CHAPTER 5: She's not Your She-wolf anymore

"Shut up, Robert!" Kaelen barked, throwing his hand up to cut the old man off before another useless warning could leave his lips. "I don't give a damn about your old legends or your council politics! Vesper is mine. She has been mine for three years, and she isn't going anywhere!"

Elder Robert opened his mouth, his face pale with horror as he tried to speak again. "Kaelen, listen to me—"

"I said shut up!" Kaelen’s voice thundered off the high arches, his Alpha aura flaring so violently that the councilors behind Robert staggered back, clutching their chests.

Kaelen didn't wait to hear another word. He turned his back on the cold, dark altar and stormed out of the Sacred Den, his heavy leather boots pounding against the stone floor.

He was done listening. Everyone in this pack was panicking over nothing.

Vesper was angry, sure. She had a right to be annoyed that he stepped away from the altar for twenty minutes. But this whole routine—cutting the link, signing land reclamation papers, walking toward the border—was just a dramatic display. A tactic to force him onto his knees. She wanted him to beg. She wanted him to prove how much he needed her.

Well, Kaelen thought, a dark, possessive grin tugging at the corner of his mouth as he barged into the courtyard, I’ll give her what she wants. I’ll track her down, pull her into my arms, kiss her until she forgets this stupid stunt, and bring her home.

"Knox!" Kaelen roared into the midnight air.

Knox sprinted out from the guardhouse, three squad leaders trailing right behind him. "Alpha! What are your orders?"

"Get six of our best trackers on the northern gate," Kaelen commanded, tearing off his heavy ceremonial cloak and tossing it to a nearby guard. "We’re running her trail down before she hits the high pass."

Knox blinked, looking visibly uneasy. "Alpha... the high pass leads directly into neutral territory. The Lycan boundary wards start right past the ridge—"

"I don't care if she ran into the mouth of a volcano," Kaelen snapped, his silver eyes flashing with unyielding command. "She isn't crossing that border without me. Shift and move!"

Without waiting for his men, Kaelen surged forward into the courtyard. His spine cracked, his muscles expanded, and within a single breath, his human form dissolved into a massive, midnight-black wolf. He threw his head back and let out a long, deafening howl that echoed across the entire valley—an Alpha’s summons, demanding his she-wolf return to the pack.

He waited five seconds, expecting to feel her wolf whine in submission somewhere out in the dark forest.

Silence.

A sharp, ugly knot of irritation twisted in Kaelen’s stomach.

Fine, his wolf growled internally. We do this the hard way.

Kaelen bounded over the outer courtyard wall, his heavy black paws tearing through the deep snow as he bolted toward the northern perimeter. Knox and the six trackers shifted behind him, their dark silhouettes weaving through the pine trees like a hunting pack.

The scent trail was fresh.

Even through the crisp night air, Kaelen caught it instantly—pure frost, crushed winter-berries, and the faint, sweet trace of her skin. It was so strong it practically burned his nose.

She isn't even hiding her tracks, Kaelen thought with a wave of arrogant relief. She wants me to catch her.

He pushed his legs faster, his massive lungs pumping heavy white steam into the freezing night. The trees blurred past them as they ascended the steep, rocky slope leading up toward the Blackwood Pass.

Ten minutes. Fifteen minutes.

The scent grew stronger with every leap. They were closing in. Kaelen’s heart pounded with a sudden surge of triumph. He could already picture her standing on the rocky ridge ahead, wrapped in her dark cloak, waiting for him to pull her back into his pack. He would scold her for making a scene, hug her tight, and take her straight back to his bed.

The hunting pack crested the final snow-covered ridge.

"There!" Knox growled through the mind-link, pointing his dark snout toward a clearing twenty yards ahead.

Kaelen slammed his paws into the snow, coming to a sudden halt at the edge of the treeline.

In the middle of the moonlit clearing stood a single, tall figure wrapped in a dark travel cloak. Her long, dark hair blew across her face in the mountain wind, and the silver hilt of her hunting blade gleamed against her thigh.

Vesper.

Kaelen felt a massive weight lift off his chest. A smug, satisfied purr vibrated deep within his wolf’s throat. He knew it. He knew she wouldn't actually leave.

His body cracked and shifted back into his human form. Kaelen stepped out of the shadows, wiping the frost from his jaw as he walked toward her with slow, confident strides.

"You really made a mess down there, Vesper," Kaelen said, his voice laced with a cocky, scolding warmth. "Robert is losing his mind. The council is in tears. You had everyone thinking you actually walked away from me."

Vesper didn't turn around right away. She kept her back to him, staring out at the jagged, snow-capped peaks of the Savage Wastes in the distance.

Kaelen stopped five feet behind her, reaching out a hand to grab her shoulder. "Come on. Playtime is over. Sienna is stabilized, and I’m ready to head back. We can finish the ceremony privately in my room—"

"Don't touch me, Kaelen."

Her voice was utterly devoid of emotion. No anger. No tears. No heartbreak. It was just a flat, icy wall that stopped Kaelen’s hand mid-air.

Kaelen’s brows pulled together, his warmth instantly souring into annoyance. "Vesper, drop the attitude. I ran ten miles through the snow to come get you! I left Sienna’s bedside the second the doctor said she was okay! What more do you want from me?!"

Vesper slowly turned around to face him.

The moonlight caught her eyes, and Kaelen’s breath caught in his throat.

There was no pain in her gray eyes. There was no desperate search for his love, no lingering warmth from the three years they had shared. She looked at him the exact same way she looked at the rogue corpses on the battlefield—like something dirty she needed to wipe off the bottom of her boot.

"I didn't ask you to follow me," Vesper said quietly.

"You left a trail a blind pup could follow!" Kaelen scoffed, crossing his arms. "You practically begged me to track you!"

"I didn't leave a trail for you," Vesper replied, a faint, cold smile touching her lips. "I left it so your trackers would know exactly where the Bloodmoon Pack’s authority ends."

She stepped back, planting her boot firmly across a thick, rusted iron chain embedded in the snow—the ancient border marker separating the southern territories from the Savage Wastes.

"You're standing on neutral ground, Kaelen," Vesper said. "Go back to your little she-wolf. She’s probably crying for another band-aid."

Kaelen’s jaw tightened, his temper exploding. "That's enough! You are my betrothed, and you are coming back to the pack house right now!"

He lunged forward, reaching out to grab her arm by force.

He never touched her.

Out of the pitch-black canopy above, a sound erupted that made Kaelen’s blood instantly freeze in his veins—a deep, terrifying, guttural roar that vibrated the very marrow of his bones.

A massive, shadowy figure dropped from the trees like a falling mountain, landing directly between Kaelen and Vesper with an earth-shattering crash.

The shockwave blasted snow into Kaelen’s face, forcing him and his trackers to stumble back three steps.

When the snow cleared, Kaelen looked up—and felt every drop of air leave his lungs.

Standing in front of Vesper was a man built like a titan, draped in heavy black wolf furs and battle-scarred iron armor. Crimson eyes—glowing with the ancient, terrifying heat of pureblood Lycan royalty—glared down at Kaelen through the night.

Lycan King Lucian.

Lucian didn't draw a sword. He simply stood there, towering over six feet four, his lethal Alpha pressure rolling off him in suffocating, crushing waves that forced Kaelen’s six trackers down onto their knees in the snow.

Lucian slowly raised his right hand, resting his large, scarred fingers lightly on Vesper’s shoulder in a lazy, possessive hold.

And on his pinky finger, glowing bright against his dark skin, was Vesper’s red Frost-Rune signet ring.

Lucian looked down at Kaelen, his lips curving into a slow, terrifying, predatory grin that exposed sharp, gleaming fangs.

"You're barking at the wrong door, little Alpha," Lucian rasped, his voice vibrating through the frozen ground. "She isn't your she-wolf anymore."