An Alpha's Dilemma

The first time Ava Oakley felt the mark burn, she was alone. The Moon hung low above the forest canopy, spilling silver light through the twisted branches like strands of fate. Ava stood still beneath it, her breath ghosting in the cold air, hand pressed against her wrist where the skin pulsed with warmth. It had started again—just like it always did when he was near. Alpha Ashton Hawk. She didn’t need to see him to know he was close. The bond told her. It throbbed, alive and silent, just beneath her skin. Her magic stirred in response, restless, aching, demanding something she could never fully give. Not while he continued to deny her. She’d tried to dull the connection with meditation, herbs, distance. Nothing worked. Even now, his presence pricked at her senses like static before a storm. Ava swallowed the lump in her throat and turned back toward the packhouse. Her boots crunched across the frosted ground, the sounds swallowed by the heavy stillness of the

The towering gates of the East Pack rose from the mist like ancient sentinels—blackstone laced with silver veins, pulsing faintly with enchantments meant to detect outsiders, and repel magic. The energy in the air shifted as Ava and Ashton approached, thick and oppressive like a brewing super storm. Ava tightened the hood over her head, the coarse wool brushing against the mark on her wrist. It throbbed, a soft pulse beneath her skin, like it always did when Ashton was near. The tension between them since the attack in the forest had not eased. If anything, it had sharpened. So sharpened enough. The guards stationed at the gate didn’t move at first. They just watched with sharp, calculating eyes—wolf-born, trained not just to protect but to judge. Ashton swung down from his horse with the elegance of an Alpha. His expression was cool, composed, but Ava could see the set of his shoulders: alert. Ready for anything. Ava followed suit, her boots crunching lightly on frost-covered

The journey back to the East Pack was long and silent. The shadow wolf’s attack still lingered in the air like a dark omen. Ava couldn’t shake the feeling that it had only been the beginning of something much larger. As the path wound through the forest, her mind raced with thoughts of the ley lines—the ancient magical veins that connected the earth itself. They had always been stable, predictable… until now. She had spent years learning their intricacies, the subtle ways in which they could be manipulated. But this? This was something different—something far darker than anything she had ever encountered. By the time they reached the East Pack’s fortress again, the first traces of nightfall were beginning to creep across the sky. Ava’s body was weary, but her mind was wide awake, consumed by questions that had no easy answers. Inside the war hall, the maps of their territory had been spread across the long wooden table, flickering candlelight casting long shadows on th

The forest was quieter than usual at dawn, as if the world itself held its breath in anticipation. Frost clung to the undergrowth, catching the pale sunlight in ghostly glimmers as the search party made their way through the eastern ridge. Every sound seemed magnified—the crunch of boots, the soft rustle of cloaks, the distant call of a raven. Ava walked near the front, eyes half-lidded, sensing the ley lines that rippled faintly beneath the soil.Her magic hummed low, like a song remembered from childhood—fragmented and haunting. She reached out with her senses, letting the energy of the earth guide her steps. It was faint here—scarred, broken, like nerves burned raw. Something had poisoned this part of the forest, not just magically but spiritually. Even the animals were absent, their usual signs of life missing, as if they'd fled before something ancient and wrong.Behind her, Ashton moved with silent precision. His presence was a comfort she hated needing. Every time he came close

The dawn was thin and pale, spilling cold light over the shattered stones of the Temple of Origin. Outside, the sky was washed in quiet pinks and grays as the first birds tentatively began their hesitant calls. The air, still heavy with the lingering scent of magic and scorched earth, whispered of battles won but wars far from finished.Ava stood at the temple's entrance, her breath forming small clouds in the chill morning. Her hands trembled slightly—not from fear or exhaustion, but from the magnitude of what had just transpired. She had faced Malrik—the Shadowbinder himself—and though she'd forced him back, his presence still echoed like a thunderclap in her mind.Behind her, the rest of the group stirred, rubbing tired eyes, stretching aching muscles, and tending to minor wounds. Ashton's wolf form receded as he pulled his cloak tighter, the lines of exhaustion visible beneath his sharp features. Kaelin checked her blade with meticulous care, the steel still stained faintly with t