Chapter 2-The tracker and The Genius

Five years is a long time to be dead.

It is an even longer time to spend rebuilding yourself from the ashes of a destroyed life.

The freezing river should have claimed me that night. It tried its absolute best, battering my body against the jagged rocks and filling my lungs with icy water until I blacked out. But I didn’t die. I crawled out of the muddy banks miles downstream, broken, bleeding, and entirely alone.

Today, I was no longer Aria the kitchen Omega. I was a ghost of a different kind—a legendary rogue tracker known in the underworld simply as "Shadow." If you had the money and needed to find someone who had vanished into the deep, dangerous wild territories, you came to me.

"Mama, you are doing that thing again."

I blinked, pulled out of the dark memories by a tiny, stern voice. I looked down at the wooden table of the tavern we were currently sitting in.

Sitting across from me was Leo—named after the brother I couldn't save. He was four years old going on forty, possessing a mind so terrifyingly sharp it regularly made me wonder if he had somehow bypassed childhood altogether. He had thick, dark hair that curled slightly at the tips and eyes that were a striking, deep shade of amber. Eyes that, unfortunately, reminded me of the man who had rejected me.

Leo was currently sorting through a stack of complex structural maps of the neighboring Pack territories, organizing them by trade routes and defensive guard rotations.

"What thing?" I asked, leaning back in my chair and sipping my bitter black tea.

"Your murder face," Leo said without looking up, his tiny fingers neatly aligning the edges of a parchment map. "Your eyebrows go all flat, and your left hand starts twitching toward your boot knife. It is bad for business, Mama. The client is already ten minutes late, and if you scare him away, we cannot afford those imported textbooks I requested."

I let out a soft laugh, my heart warming as I reached across the table to ruffle his dark curls. "First of all, you are four years old. You do not need college-level advanced physics textbooks. Second of all, the client is late because he is a werewolf, and werewolves in this sector are notoriously lazy when they aren't running on four legs."

"I am four and a half," Leo corrected primly, adjusting his tiny round spectacles. "And the textbooks are for light reading. The local library here is severely lacking in quantum mechanics."

I shook my head, a fond smile on my lips. Leo had no wolf—just like my brother. But what he lacked in physical beast strength, he made up for with an intellect that was practically supernatural. He was my partner, my secret weapon, and my entire world.

The heavy wooden door of the tavern suddenly creaked open, letting in a gust of cold night air.

A tall, burly man in a heavy leather jacket stepped inside. He scanned the dim room, his eyes lingering on the few patrons before locking onto the small table in the corner where a woman and a child sat. He frowned, clearly expecting a fearsome tracker, not a young woman in a tailored dark coat and a quiet kid playing with maps.

But as he walked over, I didn't move. I simply let a fraction of my aura bleed out—cold, sharp, and laced with the deadly promise of a seasoned rogue.

The man froze for a fraction of a second, his posture instantly turning defensive as he realized the "harmless" woman at the table was the dangerous tracker he had hired. He swallowed hard, pulling out a chair and sitting down.

"Are you Shadow?" he asked, his voice low and raspy.

"You're late," I replied, my voice smooth, flat, and completely devoid of warmth. "And I don't like late people. It suggests a lack of discipline. State your target and your budget."

The man leaned in, whispering, "I need to track a high-value cargo shipment that went missing near the border of the Bloodwood Pack. It was intercepted by rogue raiders three nights ago."

At the mention of Bloodwood, my teacup stopped halfway to my mouth.

Jaxon's pack.

"Bloodwood territory is highly guarded," I said, keeping my expression perfectly blank. "The price for operating near their borders is double my standard rate."

"I can pay it," the man insisted, sliding a heavy velvet pouch across the table. It clinked with the distinct, heavy sound of solid gold coins. "But I need it done immediately. The Alpha of Bloodwood is hosting a massive summit in three days, and if that cargo isn't recovered before the Lycan King arrives, heads will roll."

My eyes narrowed slightly. The Lycan King.

Ethan. The supreme, terrifying ruler of the entire wolf kind. He was a mythic figure, an arrogant, dangerously powerful beast who rarely left his golden throne in the capital. Why on earth was he traveling to a mid-tier territory like Bloodwood?

"The Lycan King is visiting Jaxon?" I asked, keeping my voice casual.

"The King is conducting a security audit of the northern borders," the man whispered. "If Jaxon can't secure his own lands, the King will strip him of his title. It is a bloodbath waiting to happen."

A slow, vicious smile began to form at the corner of my lips.

Jaxon was in trouble. His precious title, the very thing he had brutally rejected and ruined my life to secure, was hanging by a thread. And the Lycan King himself was coming to pull the string.

"Mama," Leo chimed in, his bright amber eyes shifting from the map to the pouch of gold, and then to my face. He gave me a subtle, knowing nod. "We have the structural maps of the Bloodwood eastern border fully memorized. The terrain is highly favorable for a stealth retrieval."

The client stared at Leo, utterly bewildered. "Is... is the kid your strategist?"

"He's my chief financial officer and my navigator," I said smoothly, pocketing the pouch of gold. I stood up, buttoning my dark coat. "Consider your cargo found. I will have the coordinates for you by tomorrow night."

"Thank you, Shadow," the man said, looking immensely relieved.

As we walked out of the tavern and into the foggy, cool night air, Leo walked close to my side.

"We are going back there, aren't we?" Leo asked quietly, his hand slipping into mine. "To the place where you hurt."

I stopped under the dim glow of a streetlamp, looking down at him. I had spent five years running, hiding, and building a wall around my heart. But the universe was practically handing me Jaxon's downfall on a silver platter. I was no longer the weak Omega they could throw off a bridge.

"We are," I whispered, my eyes burning with a cold, ruthless resolve. "But this time, we aren't running. We are going to watch them burn".