LOGIN
"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 whistles erupted from the warriors watching nearby.
Kael groaned from where he lay sprawled on his back. "One day I'm going to stop letting you do that."
Natasha snorted and offered him a hand. "You say that every time."
The morning air was cool against her sweat damp skin. Her muscles burned pleasantly from the fight, and for a few precious moments, she could forget the conversation waiting for her back at the pack house.
Forget the whispers.
Forget the pitying looks.
Forget that every unmated female in the kingdom had become a target.
Kael accepted her hand and pulled himself upright.
"Father's looking for you."
Of course he was.
"Let me guess." Natasha grabbed a towel and wiped the sweat from her face. "Another lecture about finding a mate?"
Kael's expression turned apologetic.
That answer was enough.
Natasha clenched her jaw.
She was one of the strongest warriors in the pack. She led patrols. Trained recruits. Had fought rogues twice her size and walked away victorious.
None of that seemed to matter.
To most wolves, she wasn't a warrior.
She was simply an unmated female running out of time.
The blast of a horn echoed from the main gate.
Conversation died instantly.
Every head turned.
A royal courier bearing the Alpha King's crest rode into the courtyard.
Natasha's stomach sank.
Royal couriers never brought casual news.
With a curt nod to Kael, she headed toward the pack house.
---
Her father's study smelled of ink, leather, and old parchment.
Alpha Aldric stood near the window, a sealed scroll in his hand. The royal crest had already been broken.
That alone told her enough.
This wasn't a request.
It was an order.
"A summons arrived this morning from the Alpha King," Aldric said without turning.
Natasha folded her arms. "What now?"
"There is to be a royal ball."
Silence.
Then
"No."
Her father finally turned.
"I haven't finished."
"I don't need you to."
Aldric exhaled slowly.
"Every unmated wolf in the kingdom is required to attend."
Natasha gave a short, humorless laugh. "Required."
"It is not optional."
"I have patrol rotations."
"You will miss them."
"The northern border"
"Will survive without you."
Her jaw tightened.
"I don't belong at a ball."
That made him pause.
Not anger.
Something heavier.
Resignation.
"Natasha," he said quietly.
She hated when he used her name like that.
Like she was already halfway gone from the life she wanted.
"You are of age," he continued. "And the kingdom is watching unmated wolves more closely than ever."
"I don't care what the kingdom is doing."
"You will."
That landed harder than it should have.
Aldric stepped forward, placing the scroll on his desk.
"It is not just a ball."
Her attention sharpened.
"What do you mean?"
His gaze held hers.
"The Alpha King will be present. So will every major Alpha family in the kingdom."
Natasha's arms tightened across her chest.
"So?"
A pause.
Then
"And the Shadow Alpha will attend as well."
The name settled in the room like a weight.
Even Natasha had heard it.
Not from her father directly.
From whispers in training yards.
From traveling warriors.
From warnings disguised as admiration.
The Shadow Alpha.
Damien Blackthorne.
A wolf who had taken leadership by force and turned Shadow Fang into something larger, sharper, and far more dangerous than it had ever been before.
Some called him a strategist.
Others called him ruthless.
Most agreed on one thing.
He was not a man you underestimated.
Natasha gave a short scoff to cover the unease she refused to acknowledge. "A room full of Alphas judging unmated wolves. How festive."
"You will not be judged," Aldric said.
She looked at him sharply. "That's exactly what this is."
Silence stretched.
Then his voice lowered.
"Just attend. For me."
There it was again.
Duty wrapped in family.
Obligation dressed as love.
Natasha looked away.
She hated that it worked.
After a long moment, she gave a single nod.
"Fine."
Relief flickered across his face.
That only made her more irritated.
She turned and left.
---
In her chambers, she stripped away the sweat of training and washed the dirt from her skin.
On the bed lay a gown.
Emerald green.
Soft fabric.
Delicate stitching.
A weapon disguised as elegance.
Her sister's choice, no doubt.
Natasha stared at it like it had insulted her personally.
She would rather wear armor.
At least armor didn't lie.
In three days, she would wear it.
In three days, she would stand in a room full of strangers and be measured like currency.
And in three days, she would meet the Shadow Alpha.
She did not know why that thought lingered longer than it should have.
She turned away from the dress.
Three days.
Then it would be over.
Or it would begin.
---
Miles away, wolves lowered their eyes when Damien Blackthorne entered a room.
Not because he demanded it.
Because power recognized power.
At twenty eight, the Shadow Alpha ruled one of the strongest territories in the kingdom.
Three years after claiming leadership, he had expanded borders, secured trade routes, and crushed every challenge to his authority.
The elders called him the future of the kingdom.
The kingdom called him the Shadow Alpha.
Damien called the Alpha King's ball a complete waste of time.
Steam drifted through his quarters as he dragged a towel through his dark brown hair.
A knock sounded at the door.
Before he could answer, Jax entered carrying a scroll.
"The elders sent me."
Damien groaned. "Let me guess."
"They want your final answer."
"My answer hasn't changed."
Jax tossed the scroll onto the bed.
"They're still pushing the mate selections."
Damien didn't look at it.
A list of daughters.
Political alliances.
Carefully curated futures he had no interest in.
"They keep forgetting something," he said.
"Which is?"
"I don't choose a Luna because they want me to."
Jax exhaled. "You know the pack needs"
"A Luna," Damien cut in. "They say that every week. The pack is doing fine without one."
Jax raised a brow. "The elders disagree."
"The elders are welcome to marry among themselves."
That earned a reluctant laugh.
Damien pulled on a dark tunic, the fabric sliding over his skin as he fastened the silver fang clasp at his collar.
"They'll corner you at the ball," Jax said.
"Let them try."
"You'll be diplomatic?"
A pause.
"I'll be functional."
Jax frowned. "That's worse."
"It means I'll survive it."
Jax left shortly after.
Silence settled.
Damien crossed to the window overlooking Shadow Fang territory.
Dark forests stretched endlessly beyond the glass.
Somewhere out there, fate supposedly waited.
A mate.
A bond.
Something ancient and unproven in his experience.
He had never felt it.
Never heard the call.
Never been claimed by anything beyond his own will.
And yet
Something restless stirred beneath his skin.
Not recognition.
Not certainty.
Just a flicker of unease he couldn't name.
His wolf shifted.
Quiet.
Watchful.
Waiting.
Damien exhaled slowly.
Three days.
Then the Alpha King's ball would begin.
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
The knife sat on the table between them, its carved handle catching the firelight.Natasha studied the marking, the howling wolf surrounded by crescent moons. The distinctive pattern was recognizable among Kieran's personal belongings."It doesn't make sense," she said. "Blackwood Ridge is nearly fifteen miles from the northeastern patrol route. Even if Kieran fled in disorientation, why would he travel that far north? And in what direction?"Damien stood at the window, his arms crossed as he stared into the darkness. "He wouldn't. Not unless something led him there. Or someone.""You think he was taken?""I think we don't have enough information to think anything." He turned to face her. "But I don't believe in coincidences. Not with everything else that's happened."Natasha reached for the knife, turning it over in her hands. The metal was cold, the blade still sharp. Whatever had happened to Kieran, the knife offered no answers. It had simply been left behind.Like a message."The
Morning light crept through the heavy curtains, pale and wintry, casting long shadows across the chamber. Natasha woke slowly, her body heavy with the particular exhaustion that came from a fortnight of broken sleep. Beside her, Damien lay on his back, one arm flung across his eyes, his breathing deep and even.She turned her head toward the cradle. Cassian was awake, she could tell by the small sounds of movement, the soft rustle of blankets, the tiny squeak that preceded either contentment or demand. But he wasn't crying. Not yet.The events of the previous night lingered in her mind. That strange stillness, the way Cassian's body had tensed and his unfocused eyes had seemed to fix on something unseen. She had replayed it dozens of times in the dark hours before sleep finally claimed her.She slipped from the bed carefully, moving to the cradle. Cassian lay on his back, his small fists curled near his face, his dark hair sticking up in tufts. His eyes, still that newborn blue, not y
The torchlight flickered against the stone walls, casting dancing shadows that seemed to pulse with the rhythm of Natasha's own heartbeat. She stood motionless, her mind turning over Reed's impossible account."We should not jump to conclusions," she said finally, her voice steady despite the chill that had settled in her bones. "His memories are fragmented. He admitted himself that time has no meaning in what he remembers."Damien nodded slowly, though his jaw remained tight."I know. Trauma can distort perception. Exhaustion can create phantom sounds."He paused, dragging a hand through his dark hair."But the timing troubles me. He was certain the cry came after the first breach, before the main attack.""Certainty does not mean accuracy."Natasha moved toward the door, needing to check on Cassian even though she had left him with a trusted attendant barely an hour ago."Reed is confused. His sense of time may be completely unreliable."Damien fell into step beside her, his hand fi
Marcus led the returned warrior through the stone corridors of Shadow Fang's eastern wing, away from the family quarters and toward the secure chambers reserved for questioning. The warrior, Reed, walked with steady steps but unfocused eyes, his gaze drifting repeatedly toward the windows that faced north.Two guards fell in behind them, close enough to intervene if necessary but far enough to avoid crowding. The tension in the corridor was palpable, a living thing that pressed against the walls.Damien walked beside Marcus, his posture rigid with controlled alertness. Natasha had remained with Cassian for the initial examination. There would be time for questioning later, once they knew more about what they were dealing with.The secure chamber was a small stone room with a single table, several chairs, and iron sconces that cast flickering light across the rough-hewn walls. A brazier burned in one corner, pushing back the winter chill. Marcus positioned Reed in a chair facing the do
Natasha woke to the soft glow of early morning light filtering through the curtains. The bed beside her was empty, the sheets cool where Damien should have been. A flicker of panic surged through her chest before she heard the low murmur of his voice across the room.She turned her head slowly, her body still heavy with exhaustion. Damien stood by the window, their son cradled securely against his chest. His back was to her, his dark hair disheveled from sleep, and he spoke in a quiet voice meant only for the baby."See that mountain out there? The one with the flat top? Your great-grandfather used to tell me stories about how a giant wolf bit the peak clean off during a battle with the moon goddess herself."He paused, his voice dropping to an even softer register."Probably not true, but it makes for a good tale. You'll hear plenty of those growing up."Natasha smiled against her pillow, watching the scene unfold. This was a side of Damien that few ever saw. The ruthless Alpha of Sh
Natasha stood frozen for a long moment after Damien’s silhouette disappeared through the velvet curtain. The cold night air clung to her skin, but the heat radiating from her chest—from the bond she refused to name—made her feel feverish. Her wolf, a restless presence she’d always kept tightly leas
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







