MasukRyder pov I watch Jolie collapse after her third healing session of the day and feel completely useless.She catches herself against the wall, light flickering weakly beneath her skin like a dying star. Her empathy gift has been running constantly for six hours—emotional assessments, neural pathway rebuilding, trauma processing. She's given everything she has to helping broken wolves become whole again.And I can't do a damn thing to help."I'm fine." She straightens, forcing a smile that doesn't reach her exhausted eyes. "Just need a minute.""You need twelve hours of sleep." I move to her side, offering support she's too stubborn to accept. "And probably three full meals. When's the last time you ate?"She actually has to think about it. "Breakfast?""It's six in the evening." I steer her toward our cabin despite her protests. "You've been healing nonstop since dawn. Your body needs fuel, Jolie.""Daniel is making real progress." She lets me guide her, too tired to fight. "His emot
Jolie pov "I remember what worked for me." She shrugs, but I can see pride in her expression—an emotion she couldn't have felt months ago. "What made me feel safe versus what scared me. If I can help these healers avoid mistakes, maybe their patients will recover faster."The first conditioned wolf to accept treatment arrives on a cold Tuesday morning. Daniel Morris looks terrified when Knox escorts him into the medical bay, his eyes darting around like he expects Council enforcers to burst through the walls."You're safe here." I keep my voice gentle, my moonfire dimmed so I don't overwhelm him. "I'm Jolie. We've been writing to each other.""I know who you are." His voice is flat, emotionless in the way I've come to recognize. "The Moonfire Luna who broke the Council. Who exposed the wedding, who healed Celeste Whitmore.""That's me." I gesture to a chair. "Want to sit?"He sits mechanically, posture perfect and controlled. I can see the conditioning in every movement—no wasted mot
The first response to our outreach comes from an omega network in Colorado three days after we send the initial messages. I'm reviewing Doc's latest research when Luna brings me a sealed letter, delivered through the same anonymous motorcycle courier system the omegas have been using for weeks. "This one's different." She hands it over carefully. "The courier said to tell you it contains a name." I open it with shaking hands. Inside is a single page with minimal information: Daniel Morris, currently embedded in Redwood pack as their logistics coordinator. Requests healing. Will make contact when safe. "They're real." I look up at Luna. "The conditioned wolves are reaching out." "One is reaching out." She corrects gently. "That doesn't mean the others will." "It's a start." I fold the letter carefully. "Doc needs to see this. We need to prepare protocols for when Daniel makes contact, security measures to protect him from his handler, a treatment plan." "Slow down." Luna puts a
Jolie pov I'm in the middle of a healing session with Marina when Doc interrupts, his face pale beneath his usual calm."Jolie, I need you to see something." His voice is tight with urgency. "Now."Marina looks between us, concern flickering across features still learning to express emotion. "Is everything okay?""Go rest." I help her to her feet, my moonfire dimming as I break the connection. "We'll continue tomorrow."She leaves reluctantly, and I follow Doc to his office. He's spread documents across every available surface—files, photographs, charts with names and dates connected by red string like something from a crime investigation."What is this?" I ask, picking up a folder at random."Hell." Doc drops into his chair, looking ten years older than he did this morning. "I've been researching Celeste's conditioning, trying to understand the techniques used so I can better support the healing process. I started digging into Academy records, following trails of information. Jolie,
Ryder pov The first package arrives days after we sent out messages to omega and hybrid networks. I'm walking past the main gate when Knox intercepts me, carrying a medium-sized box wrapped in plain brown paper. No return address, just a note pinned to the top."This just showed up." He hands it over carefully. "The guard said a motorcycle courier dropped it and left. Wouldn't give a name."I pull off the note, recognizing the careful handwriting immediately. It's from Rachel, an omega I met years ago when the Iron Fangs helped her pack relocate after a territorial dispute.You showed the Council for what they are. You gave us hope that change is possible. We're with you.Inside the box is money. Not a fortune, but enough to buy two weeks of food if we're careful. Beneath the cash is a list of contacts—omega packs throughout the region willing to trade, to help, to offer support however they can."Holy shit." Knox reads over my shoulder. "Is this real?""Rachel doesn't mess around."
Ryder pov The news hits days after our talk about the future. I'm in the command center reviewing supply inventories when Luna bursts through the door, a thick envelope in her hand. Her face is tight with anger."They're cutting us off." She tosses the envelope onto the table.I pick it up, scanning the formal letterhead. Council seal at the top, followed by dense legal language that boils down to one thing: economic sanctions. Traditional packs are forbidden from trading with Iron Fangs territory. Any pack that maintains contact with us faces their own penalties."When did this arrive?" I ask."This morning." Luna drops into a chair. "But the sanctions went into effect yesterday. Our suppliers in Montana? Cancelled our standing orders. The medical supply company in Oregon? Refused to ship. Even the damn butcher in town won't sell to us anymore."I flip through the pages, my jaw tightening with each line. They're strangling us without firing a shot, cutting off every supply line we'v







