LOGINCorin
My room—if that damp, unfurnished hole at the end of the servant wing could even be called a room—was dark and suffocating. After fleeing the training field, I didn’t dare go to my mother. I didn’t want her to see my face, because she would have known immediately that something had happened. Mason’s touch still burned on my skin, a strange, tingling imprint I couldn’t wash away. My back was on fire. I tried to peel the blood soaked shirt off myself, but the fabric had fused to the lash wounds. Every tug drew a sharp hiss from my throat, tears streaming down my face. “Let this whole pack rot,” I whispered into the darkness. “Let all of them rot.” Then I heard scratching at the window. It was deliberate. Three short taps. My heart jumped hard. Glacier. With painful effort, I got up, draped a thin blanket over myself to hide my bloody back, and climbed out the window. He was waiting in the back garden, beneath the shadows of the old willow trees. When I saw his shape, his blond hair glowing even in the moonlight, all my pain faded for a moment. He was my salvation. “Corin,” he stepped out of the shadows and pulled me into an embrace. I hissed as his hand touched my back. Glacier released me instantly, genuine concern on his face. “What happened? Did they hurt you again?” he asked, his voice full of smooth sympathy. “Martha… and the whip. I slipped in the kitchen,” I lowered my head. I felt ashamed in front of him. A future Alpha should have a strong mate, not a wreck like me. Glacier sighed deeply and slid his fingers under my chin, lifting my face. “Sweet gods, Corin… I wish I had been there. This is the last time, I promise. Once you turn eighteen and I mark you at the ball, no one will ever touch you again. Lumi and Martha will be on their knees begging you for forgiveness.” “You really will?” I asked in a trembling voice. “You’ll really take me away from here? And my mother too?” Glacier’s eyes flickered for a split second, so fast I thought it was just the moonlight. “Of course, my love. But until then… you have to stay strong. Don’t cause any more trouble in the kitchen, all right? Don’t give them reasons to punish you. You know how closely my father watches your every move. If he doesn’t see that you’re worthy of the pack, it’ll be hard to convince him.” His words, though gentle, hit me like a slap. Don’t cause trouble. As if it had been my fault that Martha had me whipped, or that Lumi targeted me. But I wanted his love so badly that I only nodded. “I heard that today at training Mason, the Alpha of Brown Stone, went up to you,” Glacier said suddenly, his voice sharpening just slightly. “What did that animal want from you?” “Nothing… he just… saw that my back was bleeding. He sent me away to rest,” I replied quietly. Glacier laughed, but there was no warmth in it. “Mason didn’t do that out of mercy, Corin. He’s a predator. He probably just smelled your weakness. Stay away from him, do you understand? He’s dangerous. Don’t even look at him.” “I understand,” I whispered, though Mason’s gaze that afternoon hadn’t felt animalistic. It had felt like he was the only one who actually saw me. Glacier pulled me close again, more carefully this time, and pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. “Go back and rest. Tomorrow will be a hard day. You’ll have to help with the preparations for the ball. I love you, Corin.” “I love you too,” I said, watching him disappear into the night. I climbed back into my room, but before closing the window, a shiver ran through me. For some reason, I felt like we weren’t alone. I glanced toward the dark edge of the forest, and between the trees, far beyond the pack’s territory, I thought I saw two glowing, ember bright eyes. Like a wolf’s—but much larger, much darker. Mason? No. That was impossible. What would he be doing here in the middle of the night? I closed my eyes and tried to sleep, but the throbbing in my back and the memory of those watching eyes wouldn’t let me rest. I clung to Glacier’s promises, yet deep in my heart a small, icy voice whispered that something was wrong. The next morning, the pain hadn’t eased. If anything, my back was completely stiff. But there was no stopping. The final round of cleaning and decorating before the ball awaited me. The entire pack buzzed with excitement, and Lumi strutted around as if she were already queen. On my way to the kitchen, I ran into my mother in the corridor. She was pale, dark circles under her eyes. “Corin, my little girl…” she whispered, gripping my hand for a moment. “I heard what happened yesterday. I’m so sorry.” “I’m fine, Mom. Really,” I lied, though every breath hurt. “Don’t believe Glacier,” she said suddenly, so quietly I almost didn’t hear it. Her voice trembled with fear. “I know these wolves. I know his father. They won’t accept you. We have to leave, Corin. Now. Before it’s too late.” “Mom, don’t be ridiculous. Glacier promised—” I started, but she only shook her head and hurried away as Martha’s voice rang out from the kitchen. A heavy stone settled in my stomach. My mother had never spoken like that before. She was always the one telling me to endure. What had changed? What did she know that I didn’t? That afternoon, as I cleaned the great hall’s windows from a tall ladder, the Brown Stone pack appeared again. This time not for training, but for diplomatic talks. Mason walked at the front, dressed in a black leather jacket, his gaze locking onto me instantly, like a magnet. I slipped on the ladder in surprise and nearly fell, barely catching myself at the last second. Mason stopped, and for a moment it looked like he was about to come over, but Glacier’s father, the Alpha, blocked his way with a friendly shoulder pat. Mason’s face remained stone hard, but his eyes never left me. There was no mockery in them, no pity. Only that raw, suffocating attention that both terrified me and filled me with a strange, unfamiliar sense of safety. Then something happened. Mason’s nostrils flared. He scented the air. His gaze dropped to my back, to the place where the smell of my wounds must still have leaked through my thin shirt. His hand clenched into a fist, and a low, deep growl escaped his throat, so quiet that the entire hall fell silent. “Is something wrong, Mason?” Glacier’s father asked suspiciously. Mason slowly turned back to the Alpha, his voice like sharpened stone. “Nothing. I just don’t like the smell of rot in a house that pretends to be clean.”Corin The door closed behind us with a heavy thud, shutting out the world, the war, and the restless murmur of the pack. Mason did not light a lamp. Only the faint glow of embers in the hearth painted the walls in deep crimson shadows. He still held me in his arms, as if setting me down might cause me to shatter. “Mason, you can put me down,” I whispered, though my head rested comfortably against his shoulder. The scent of smoke and ash clung to us both, mingling with the pine that always lingered on his skin. “My legs are fine.” “Your legs are,” he answered in a low, rough voice, tightening his hold just slightly. “Your back is not. Do you even feel how badly you were burned?” “The adrenaline dulled it,” I murmured. Now, wrapped in silence, the truth crept back in. The throbbing between my shoulder blades sharpened with each breath. Fire had left its mark. He set me down carefully on the thick rug befor
Corin The setting sun painted the pine trees around Northwood in long streaks of red. Smoke still lingered in the air, bitter and heavy, but the sounds of battle had given way to the steady rhythm of rebuilding. Saws growled. Hammers struck wood in determined cadence. Mason wasted no time. He assigned a dozen of his strongest warriors to remain behind as guards and to help begin reconstruction. “Watch the borders. If you see even a single silver hair, do not ask questions. Strike,” he commanded, his voice iron hard. Then he turned to me. His gaze softened as he looked me over. I still lay on the makeshift cot in the temporary infirmary, but the herbal salve and my wolf’s healing strength were already working. “I am taking you home, Corin. You and the children. The stronghold is safer. Nell and the others will care for you properly,” he said. He lifted me as if I were something sacred. The surviving child
Mason The rage was still pounding at my temples, but the sight before me slowly quieted the wolf raging inside. We had set up a temporary camp at the edge of the village, far from the still smoldering ruins. Brown Stone warriors moved in silent patrols, yet their gazes kept drifting toward the tent erected at the center of camp. Inside, gentleness and pain existed side by side. Corin lay on her stomach on a bedding layered with thick blankets. Her back… even I had to steady myself at the sight, and I had witnessed the worst horrors of war. Her skin was red and blistered where she had held the burning beam. And yet she did not complain. She simply lay there, cheek resting on her forearm, a strange serenity in her eyes that I could not comprehend. A bowl of cool herbal salve sat beside me. I dipped my fingers into it and began spreading it over her burned flesh with the lightest touch I was capable of. I felt her body
Corin The cracking of the beams sounded like the scream of a dying beast. As the roof gave way, burning wood and heavy tiles crashed down without mercy. There was nowhere to leap. No time to escape. Only one choice remained. I positioned myself above the children, braced my hind legs, and took the impact across my back. The weight was crushing. It felt as if a mountain had fallen on me. A deep pained howl tore from my throat, but my legs did not buckle. The children crouched beneath me, their wide terrified eyes fixed on me. Their faces were smeared with soot, tears cutting clean paths through the dirt. “Go,” I pushed into their minds through the bond. Even in wolf form, my voice rang clearly in their heads. “Quickly, little ones. Out the window. Do not look back.” I saw Sarah’s son first. He trembled, but found strength in my gaze. I nudged him with my nose toward the opening Mason and the warriors had carved into t
Corin Morning did not arrive with sunlight but with the merciless tolling of alarm bells. I was still wrapped in Mason’s arms, caught between sleep and waking, when pounding shook the door. Mason was on his feet in a single motion. His wolf surged to the surface. Gold burned in his eyes like live embers. A breathless messenger stood in the doorway, his clothes smeared with soot, terror etched across his face. “Alpha! Northwood is burning,” he shouted. “Glacier’s units struck during the night. They are not negotiating. They are setting fire to everything in their path.” The words hit like ice water. Northwood. That was where Sarah and her little boy lived. The same child who had sat in my lap the night before. My stomach twisted with rage and fear. Mason was already strapping on his armor, his face carved from stone. “You stay in the stronghold, Corin,” he ordered as he fastened his sword to his belt. “It
Corin Dinner time arrived. Mason did not allow us to remain in the room. He wanted the pack to see us. They needed to witness that the incident in the courtyard had not weakened my position but strengthened it. When we stepped out, Mason naturally reached for my hand. His fingers intertwined firmly with mine. As we walked through the corridors toward the great dining hall, I felt the steady confidence flowing from his palm. He was not merely taking me to dinner. He was presenting to the world who stood beside him. The moment we entered the vast arched hall, the low murmur of hundreds of voices dropped into a thick whisper. I felt eyes on my face, on the fading marks from the fight, and most of all on our joined hands. The whispering rolled through the benches like wind through tall grass. “Did you see? He brought her holding hands.” “They say Lyra could not land a single blow at the end.” “Luna. He truly







