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 stone as the gates finally groaned open. And there she was. She was standing there, staring. The woman who made Ava’s stomach twist and spine straighten all at once. She cannot deal with it. Tall and imposing, Beta Kaelin strode through the arch like she owned the entire territory. Her skin was a rich bronze, catching the dull sunlight like burnished metal, and her long black hair was braided with silver rings that clinked softly as she moved. She wore armor that hugged her form too perfectly for it to be merely ceremonial, and her amber eyes gleamed with sharp amusement as she sized up Ashton. “Alpha Ashton,” she said with a smile that was anything but warm. “Still brooding. I see nothing’s changed.” Ashton gave her a tight nod. “Beta Kaelin.” Ava’s brow arched. So they knew each other well enough for casual jabs and that tone. Kaelin turned her gaze to Ava, and the heat of it was like sunlight focused through a lens. Sharp. Scrutinizing. “And you must be the witch,” Kaelin said. Ava met her stare. “Ava.” Kaelin’s smile widened, clearly waiting for her to say something more—until Ava added, softly but pointedly, “Luna-to-be.” That changed the air. Ashton tensed slightly beside her, and Kaelin tilted her head. “Oh? That’s news. Last I heard, Ashton wasn’t the… claiming type.” “He doesn’t have to be,” Ava replied coolly. “The bond claims us both.” Kaelin laughed—rich and mocking—and turned on her heel. “You’ll do just fine here.” The East Pack’s fortress was both beautiful and brutal. Ava drank in every detail: obsidian statues of their ancestors, enchanted lanterns flickering with blue fire, and protective runes carved into nearly every surface. The magic here was strong—structured, controlled, not the wild, intuitive force she carried. The courtyard buzzed with activity: young wolves sparring, elders whispering in corners, and guards who never stopped watching. Ava’s power prickled beneath her skin, reacting instinctively to the foreign energy around her. They entered the war hall—a circular chamber crowned with a dome of stained glass. The floor was polished dark wood, the walls lined with maps, weapon racks, and banners bearing the East Pack crest: a silver wolf with eyes like fire. And in the center stood Alpha Rhian. He was older than Ashton, but no less commanding. His silver-streaked hair was pulled back into a knot, and his eyes were piercing and strange—like moonlight through smoke. His presence quieted the room the moment they stepped inside. “Alpha Ashton,” he said with measured warmth. “And the witch we’ve heard so much about.” Ava inclined her head. “I’m here to help. But I don’t play games.” A faint smile tugged at Rhian’s lips. “Good. Because this is not a game.” Kaelin moved to his side, unfurling a large map across the war table. “The attacks began near the southern border,” she said, pointing to a stretch of forest. “Scorch marks. No bodies. No scent trails. Just… death.” Ava stepped closer, scanning the patterns of the reported attacks. Her fingers hovered over the parchment, a tingle running through her skin. “This isn’t random,” she said. “These aren’t ambushes. Someone—or something—is tracing a path. They’re following the ley lines.” Rhian raised an eyebrow. “Ley lines?” “Natural conduits of magical energy. Invisible to most, but not to those like me. If someone’s corrupted one, they could channel dark magic through the land itself.” Kaelin folded her arms. “So what? We’re being poisoned by the earth?” “No,” Ava said. “You’re being hunted through it.” A moment of silence passed. Then Rhian spoke, his voice quiet. “You’ll go to the site tomorrow. Dawn. Kaelin will lead you.” Ava nodded, but Kaelin’s eyes didn’t leave Ashton. “If anything happens to her, Alpha, I assume you’ll be… protective?” “I don’t assume anything,” Ashton said coldly. “I act.” Ava caught Kaelin’s smirk as they turned to leave. The tension between the three of them was palpable, pulsing like a second heartbeat in the room. When they reached the guest wing, Ava finally let her mask slip. “You slept with her,” she said, not a question. Ashton paused. “A long time ago.” “Is that why she can’t keep her eyes off you?” He faced her, jaw tight. “That has nothing to do with now.” “No?” Ava stepped closer, fury sparking under her skin. “Because I’m not going to be used as some pawn in a pissing contest between you and your ex.” “You’re not a pawn,” he said, voice suddenly rough. “You’re the reason I’m even here.” “Then start acting like it.” A beat of silence. And then—softly— “I see you, Ava. I always have. But the second I claim you, I can’t undo it.” “And you’re still afraid of what that means,” she whispered. He didn’t deny it. He just walked away.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 first light of dawn stretched over the horizon, casting an eerie, pale glow on the dark forest. The air was thick with mist, and the ever-present scent of pine and earth seemed to carry something far darker beneath it—a whisper, a pull, as though the land itself was aware of their presence. Ava stood at the edge of the clearing, her hand lightly grazing the surface of the stone altar that sat there, weathered by centuries but still humming with latent energy. This place was old—too old for comfort. There were no signs of life in the area, but the weight of the air felt oppressive, like the ground was holding its breath. She glanced at Ashton, who had been unusually quiet since they’d left the East Pack’s stronghold. His gaze was locked on the horizon, his jaw tight. Tension crackled between them, like the calm before a storm. Ava couldn’t help but feel a twinge of frustration. She could sense that Ashton was trying to push her away again, his internal walls as high
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
Ava didn’t sleep. She lay awake long after Ashton left, staring at the low ceiling of her cramped room, still feeling the echo of his touch on her skin, his breath on her neck. Her body burned for him, but it was the ache in her heart that kept her from resting. He wanted her. That much was obvious. But he didn’t want the bond. And that, somehow, hurt worse than any rejection she’d ever known. By the time dawn broke, a cold silver light spilled through the tiny window above her bed. Ava rose slowly, pulling on her cloak and lacing her boots with fingers that still trembled. Today, she needed focus. Control. There was no room for vulnerability—not when she had to face him again. The Council had summoned them. Her and Ashton. Together. She made her way out of the packhouse and into the surrounding forest. The trees welcomed her like old friends, their branches creaking softly in the wind. Deep in the woods, past the training fields and patrol rout
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