LOGINThomas found Damien and Natasha in the war room the following morning, reviewing patrol schedules with Marcus. The Alpha's face was drawn, shadows beneath his eyes suggesting he'd slept little despite the previous night's intimacy.Natasha noticed Thomas first, her warrior's instincts catching the tension in his posture."You found something."It wasn't a question.Thomas nodded, moving to the table and spreading his latest discoveries alongside the family tree he'd constructed."I continued searching through the records Helena sent from Crescent Moon. I found a marriage record. Valerius and Cora's union, documented and then erased from official recognition."Damien leaned forward, his blue eyes scanning the faded script."Erased? By whom?""That's the question." Thomas pointed to the notation beneath the marriage record. "There's no signature. No council seal. No official explanation. Just a declaration that the bloodlines would be divided and the truth buried."Marcus stepped closer
Thomas spent the following days drafting careful correspondence to the Crescent Moon pack's archivists. He framed his requests as scholarly interest in cross-pack genealogical records, a legitimate area of study that would not arouse suspicion. The letters were formal, polite, and deliberately vague about his true purpose.Two days after sending them, a response arrived from Crescent Moon's head archivist, a woman named Helena who had known Thomas's mentor decades ago. She remembered him fondly and agreed to share copies of their oldest family records, citing academic cooperation between allied packs.The documents arrived by trusted courier the following morning. Two leather-bound ledgers and a bundle of loose parchments wrapped in oiled cloth to protect them from the winter weather. Thomas spread them across his desk, his heart pounding with anticipation.He worked through the day and into the night, cross-referencing names and dates against Shadow Fang's recovered fragments. The Cr
Thomas found Damien in the war room the following morning, poring over patrol schedules with Marcus. The Alpha looked up as the scholar entered, his blue eyes sharp despite the shadows beneath them."You have something," Damien said. It wasn't a question.Thomas nodded, clutching the leather journal to his chest. "I've been working through the night. There's a passage I need you to see."Damien gestured for Marcus to give them privacy. The warrior clasped Thomas's shoulder briefly as he passed, a silent acknowledgment of the scholar's tireless work, then slipped from the room.When the door closed, Thomas spread the journal on the table, pointing to the passage he'd transcribed from the water-damaged fragment."Let his name be removed from the histories, and let the record of his birth be concealed. What was done beneath the moon must never be spoken of again."Damien's jaw tightened as he read the words. "Someone didn't just forget the original Shadow Alpha. They made sure he would b
The ride back to Shadow Fang territory took Marcus nearly four hours through the deepening snow. His horse laboured through drifts that reached its chest, and twice he had to dismount to break a path forward. The cold gnawed at his exposed skin, but his mind burned with a single thought: someone might be alive beneath that watchpost.He didn't know who. Couldn't know for certain. But the fresh scratches on that trapdoor and the thread of dark wool caught in the gap suggested someone had been there recently.When the pack's outer perimeter finally emerged through the trees, Marcus pushed his horse harder, focused solely on reaching the main house.Damien met him in the courtyard, Natasha at his side. Snowflakes caught in her brown hair, and her green eyes were sharp with concern."What did you find?"Marcus dismounted, his legs nearly buckling from exhaustion. "A hidden chamber. Beneath the floorboards near the hearth at Blackwood Ridge. The trapdoor's damaged. We couldn't open it safe
The ride to Blackwood Ridge took longer than Marcus expected.Snow had drifted high across the northern paths, forcing his team to dismount and lead their horses through drifts that reached their waists. By the time the watchpost emerged from the grey tree line, Marcus had lost feeling in his fingers and patience in equal measure."Spread out," he told the three warriors behind him. "Circle the structure before we enter. I want fresh tracks, disturbed snow, anything that suggests recent activity."They moved without question. Marcus waited until they returned, shaking their heads."Nothing," Joren reported. "Snow's been falling too long. Any tracks would be buried."Marcus nodded and pushed through the watchpost door.Inside, the cold was different. Still and dry, like a tomb. The hearth sat dark and cold, the ashes they'd found days ago now scattered by wind through gaps in the walls. Dust coated every surface, undisturbed since their last search.Marcus pulled the architectural plan
Reed's hand trembled beneath hers, his breathing still ragged."The door," Natasha said softly. "Can you describe it?"He stared at the wall, his eyes unfocused. "Wood. Dark wood, worn by weather. Iron hinges, three of them. The handle was..." He frowned. "There was a handle. I can see it, but I can't reach the memory.""Was it inside the watchpost? Or outside?""I don't know." His voice cracked. "It's just there. In my head. But when I try to focus on it, something stops me. Like a wall I can't see past."Natasha squeezed his hand gently. "You're doing well. Rest now."She rose and left him staring into nothing, his mug growing cold between his palms. *** Damien and Marcus were waiting in the council chamber when Natasha returned. The fire had been banked low, casting long shadows across the map."Reed recognizes Blackwood Ridge," she said, settling into the chair beside Damien. "He can't explain how. But he described a door, dark wood, iron hinges, three of them. He sees it clearl
Damien’s wolf had been clawing at his ribs for hours, a relentless, snarling pressure that made every polite smile a lie. The moment he’d walked into the ballroom and caught Natasha’s scent—wildflowers and steel—the beast inside him had lunged against its chains. Mate. The word was a drumbeat in hi
The ballroom no longer felt like a celebration.It felt like observation.Natasha moved through it with controlled precision, each step measured, each expression carefully restrained. The emerald gown made her feel exposed in ways armor never had, not because it was revealing, but because it was des
The carriage stopped beneath the grand estate of the Alpha King, and Natasha immediately understood why warriors preferred battlefields over silk diplomacy.Because battlefields at least made sense.The emerald gown her sister had forced onto her clung like a second skin, elegant in a way that felt
"You're twenty-two and still unmated."The words followed Natasha across the training grounds like an unwanted shadow.She ignored them.With a sharp twist, she caught her brother's wrist and used his momentum against him. Kael hit the dirt hard enough to shake the ground beneath them.A chorus of w






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