PROLOGUE

PROLOGUE

The Lycan king's secret kingdom consisted of three main packs. The Shadow Pack: crafters of weapons, strongest of alphas. The Crimson Moon Pack: known for their omega healers and every form of dark sorcery. And the Red Fang Pack: merchants and travellers.

Every wolf knew the basics.

And there was an immortal Lycan king that wielded a scythe, working in the shadows, making sure the packs coexisted and keeping the wolves from enemies.

Or at least, that was what some people believed.

Sergei Vasily knew that part was a myth. For one thing, he could hear the distant howl of rogues across the hills. It was only a matter of time before they claimed half of the Red fang pack. And he knew exactly how that was going to happen, because he was going to be a part of it.

There were two reasons he lay awake in the middle of the night.

Footsteps shuffled outside, followed by a coded rap on his window, reminding him that it was time.

He lit his torch, walking soundlessly down the room at the far end of the corridor where his five-year-old daughter slept. It wasn't locked. Pieces of Legos were scattered on the ground. A werewolf coloring book lay open on the bed where a sleeping girl lay, the black crayon still half clutched in her hand.

Sergei Vasily inched towards the bed, reaching into his coat, pulling out a syringe. A pint of blood. That was all he needed.

He hesitated, only for a brief moment, brushing his hand over his daughter's short curls, watching her stir in her sleep. Then, reminding himself that this was the only way, he pulled up the sleeves of her pyjamas, revealing the skin on her shoulder.

"Forgive me, princess."

—————

Bang!

Bang bang!

"We have orders from Alpha Kane. You must come willingly or risk death!"

It was several hours past dawn when the front door shook, loud voices coming from outside.

Zoya stuffed the last of her toys and her coloring book into her backpack. She was going to the pack house today to babysit baby Hester. Well, her mother would do most of the babysitting, but she loved playing with the two-year-old gamma wolf.

The little girl didn't understand a lot of things. Like why the angry men outside couldn't wait for her mother to finish making the pancakes so that they could all go to the pack house together, or why her right shoulder tingled like someone poked her with needles in the night.

The door of her room pushed open and Mariam rushed in, her sleeves rolled up. She crouched down next to her daughter, worry lines etched above her brows.

"Zoya," her voice trembled. She took a deep breath and pushed a basket into her daughter's hand. "I need you to go use the back door in the kitchen. Go to the garden and get all the raspberries and oranges. We're going to make a very big pie."

Zoya frowned. Her mother had never been this scared about baking pies before. Why wasn't her father home? They all went to the pack house together.

The voices outside grew louder. The banging on the front door rose.

"Mommy, why are there angry men outside?" Zoya asked, her voice tiny.

"They're probably very hungry." Mariam was already pulling her across the room. The stuffed animal fell out of her backpack. Before Zoya could reach for it, her mother had pushed her into the kitchen and slammed the door shut.

Confused and scared, Zoya went into the garden. She was halfway up the orange tree when she heard her mother's scream from the front.

What were the angry men doing to her mother?

"Mommy!" the little girl yelled, plucking a big branch, knowing she had to get to her mother no matter what.

She hurried down the tree, missing her footing in the process and tumbled down, scraping her knee.

Tears welled up in her grey eyes. She dragged herself up, ignoring her bleeding legs. Forgetting the branch and the basket, she ran all the way to the front.

Strong hands picked her up. Zoya thrashed and kicked, yelling as hot tears streamed down her face, fighting to get free.

"Shh, shhhh, it's me."

She knew that voice. It was Mari. The guy that lived in the car shed down the street and sometimes joined them at dinner. But right now, that didn't matter.

Far ahead, she could see her mother being dragged away by five angry men bearing the mark of the Red fang pack.

"Let me go! Let me go, they're taking mommy away!"