1

Ayla

“An Omega is a liability to my throne. You are a useless blight, Ayla. I, Alpha Dave Nightclaw, reject you as my mate.”

The snap of the fated mate bond felt like an executioner’s axe—one clean, merciless stroke that split me open from soul to skin, leaving nothing behind but a jagged vacancy where something sacred used to live.

Five years had passed, but the wound had never fully closed. In the quiet moments, if I closed my eyes, I was right back there. Standing on the frigid stone dais, stripped of my clothes and my dignity, while a thousand wolves watched in silence and did nothing.

And right in the center of my vision was Dave.

He didn’t just look at me; he looked through me, his face wiped clean of everything the night before had promised. The man who had held me like I was something worth keeping was gone, packed away somewhere I would never be allowed to follow.

In his place stood someone I didn’t recognize—composed, cold, and entirely willing to feed me to the wolves at his feet if it meant keeping his throne warm.

His voice, laced with pure Alpha command, boomed across the clearing and echoed off the ancient trees.

“You’re hereby banished from the Pack and never to be seen again!”

The wooden sanding block in my hand came to a sudden halt. The rough sandpaper bit into my thumb, the sting finally dragging me backward out of the abyss of those memories. I didn’t pull away. I just stared blankly at the hand-carved wooden wolf in my lap, my fingers clenching around the toy until the sharp edges dug painfully into my palm.

“Mommy! Look! I made a fortress!”

Snow’s bright, melodic voice pierced through the lingering dark fog. I blinked, the cold stone of the dais instantly melting away, replaced by the warm, sunlit wood of our small cabin. The comforting scent of dried lavender and pine filled my nose, grounding me to the life I had built.

I bit the inside of my lip and looked down at the thick furs covering the floorboards. Five years, and I still let him drag me back there. The Moon Goddess had given me everything I needed to move forward, and I kept looking over my shoulder anyway. She had blessed me with two perfect reasons to look forward instead.

“It’s too high for the bad things to climb,” Snow giggled, her small fingers carefully balancing a hand-carved block on top of a precarious wooden tower.

“Mine is bigger!” Leo interjected, throwing his entire body forward with a loud, boisterous laugh. He swept his chubby arm across the thick furs, intentionally sending his own blocks clattering into a massive, messy pile. “It’s an Alpha castle, Snow! It protects the whole forest!”

“Leo, don’t!” Snow protested, though she was laughing far too hard to be genuinely angry at her twin.

Leo let out a playful roar, but the sound resonated too deep, too old for a five-year-old’s chest. He tumbled over the furs in pure excitement, and I reached out to ruffle his hair.

My hand froze an inch above his head.

Right before my eyes, his soft human ears flattened and lengthened, the skin melting into thick, midnight-black fur. Not the pointed ears of a Nightclaw wolf. These were larger, heavily tufted, rimmed with a shimmering vapor of liquid silver that bled into the air around him.

Lycan traits.

I lunged forward, throwing my body between them as my hands shook violently, cupping Leo’s warm cheeks to tilt his face up to mine.

“Leo, sweetie, remember the game,” I whispered, the words rushing out in a tight, breathless crack. “Keep the wolf inside. We have to be invisible. What happens if the bad hunters see the silver?”

Leo blinked, his deep laughter dying instantly. His pupils dilated until his eyes flashed a vivid, regal gold. He took a sharp, choppy breath, forcing the immense power back down. The midnight fur receded, and his ears melted back into normal, soft human skin.

The tension rushed out of me all at once, leaving my limbs weak.

“Sorry, Mommy,” he mumbled, his lower lip quivering as he looked down at his lap, his small shoulders tensing at my reaction. “I forgot. I got too happy.”

“It’s okay, my brave little knight,” I murmured, pressing a fierce, lingering kiss to his warm forehead, though cold sweat was already breaking out across the back of my neck. “Just remember, we keep our magic locked up tight. Always.”

“Okay, Mommy. I promise to be careful.”

I smiled at him, gently ruffling his hair as I stood up, a lingering tremor in my knees. “I know, my little pup. I know.”

I looked over and noticed Snow cradling the unfinished wooden wolf in both hands, turning it slowly, studying every groove with the careful seriousness only a five-year-old can manage.

“Mommy, this is not complete yet, right?” she asked, tilting her head.

I nodded, forcing my voice to remain steady. “Yes, baby. Keep it safe for now, and I’ll give it to you as soon as I finish it. Now, who wants some honey cakes and warm tea?”

Their eyes lit up instantly at the treat. “I want some, Mommy!”

I walked over to the hearth to check the hot tea, just to give my trembling hands something to do.

As the kettle whistled softly, a knot tightened in my throat. I had given birth to them alone. I didn’t have a midwife or even a fire to keep us warm. It was just a freezing cave with black stone walls, and the sound of my own voice breaking in the dark. I screamed into the emptiness and held onto nothing, with no promise that any of us would make it through the night alive.

And then, between one contraction and the next, something ancient cracked open inside my chest like a door that had been sealed shut my entire life. Power. Old, enormous, and entirely unasked for.

I had spent twenty years believing I was the weakest thing in the Nightclaw pack. Believing Dave when his eyes told me I was nothing. But in that cave, drenched in blood and completely alone, I learned the truth that would have changed everything if only I had known it sooner. I was not an Omega. I was the thing Omegas were afraid of.

But my blood carried a price, and ever since the twins turned three, I could barely keep what they were hidden from the world.

I turned slightly to watch Leo and Snow. Some mornings, I still caught myself staring at them like they were a mistake the universe might correct—too much goodness landed in the hands of someone who had nothing. But they were mine. Every stubborn, brilliant, dangerous inch of them. And I would burn this entire forest down before I let anyone take them from me.

“Careful, Leo, don’t knock over the…” I paused as the air completely died around the cabin.

The warmth from the stone hearth didn’t just fade. It was snuffed out. Frost crept across the windowpanes, turning the glass cloudy and opaque. The scent of pine and lavender vanished beneath something thick and suffocating.

A massive wave of Alpha pressure slammed into the cabin, heavy enough to make the thick timber ceiling beams groan under the weight.

No one ever came this deep into the woods except Jasper, a trusted friend from the village. In five years, no one had ever invaded our sanctuary. And no ordinary wolf could produce an aura this devastatingly powerful.

My blood ran cold as the familiar smell and aura flooded my senses.

Forest fire and crushed mint.

Every single muscle in my spine turned to stone. The wooden teacup slid straight from my frozen hand, shattering loudly against the floorboards, but I couldn’t even bring myself to look down at the mess.

Deep inside my chest, the broken mate bond came alive again. It flared with an agonizing, blinding heat, a phantom thread snapping taut and pulling so violently it made me gasp out loud. My lungs refused to expand; the air felt like lead. The mutated resonance of the rejection bond screamed through my nerve endings, a toxic, burning pain that could only mean one thing.

Dave. He was here.