. Weapons checked. Patrol leaders gathered their units. The air had changed. Moments ago the morning had felt calm. Now it felt sharp. Focused. Danger was coming. And everyone knew it. Inside the strategy hall, Rex stood at the center of the long table. He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t pace. He simply watched the map spread before him while the scout repeated his report. “Alpha Thane and roughly thirty warriors crossed the eastern ridge about an hour ago,” the scout said. “They’re moving slowly.” Kaelen leaned against the table beside Rex, arms crossed. “Thirty isn’t an attack force.” “No,” Rex agreed. His voi
The morning at Blackthorn came quietly. For once, there were no raised voices in the courtyard. No messengers riding in with bad news. No alarms echoing through the tall pines surrounding the pack lands. Just wind. It moved through the trees like a soft whisper, rustling the leaves and brushing against the stone walls of the packhouse. Inside one of the upper rooms, Isabella sat by the window with her knees drawn to her chest. She had been awake for hours. Sleep had been impossible after the previous night. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw flashes of it again, Alpha Thane’s cold smile, the tension between him and Kaelen, the feeling of being caught between forces she didn’t fully understand. She exhaled slowly. Below the window, pack members moved through their morning routines. Warriors sparred in the training ring, their movements sharp and controlled. A group of younger wolves ran laps along the outer path. Life went on. And yet everything felt like it was hanging
The days that followed were quieter than anyone expected. Not peaceful, Blackthorn had learned not to trust peace too easily but steadier. Patrols moved in careful rotations. Scouts watched the northern ridge constantly. The sky remained whole. And the rifts did not return. But the feeling of being watched never quite left. Isabella sat on the wide stone steps outside the stronghold library, a book resting open on her lap. She wasn’t reading it. The words blurred together every time she tried to focus. Her attention kept drifting outward—to the forest, the air, the faint threads of energy she could now feel moving through the land. It had been three days since the Warden arrived. Three days since she learned how to nudge the balance lines. Three days since the sky had split. The world hadn’t ended. But something had changed. She felt it every time she closed her eyes. “Thinking again.” Ash dropped onto the step beside her with a soft thud, holding a small apple he had cl
Morning settled slowly over Blackthorn. Sunlight filtered through the tall pine trees surrounding the stronghold, casting long golden lines across the training grounds. Wolves moved through their usual routines—sparring, running patrols, sharpening blades but the tension from the previous days had softened. Not gone. Just… managed. Isabella stood near the edge of the field, arms folded loosely as she watched two younger wolves practicing hand-to-hand combat. They were laughing. Actually laughing. For a moment she let herself focus on that instead of cosmic Wardens, rifts in the sky, or the weight of whatever the Axis was becoming inside her. “Enjoying the show?” She turned. Ash approached with two cups of steaming tea. He handed one to her without asking. “You look like someone trying to remember what normal feels like,” he added. She took the cup, grateful for the warmth. “Does it show that clearly?” Ash smiled faintly. “Only to people who’ve done the same thing.” She s
The sky did not split again. It only… shimmered. Like a scar still deciding whether it wanted to reopen. By nightfall, the rift had sealed completely. No more tremors. No more tearing light. The air still felt different—charged, thinner somehow—but calm had returned to Blackthorn territory. A deceptive calm. The Warden had not left. He stood now at the northern tower balcony, unmoving, silver eyes fixed on the horizon. He had not eaten. Had not slept. Had not spoken since his warning. “They’re calculating,” Ash murmured quietly as he joined Rex along the outer wall. “If he’s telling the truth.” Rex didn’t look away from the training grounds below where warriors continued drills long after sunset. “He’s telling the truth.” “You trust him?” “No.” Ash huffed softly. “Comforting.” Rex finally turned, voice level. “But I believe him.” Because Isabella believed him. And that mattered. Inside the stronghold, the atmosphere was different too. Less panic. More awar
Morning came too quickly. Blackthorn didn’t wake gently anymore. There was no slow stirring, no relaxed patrol changes, no laughter drifting from the kitchens. Every movement carried urgency now. Wolves trained harder. Guards doubled their routes. Messengers ran instead of walked. Thirty days had turned time into something sharp. Isabella stood on the balcony outside Rex’s chambers, watching fog roll through the trees below. The forest looked peaceful from here. Green, endless and untouched. It felt like a lie. Behind her, boots sounded softly against stone. “You haven’t slept,” Rex said. She didn’t turn. “You haven’t either.” A pause. Fair. He joined her at the railing, arms resting beside hers but not touching. The quiet between them wasn’t uncomfortable anymore. It felt… shared. “What’s first?” he asked. She exhaled slowly. “You said the Marsh packs remember the last correction.” Rex nodded. “Crescent Marsh. Smaller territory. Older traditions. They don’t trust Alphas







