Chapter 4

Leila POV

Kai’s command— “Get to the Saferoom!”—rings in my ears, his grey eyes softening for a fleeting moment before he’s gone, a blur of motion tearing down the packhouse hall with Dax hot on his heels, their footfalls swallowed by the rising clamour of shifting wolves and urgent howls. My heart hammers, a frantic drumbeat against my ribs, as I stumble toward the basement, legs trembling like a newborn fawn’s. Without Aria, my wolf, I’m little more than human in a world of claws and fangs, defenceless against rogues who could shred me in seconds. The Saferoom’s reinforced steel doors loom ahead, a cold, unyielding barrier nestled in the packhouse’s underbelly, their surface glinting dully in the flickering light of emergency sconces. Miss Ophelia stands at the entrance, herding a stream of pups and elders inside, her face carved in stone but her dark eyes betraying a flicker of worry beneath her usual warmth.

“Girl Child, get in here quick!” she calls, her voice a steady anchor in the chaos, pulling me into a hug that envelops me in the comforting scent of fresh-baked bread and sage, a fleeting balm against the panic clawing my chest. I cling to her for a moment, her sturdy frame grounding me, before she ushers me inside. The heavy doors seal shut behind us with a resonant clang that echoes like a tomb’s closure, cutting off the distant snarls and shouts from above. The Saferoom is a cramped, dimly lit bunker, its concrete walls pressing in, the air thick with the mingled scents of fear-sweat, fur, and stale breath. Pups whimper, huddled against their mothers, while elders murmur prayers to the Moon Goddess, their voices a low, anxious hum. I find a corner, sinking to the cold floor, my blue sundress bunching around my knees, and wrap my arms around myself, trying to quell the shaking. My mind races—rogues? Why now? Kai runs the Blood Moon Pack like a fortress, with ironclad borders. But those silver bullets they pulled from me five years ago. Dr. Nolan said they were rogue tactics; it’s haunting me now—could my history relate to this rogue attack? What if they’re here for me?

Elvira hovers near the door, her perfume cutting through the fear-thick air like a blade, her pregnant belly prominently displayed as she complains loudly about the “filthy conditions” and how “an alpha’s heir shouldn’t be trapped like a common mutt.” Her voice grates, drawing glares from the elders, but she doesn’t notice – or doesn’t care. She clutches a tote bag like a shield, eyes darting to the sealed door every few minutes, lips moving in what might be a prayer…or a curse. Something about her calm amid the chaos prickles my skin. While pups whimper and mothers soothe, she stands apart, untouched by the panic, almost expectant. She catches my stare and gives me look that will turn even the hottest fire to ice.

Time drags in the suffocating gloom, minutes stretching into what feels like hours, the dim glow of a single bulb casting long, wavering shadows across the crowded bodies. A small pup tugs my sleeve, eyes wide. “Will the Alpha win?” I force a smile, pulling him into my lap. “Alpha Kai always wins,” I say, stroking his hair, though my own fear twists tighter.

The pack link buzzes with fragmented updates, each one a jolt to my nerves: Warriors engaging on the south border. Kai leading the charge. Injuries reported. My breath hitches, imagining Kai and Dax out there. I press my palms to my eyes, willing the fear away, but a sudden, searing pain lances through my skull, sharp as a blade and twice as cruel, like a migraine forged in fire. I gasp, clutching my temples, my vision blurring as the Saferoom fades. Miss Ophelia’s at my side in an instant, her calloused hands steadying my shoulders. “Leila? What’s wrong, child?” Her voice is thick with concern, her motherly touch grounding me as I sway.

“I… I don’t know,” I stammer, my voice a trembling whisper, but the world shifts, and I’m no longer in the Saferoom. I’m running—my bare feet pound against damp forest earth, twigs snapping under my soles, the air heavy with pine and the metallic sting of fear. It’s me, but not me—my body feels lighter, faster, my senses sharper, as if my wolf is alive within me. Gunshots crack like thunder, the sound ricocheting through the trees, and pain explodes in my side, silver burning through my flesh like acid. I stumble, blood soaking my torn shirt, and a voice screams a name—not Leila, but Liora! The sound raw and desperate, tearing from a shadowy figure ahead. My vision flickers, and I’m back in the Saferoom, sweat beading on my skin, my body fever hot as if I’m burning from the inside out. A low growl rumbles in my throat, raw and unfamiliar, vibrating in my chest. A growl? From me? Aria? My hands tremble, nails digging into my palms, and another flash hits—cloaked figures in the dark, their silver weapons glinting, their voices hissing, “Suppress her wolf. She can’t know who she is.” The Saferoom snaps back, Miss Ophelia’s worried face swims into focus, her grip tightening on my hands.”

“Leila, breathe, Girl Child,” she soothes, but my heart races, the name Liora echoing like a ghost in my mind. “I saw… I was running,” I whisper, voice hoarse. “Rogues, silver bullets. They called me Liora. They wanted my wolf gone.” My body shakes, the growl lingering in my throat, Aria stirring deep within, a faint spark of her presence after years of silence. The pack link pulses again—Rogues retreating. Alpha safe. —but the visions cling to me, heavy as the Saferoom’s air, and I feel it in my bones that this attack wasn’t just random. Whoever I was—Liora? —the rogues are tied to my past, and I’m not just a foundling anymore. “They’re coming for me. I know it.”