LOGINThe Forest Bunker HuntDominic’s POVThe forest changed as we descended.It wasn’t sudden. No dramatic shift that announced itself outright. It happened slowly, insidiously, the way rot spreads beneath bark before the tree ever falls. The deeper we pushed into the territory, the older the land became. Trees thickened and twisted, their trunks scarred by time and lightning, their branches knotted together so tightly they blotted out what little daylight remained. Roots clawed their way out of the soil like exposed ribs, forcing us to slow, to pick our steps carefully. Moss swallowed stone and bone alike, softening everything it touched—except the air.The air was wrong.At first, it was subtle. A faint sterility beneath the loam and pine. Then it sharpened, growing colder, thinner, carrying an edge that had nothing to do with winter. No animal musk. No wolf scent. No living thing lingered here.Instead—metal. Antiseptic. Something faintly electric.My Alpha instincts bristled, h
Dawn arrived like it was afraid of us. It crept across the pack lands in thin, uncertain bands of pale gold, filtering through the canopy in fractured beams that never quite reached the ground. The forest didn’t welcome the light. It endured it. Shadows clung stubbornly to roots and hollows, coiled tight around tree trunks, reluctant to loosen their grip. Predators understood that kind of quiet. So did I. The land was awake—but it wasn’t calm. It was holding its breath. So were we. Samantha sat near the fire pit where she’d been since the sky first began to pale, knees drawn tight to her chest, shoulders locked in a tension that bordered on painful just to look at. She hadn’t slept. Not even drifted. Her body was still, but her energy never stopped moving—low, restless, scraping at the air like a blade dragged too slowly across stone. Her witch was fully awake now. Not raging. Not exploding. Waiting. The flames reflected in her eyes, turning the gold feral, molten. There was
Aftermath — The Silence That Screams The night swallowed the transport whole. One second it was there—engines screaming, shields flaring, Ava’s presence flickering like a dying star in Dominic’s chest—and the next it vanished into the clouds, swallowed by distance and magic and Elder Lee’s careful planning. The sky closed. Silence rushed in to replace the roar. Not peace. Never peace. Just the hollow, echoing absence of something stolen. Dominic stood frozen at the edge of the ruined prison grounds, chest heaving, fists clenched so tightly his claws bit into his palms. Shadows coiled instinctively around him, drawn tight like armor, like the only thing holding him upright. Gone. Again. Beside him, Samantha made a sound that didn’t belong to any language. It tore out of her chest raw and broken, a keening wail that vibrated through bone and earth alike. Her knees hit the ground hard enough to crack the stone beneath her, and the world answered—the air bowing, the shadows shr
Third person POV The Hunt Through Ruin The prison did not collapse all at once. It agonized. Stone screamed as it tore itself apart, steel shrieked as it warped and buckled, and the earth beneath Dominic’s feet shuddered like a wounded animal trying to crawl away from its own death. Every corridor they passed through felt less like architecture and more like the inside of something dying—veins rupturing, bones splintering, the air thick with the coppery taste of fear and ozone. Dominic ran. He didn’t look back. He didn’t slow. His lungs burned, each breath scraping raw through dust-choked air, but pain had become irrelevant. The Alpha had stripped the world down to motion and intent—forward, faster, now. His boots pounded against fractured concrete slick with blood and debris, emergency lights strobing overhead in violent red pulses that made everything look wounded, bleeding, alive. Ava was gone again. The absence was a wound all its own. It throbbed through him with every s
The prison began to die before anyone understood it was under attack. It wasn’t the gates. It wasn’t the alarms or the guards or the steel corridors groaning under stress. It was the silence. A silence so sudden, so wrong, it felt like the world had inhaled and forgotten how to breathe. Then the scream came. Not a sound. Never a sound. It was pressure—raw, crushing force that slammed straight into bone and nerve and instinct, bypassing ears entirely. A psychic detonation that ripped through the earth itself, shaking stone and steel alike, tearing reality open along fault lines that had been waiting for centuries. Samantha was awake. Not stirring. Not testing. Not searching. Awake. Dominic felt it hit through the bond like a meteor to the chest. His breath punched out of him as molten fury flooded his veins, scorching, feral, unrestrained. This wasn’t rage that wandered blindly anymore. It knew where it was going. And it was coming for blood. The ground beneath their boot
Dominic’s POV — Alpha Emergence & Prison AssaultThe night was colder than I remembered. Not the kind of cold that numbs flesh, but the kind that crawls under your skin, biting at your nerves and leaving fire in its wake. Every street, every alley we passed brought me closer to the prison—closer to Samantha, to Ava, to the storm that was already raging in my mate.Liza ran beside me, clutching the map and trembling, but steadying herself on every step. I could feel her, tethered to me, sensing the same surge I had—Samantha’s psychic scream had left threads in both of us, invisible but undeniable.And she was getting stronger.I felt it before I saw it.The air thickened, the shadows of the night bending toward us as though the world itself was bracing for what was coming. The psychic bond between us pulsed like a heartbeat—fast, uneven, electric—and the witch inside Samantha was screaming to be free.I shifted.Not just a glance. Not just instinct.I shifted.Muscles knotted







