C5

"Are you going to keep haunting that basin, Ebu? The sun hasn't even crested the spires of Valemont."

"I'm fine, Helena. Just... the mountain air isn't agreeing with me this morning."

"We're werewolves, little brother. We don't get 'mountain sickness.' You smell like distress and sour bile. Did you eat something silver-laced at that tavern?"

"No. I just need a minute. My wolf is... restless. My skin feels too tight."

"You haven't been the same since that transport ride. If I didn't know better, I’d say you were pining for that Northern stranger. Get your head on straight. We have a legacy to reclaim."

"I'm trying. Just stay off the link for a second. I need silence."

The nausea doesn't just whisper; it roars.

I barely make it to the porcelain, my knees hitting the stone floor of the Ashbourne Ridge flat with a jarring thud. I heave until my throat burns, my claws digging into the grout as I gasp for air. Sweat coats my forehead, and my vision swims in the dim pre-dawn light.

It’s just the change in the moon cycle, I tell myself. Or the raw stag meat from the market.

But my wolf knows. He’s silent, curled in the back of my mind, protective and heavy. My chest feels sensitive, my senses are dialed to an unbearable eleven, and yesterday I nearly took a man’s throat out because he stepped too close to me in the Blood Archives.

"No," I rasp, my voice cracking in the empty bathroom. "It’s impossible. He didn't... we didn't..."

But Northern Alphas are different. Their virility is legend, their knots designed to ensure a bloodline continues even in a storm.

I reach into my pack and pull out an apothecary vial—a Lunar Insight charm. It’s meant for high-ranking pack matrons, but I’d swiped it from the Moonveil Medical Fortress "just in case." I prick my finger with a silver needle and drop a single bead of blood into the shimmering liquid.

I watch, heart hammering against my ribs, as the clear fluid turns a deep, pulsing amber. The color of a high-born Alpha’s eyes. The color of Ifu’s eyes.

"Ancestors save me," I whisper, sinking back against the cold wall.

The vial doesn't lie. I’m carrying. A single encounter in a transit chamber at thirty thousand feet, and the Okoye bloodline has taken root in my womb.

Panic claws at my throat. Not because I’m a male—in the high-magic circles of the Northern Dominion, male-bearing is rare but respected—but because I don’t have a pack. I’m a rogue Adeyemi carrying a prince of the Okoye Moon Dominion.

Then, the anger flares. Ifu. He took what he wanted and vanished into the Valemont fog. He didn't leave a name, didn't leave a mark, just a seed that was now rewriting my DNA.

I will do this alone, I resolve, my hand subconsciously moving to my flat stomach. This pup will know the Adeyemi name, not the Okoye shadow.

I pull myself up, splashing cold water on my face. My reflection looks different. Sharper. More predatory. I’m no longer just a researcher; I’m a protector.

I move to my data-slate, intent on erasing my trail, when a notification pings. A high-priority missive from the Moon Dominion Tower.

Subject: Appointment Decree – Obsidian Claw Holdings

I stare at the runes, my breath hitching.

Master Adeyemi,

Your presence in Valemont has not gone unnoticed. Your academic prowess at the Silvermoon Heights and your recent inquiries at the Archives suggest a mind far too sharp for the Shadowclaw District. We are offering you a position as Chief Blood Archivist for the Okoye Estate.

Compensation: 110,000 Silver Credits, full sanctuary within Shadowfang Manor, and protection under the Northern Law.

Report to the Moon Dominion Tower at sunset for your induction. Failure to attend will be viewed as an act of hostility against the Territory.

Signed, Ifu Okoye, Alpha Prime.

The slate nearly slips from my numb fingers.

How? I hadn't used my real name. I hadn't left a scent trail. But he knew. He’d known from the moment we met. The "chance" encounter on the transport wasn't chance at all. It was a hunt.

I look at the amber fluid in the vial, then at the summons.

My parents were purged by the Obsidian Claw. The man who sired the pup inside me is the very Alpha who now demands my service. If I go, I’m walking into the den of the beast that killed my legacy. If I stay, they’ll hunt me until there’s nothing left.

I reach out, my finger hovering over the acceptance rune. My heart is a frantic drum, the scent of cedar and leather seemingly filling the room even though I’m alone.

"You want the last Adeyemi in your tower, Ifu?" I whisper, my eyes flashing amber in the dark. "Fine. But you have no idea what I'm bringing with me."

I press the rune.

Accepted.