CHAPTER 4

Demetrius's POV

I sat behind my desk as the morning sun filtered through the towering windows of my office, bathing the room in a warm golden glow that contrasted sharply with the endless stack of reports waiting for my attention. Trade agreements, border patrol reports, pack finances, disputes between neighbouring packs—they were all neatly arranged before me, each one demanding a decision that would ultimately shape the future of Black Moon.

Many believed that being an Alpha was simply about strength; about leading warriors into battle, defeating enemies, and protecting one's territory with sharpened claws and brute force. They couldn't have been more wrong. Strength alone could never sustain a pack. Leadership was forged through patience, discipline, and the willingness to make difficult decisions long before swords were drawn or wolves shifted.

Every treaty I signed determined whether another pack became an ally or an enemy. Every punishment I handed down reminded my wolves that discipline was never optional, and every order I gave carried the weight of hundreds of lives. One careless decision could destroy everything my parents had sacrificed their lives to protect, and I had long since accepted that such a burden came with wearing the Alpha's title.

I reached for another report and scanned its contents with practiced ease before my attention settled on the latest patrol update submitted by Jackson. My eyes lingered on the final section of the report, where three names—or rather, three descriptions—had been hastily written beneath the patrol summary.

Three trespassers.

Two rogues.

One unidentified she-wolf.

The rogues had already been thrown into the dungeons beneath the pack house. They would speak eventually. Pain had a way of breaking even the most stubborn wolves, and those who refused to cooperate quickly discovered that time could be just as merciless.

The she-wolf, however, was another matter entirely.

According to Jackson, she claimed she had wandered into Black Moon territory while sleepwalking. The excuse was absurd enough that most Alphas would have dismissed it immediately, yet something about the report made me pause. Jackson wasn't easily fooled, nor was he a man who wasted ink describing ordinary prisoners. If he had chosen to mention her separately, there was a reason.

My gaze drifted lower until it settled on the final sentence he had written.

Her scent is... unusual.

I read the words twice before leaning back in my chair, my fingers tapping lightly against the polished surface of the desk. Strange scents rarely meant anything good, especially now that rogue activity along our borders had increased over the past several weeks. They lingered just beyond our territory as though testing our defences, waiting for the slightest sign of weakness.

They would wait forever.

Black Moon had survived because weakness had never been tolerated within these borders. Other Alphas called me ruthless, while others whispered that I was cruel, but their opinions had never interested me. Mercy was a luxury leaders could rarely afford. Fear, however, was far more reliable. Fear kept my warriors vigilant, my enemies cautious, and my borders secure. As long as I remained Alpha, that would never change.

Even so, one question continued to linger at the back of my mind.

Why now?

For years the rogues had kept their distance, content to remain scattered beyond our borders. Now they appeared almost daily, growing bolder with every passing week. It wasn't like them to act without purpose, and experience had taught me that when rogues became organised, someone was always pulling the strings.

My thoughts drifted somewhere I rarely allowed them to go.

The smell of blood.

The clash of steel.

The deafening sound of warriors fighting to protect the place they called home.

My uncle's betrayal had destroyed far more than my family. Blinded by greed and consumed by his hunger for power, he had joined forces with rogues in an attempt to seize the Alpha title from my father. Instead, he left Black Moon drowning in blood and stole two people who could never be replaced.

My father had died defending this pack.

My mother had died protecting me.

The memory settled heavily in my chest before I forced it back into the place where I had buried it years ago. An Alpha who allowed grief to cloud his judgement endangered everyone under his protection, and that was a mistake I refused to make.

A sharp knock echoed through the office, drawing me from my thoughts.

"Enter."

The heavy oak doors swung open, and Jackson stepped inside. As always, his movements were precise and disciplined, the years spent serving as my Beta evident in every step he took. He inclined his head respectfully before coming to a stop a few feet from my desk.

"Alpha."

I looked up from the report I had been reading and leaned back slightly in my chair.

"What is it?"

"The two rogues still refuse to speak."

A humourless smile tugged at the corner of my lips.

"They will."

There wasn't a trace of uncertainty in my voice. They always did eventually. Whether it took hours or days made little difference to me. Every wolf had a breaking point, and rogues were no exception.

Jackson gave a small nod before continuing.

"The female prisoner is ready for questioning."

I remained silent, waiting for him to finish.

"She still insists she wandered into our territory by accident."

I arched a brow.

"Accident?"

"According to her..." He hesitated for the briefest moment. "She claims she was sleepwalking."

Silence settled between us.

The explanation was absurd. Any wolf with the slightest sense knew how heavily Black Moon protected its borders. Crossing into our territory unnoticed was difficult enough. Wandering through it while asleep was almost laughable.

Yet something in Jackson's expression held me back from dismissing her story entirely.

"Do you believe her?" I asked quietly.

He exhaled slowly before answering.

"I don't believe she's lying."

"But?"

His grey eyes lifted to meet mine.

"I don't believe she understands how she got here either."

That answer caught my attention far more than I cared to admit.

Jackson wasn't a man who relied on assumptions. If he spoke, it was because he had observed something worth mentioning.

"What about her scent?"

His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.

"I've never encountered anything like it."

He searched for the right words, almost as though describing it frustrated him.

"It isn't the scent of a rogue, and it isn't entirely that of a werewolf either. There's... something else mixed within it. I can't explain it."

Deep within my mind, Altracas stirred once more.

The massive black wolf had been restless since sunrise, but at Jackson's words, he rose to his feet and began pacing again.

I frowned.

What is it?

No answer came.

Only silence... and the unsettling feeling that my wolf already knew something I didn't.

Without another word, I closed the report and pushed it aside.

"Bring her."

Jackson dipped his head before leaving the office, the heavy doors closing quietly behind him.

The room fell silent once again.

For a few moments, I remained seated, staring absentmindedly at the reports scattered across my desk. My thoughts should have been on the rogues gathering along our borders or the unanswered questions surrounding my uncle's movements, yet they kept returning to one insignificant she-wolf whose story made no sense.

Sleepwalking.

It was ridiculous.

And yet...

Something about her refused to leave my mind.

I rose from my chair and walked towards the towering windows overlooking the training grounds below. Warriors moved with disciplined precision as they sparred beneath the watchful eyes of the Enforcers. The clash of wooden practice swords echoed across the courtyard while younger wolves ran laps around the perimeter, each one determined to prove themselves worthy of wearing the Black Moon crest.

No one slacked.

No one questioned orders.

That was how I had built this pack and that was how I intended to keep it.

My gaze lingered on the warriors for a moment longer before another knock interrupted the silence.

"The prisoner has arrived, Alpha."

"Send her in."

I turned away from the window and walked back towards my desk, choosing to lean casually against its polished edge. Outwardly, I appeared completely relaxed, but years of experience had taught me never to underestimate anyone brought before me.

Whether she was an innocent girl or an enemy hiding behind frightened eyes, I would know soon enough.

The doors creaked open.

An Enforcer stepped inside first before guiding the female prisoner into the room. Once she had crossed the threshold, he released his grip on her arm and retreated to stand beside the entrance.

She remained where she was.

Her head was lowered, and the rough prison blanket wrapped tightly around her shoulders barely concealed how violently she trembled. Dried mud stained her bare feet, while scratches marked her legs from walking through the forest. Loose strands of auburn hair framed her face, hiding most of her features from view.

She looked exhausted.

Not the exhaustion of someone who had fought a battle...

But the kind that settled into a person's soul after days of fear and uncertainty.

The frantic rhythm of her heartbeat echoed throughout the office, each rapid beat betraying the terror she struggled to hide.

She was afraid.

Any wolf with functioning ears could hear it.

Most prisoners attempted to mask their fear, straightening their shoulders or meeting my gaze in a final act of defiance.

She did neither.

She simply stood there, clutching the blanket tightly around herself as though it were the only thing keeping her from falling apart.

My eyes moved over her with the same careful precision I used when assessing every potential threat.

No concealed weapons.

No silver.

No scars suggesting years of combat.

Her breathing was uneven, and despite everything, she hadn't once attempted to look around the room in search of an escape route.

She didn't resemble a spy and she certainly didn't resemble a rogue.

If anything...

She looked hopelessly out of place.

"Lift your head, pup."

Her fingers tightened around the edge of the blanket. For the briefest moment, I thought she might refuse.

Instead, she drew a slow, shaky breath before raising her head exactly as commanded.

The moment our eyes met...

Time seemed to stand still.

The palest blue eyes I had ever seen stared back at me, clouded with fear yet carrying a quiet resilience that caught me completely off guard.

Most wolves broke beneath my gaze.

She didn't.

She was frightened—there was no denying that—but somewhere beneath the fear remained a flicker of stubbornness that refused to disappear.

Before I could speak, an unfamiliar scent drifted towards me.

I inhaled instinctively.

Werewolf...

But there was something else.

Something ancient, something that didn't belong.

The scent wrapped around my senses with quiet persistence, awakening instincts I had never experienced before.

Behind my eyes, Altracas stopped pacing.

For one heartbeat...

Everything became perfectly still.

Then he surged forward with such overwhelming force that I nearly lost control.

A growl rumbled deep within my chest before I forced it back. Every muscle in my body tensed ,the hairs on the back of my neck stood upright.

The entire world faded into the background until there was nothing left except the frightened girl standing before me.

One word thundered through my mind.

Mine.

I clenched my jaw.

No.

That was impossible.

Then Altracas spoke again, his voice stronger than it had ever been before.

One word.

One impossible, life-altering word.

MATE

The single word struck me harder than any blow I had ever received.

My eyes never left the frightened she-wolf standing before me, while disbelief and anger twisted together inside my chest.

No...

The Moon Goddess couldn't possibly be this cruel.