BETRAYED, REBORN, RETURNED: THE RISE OF THE FEMALE ALPHA

The island smelled of salt and wet mud. Valkira stood at the edge of the muddy training ground, her heavy leather boots sinking into the dark dirt. Morning fog crept over the sharp mountain peaks behind her, but she didn't move a muscle.

Before her, the packs were training. Sixty fierce shape shifters fought in aggressive pairs across the dirt. These were rogues, notorious killers from different species across the mainland. A year ago, they were nothing but violent mess. Valkira had beaten them into shape. Now, they move together like one disciplined machine.

Valkira watched a young wolf named Dren take a hard hit to his ribs. He stumbled backward into the mud, coughing up dark blood. Dren slowly wiped his mouth, got back on his feet, bared his fangs, and attacked again.

"That's enough," Rog growled from the sideline. The huge bear shifter’s arms were still half-shifted into thick fur and claws. "The boy is done for the day."

"He is not done," Chris, her Beta, shot back, his voice cutting through the wind like ice. "He still breathes."

Dren looked up through his messy hair, blood on his chin. "I am not done, Alpha."

"Good," Valkira said. "Finish the fight right now."

Dren charged with a wild roar. His fist hit the other wolf's jaw with a loud crack, dropping his opponent instantly into the mud.

That was the absolute rule on Shatter Ash island. You fall, you rise, and you fight until someone stops moving.

Valkira slowly flexed her right hand. Five years ago, a witch had dripped Valkira's blood into a stone ritual bowl, watching it glow a bright purple: "Your bloodline is rare, girl,” the witch had said. “True prodigy blood. But noble blood means absolutely nothing if your heart is weak." 

Then, the witch spent three painful years teaching Valkira exactly how to fight and survive.

Valkira looked past the muddy field to the harbor below. Three warships and a single  fishing boat sat securely in the gray water. The pack had built those ships from abandoned fishing boats, using heavy wood and iron stolen from mainland shipping lanes. She had been planning her return to the werewolf mainland for months.

Suddenly, a mind-link connection spiked in her head. It was Chris, her trusted Beta.

"Alpha," Chris’s voice echoed in her mind. His tone was heavy, and it sounded wrong.

"Report."

"I was on the mainland for three days," Chris stated. "I had to see for myself before I brought the truth to you."

Valkira turned her back on the training ground and walked toward the edge of the cliff. The freezing wind bit her face. "Speak."

"Your father is dead, Alpha."

The words hit her chest like a blade. She remembered her father, Hertos, the proud Alpha of the great Crescent Pack, who had carried her on his broad shoulders when she was just a pup. Her throat closed up tight.

"How did he die?"

"Poison," Chris replied bluntly. "He took his own life."

Valkira stopped walking. "Why?"

"Debt, Alpha. The war five years ago completely ruined the Crescent Pack's treasury. The victorious packs demanded immediate payment. Your father sold his ancestral lands, his weapons, and his honor. In the end, he still couldn't pay it all. So, he ended his own life."

Valkira closed her eyes. "And my mother? Where is Luna Helen?"

Chris paused for a long second.

"She got sick from grief right after his suicide. The victors refused her medical treatment, shelter or food. They drove her out of the territory and forced her into the Forbidden Forest."

The Forbidden Forest was a death wish. No pack ever entered those woods, and absolutely no one ever came out alive. Valkira curled her hands into shaking fists.

"Chris," her voice was flat. "Is there anything else?"

Chris usually reported things quickly, but this time, his mind went completely silent for several seconds. “It is about your daughter. Yana."

The name hit her stomach even harder than her father's death. Her chest caved in. "What about Yana? Tell me."

"I found her. She is currently held inside a private hospital on the mainland, a front facility dealing secretly in organ trafficking and fake medicine. It's run by humans, but they have werewolf guards.”

"My daughter is alive?"

"She was seen inside three days ago," Chris confirmed. "She's small, and she has your silver eyes. They keep her locked in a basement under heavy guard. I couldn't get her out alone."

"Who leads those werewolf guards, Chris?"

"Alpha Lucas."

The name burned through Valkira’s veins like fire. She remembered his cold face smiling down at her as he threw her body into the dark ocean.

"Of course it is him," Valkira said, her hands shaking in pure rage.

Valkira remembered the night Yana was conceived. The baby was a secret, the result of a one-night stand during her coming-of-age ritual eighteen months prior. Valkira had been drunk and discovered the stranger was her fated mate. However, he  completely disappeared afterward, leaving her no choice but to keep her out-of-wedlock pregnancy a secret.

Lucas had courted her aggressively before she met with the stranger.

 "I will love this child like my own flesh and blood," he had told her, kneeling before her in the royal gardens. "I will protect her from the court gossip. I will give her my family name."

She had stupidly believed his lies. Lucas had told her Yana was frail when she was born, and had personally volunteered to take her to a specialized healer. He never brought her back. Three weeks later, a massive war broke out without warning during her mating ceremony to Lucas. She still remembered  the taste of the poison Lucas had put in her drink, his gloating smile on his face as he betrayed her and her family.

The witch had found her washed up on the rocky shore hours later, half-dead.

"Your chosen mate sold your pack out," the witch had told her plainly. "You have two choices: die slowly in the dirt, or become something entirely new."

Valkira chose to become something new.

She trained for three brutal years. The old witch broke every bone in her body and rebuilt her into a weapon. When she was finally ready, the witch sent her to this remote rogue island to rule. Valkira had subdued the entire island in less than three months, shattering the pride and bones of any rogue who dared challenge her.

Now, they were her pack.

Valkira opened her eyes. The morning fog had fully cleared. She turned on her heel and marched straight back to the training ground.

The sixty shifters stopped fighting instantly. They saw the  look in her eyes and knew exactly what it meant. Valkira climbed onto the wooden platform built at the center of the camp. Within seconds, the entire rogue force gathered around the center.

"I leave the island tonight,” Valkira announced, her voice carrying clearly over the loud ocean wind.

Dren stepped forward. ”Alpha. Where are you sailing?"

"The mainland."

The shifters murmured to each other. Rog stepped forward.

 "For what purpose, Alpha?"

Valkira slowly drew her hunting knife from its sheath. The steel caught the sunlight. "For my daughter," Valkira said, letting the word hang in the air. "For my father. For my mother. For vengeance."

The pack erupted into a massive roar. Wolves howled, and bears slammed their fists against their chests, and wildcats screeched. Valkira did not smile. She had not smiled once in five long years.

She raised a hand, silencing them. "The pack stays. This fight is mine alone.”

Chris stepped right into her path, his jaw tight. "No, it's not."

Valkira narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you challenging me, Chris?"

"I'm your Beta," Chris said, his voice hard. "You want revenge, I'm with you all the way.”

Valkira met his stubborn gaze and gave a single nod. "Fine.”

She turned to the huge bear shifter. "Rog, the island is yours while I'm gone. Keep the pack sharp. Sarke, you back him up. Hold this territory until I return."

"Yes, Alpha," Rog growled, bowing his head.

She jumped down from the stage. The crowd of rogue shifters parted before her body like water as she walked toward the harbor.

Valkira bypassed the large warships and walked straight to the small boat tied at the end of the dock. 

Chris stepped up beside her, dropping a heavy leather gear bag onto the wood. It held all the weapons and medicine they would need.

"The boat is ready, Alpha," Chris reported. 

"Good."

Valkira pulled her knife from her belt one more time. She looked at her reflection in her polished knife. She had deep scars across her face. She was no longer the soft princess Lucas had betrayed.

She sheathed the blade with a click.

"Lucas," Valkira whispered. "I am coming for you."