LAILA’S POVI clung to the shadows, my fingers brushing the rough brick as I edged closer to the training grounds. The voices of two guards reached me, their words sharp, laced with something ugly."She’s not going to last long in there."The first guard spat on the ground, his boot scuffing dirt as he leaned against a crate of rusted weapons. His face was hard, unfeeling. "You saw what Alpha Grayson did to the last girl who tried to run."The second guard—taller, with a jagged scar running down his jaw—let out a low, humorless laugh. "She’s not just any girl. She’s the one from Shadow Moon. The white wolf." He lowered his voice, but I caught every word, each one like ice sliding down my spine. "Grayson has plans for her—dark ones."My breath hitched.Karen. She was really here—and in trouble. And she wasn’t just a prisoner. She was prey.The guards moved off, their laughter grating against my skull. I waited until their footsteps faded before slipping deeper into the heart of the com
LAILA’S POVThe woods were too quiet. Not the peaceful kind of quiet—the kind that makes your skin crawl, like the whole forest was holding its breath. No birds chirping. No squirrels rustling leaves. Just… nothing. Like even the animals knew to stay the hell away from this place.I pressed my back against an old oak tree, the bark digging into my shoulders through my thin shirt. My heart was doing a damn tap dance in my chest—thump-thump-thump—so loud I swore the guards patrolling ahead could hear it.Get it together, Laila. Breathe.I squeezed my eyes shut for half a second, nails biting into my palms. The smell hit me again—wet dirt, rotting leaves, and underneath it… her. Karen’s scent was faint, like someone had dabbed a drop of perfume in a sewer, but it was there. Honey and wildflowers, just like Jackson had always described it.You’re close. Keep moving.I’d been tracking her since midnight, moving like a ghost. Step when the wind howled. Freeze when it died. My boots were soa
I didn’t sleep again after the nightmare. I just sat there, staring out the window, waiting for dawn to come like it might bring some sort of clarity—some kind of peace. But as the first rays of sunlight bled across the horizon, all I felt was rage. A deep, burning rage that simmered just beneath my skin.A knock came at my door just after sunrise. Before I could answer, it creaked open, and Liam stepped inside, his face pale and drawn. He didn’t have to say a word.“They’re back,” he said quietly.I was already up, brushing past him without a word, heading for the war room where my father and the others had likely gathered. My feet moved fast, but my mind was already racing ahead.Please let her be okay. Please tell me she’s alive.The door swung open before I even reached for the handle, and there stood one of the spies—Samir—covered in dust and sweat, his eyes heavy with something I recognized instantly: guilt.I stepped inside. My father looked up from his seat, his expression gra
JACKSON’S POVI couldn’t sit at that table a second longer. The weight in my chest had grown unbearable—like something primal clawing at the inside of my ribs, desperate to break free. I stood abruptly, muttering something about needing air, and walked out the back door before anyone could stop me.The night was quiet, but I wasn’t. My wolf paced under my skin like a caged beast, restless and enraged. He was done waiting. Done holding back. He wanted her—and every second she remained away from us, his fury grew louder.She should be here. With me. Not trapped in that hellhole.I stepped into the woods, stripping off my shirt and tossing it aside. Boots crunched over leaves and twigs as I made my way deeper into the forest. And then I let go.The shift came fast, wild—bones cracking and reforming as fur replaced skin and paws met earth. My wolf let out a long, guttural growl before taking off into the night like a silver bullet loosed from a gun.He ran hard—faster than I ever had as a
JACKSON’S POVThe walls of my room felt like they were closing in, pressing against my ribs with every ragged breath I took. My boots thudded against the hardwood floor—back and forth, back and forth—the rhythm of a predator trapped in a cage.My wolf snarled beneath my skin, claws raking against my insides, demanding blood, demanding her. Karen.The moment she stepped foot back into Blue Cross territory, something inside me snapped. I told her not to go. I begged her. But she had that stubborn set to her jaw, that fire in her eyes—the same fire that made me fall for her in the first damn place."I have to do this, Jackson." Her voice echoed in my skull, soft but unyielding. "For your father. For the cure."And now she was gone.My phone was in my hand before I even realized I’d grabbed it. I hit her number—again—knowing full well what would happen.One ring. Two. Then—"The person you are trying to reach—"I crushed the phone in my grip, the plastic casing cracking under the pressure.
KAREN’S POVThe second Alpha Grayson’s voice cut through the darkness, my blood turned to ice in my veins.No. No no no—He stood silhouetted in the moonlight, his massive frame blocking our escape path. But he wasn’t alone. From the shadows beside him, Alex materialized like a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from. His face was blank, empty—like he was just waiting for orders.Then I saw the third figure step forward.Noah.My stomach dropped straight to my feet.Please, please not him."Please," I begged, my voice cracking as I shoved Salma behind me. My hands were shaking so badly I could barely keep them raised. "Just let us go. Whatever you want—money, information, anything—I’ll give it to you. Just don’t—"Grayson’s laugh was like gravel in a steel drum. "Let you go?" His obsidian eyes gleamed under the moonlight, completely unmoved by my terror. "Karen, darling, we’re just getting started. How could I possibly let you leave now?"Salma’s fingers dug into my wrist hard enough to bru
KAREN’S POVTime blurred. Seconds or minutes—I couldn’t tell. My body still trembled, my fingers digging into the edge of the bed like it was the only thing anchoring me to reality. The walls pressed in, the air thick with the scent of old wood and something metallic—fear, maybe. My own.I swallowed hard, forcing my gaze toward the journal—the one I’d risked everything for.This is it. The cure. The reason I came.My fingers brushed the worn leather cover, the texture familiar beneath my touch. It still carried the faintest trace of lavender and ink—Mom’s scent. A wave of grief hit me so hard my chest ached. I clutched it to me, squeezing my eyes shut for just a second before forcing them open again.No time. No time for this.I flipped through the pages, my pulse roaring in my ears. Her handwriting—so precise, so her—filled every line. Notes on herbs, moon cycles, healing rituals. And then, there it was.The Cure.A shaky breath escaped me. I found it. Xavier can be saved. But as I t
KAREN’S POVThe silence after Alex left was deafening—thick, suffocating, pressing against my eardrums like a living thing. The sharp click of the door locking behind him echoed in my skull, each reverberation a cruel reminder of how trapped I was.I pressed my back harder into the cold stone wall, the rough surface biting into my skin even through my clothes. My knees were pulled tight against my chest, arms wrapped around them like a shield. As if I could protect myself from what was coming.Thud. Thud. Thud.His footsteps faded down the hall, slow and deliberate, like he wanted me to hear him leave. Wanted me to know I was alone.And then—nothing.Just the sound of my own ragged breathing, too loud in the suffocating quiet. I lifted my head, eyes scanning the room again. Four walls. One door. No windows. No escape. The dim light from the flickering bulb overhead cast long, jagged shadows, stretching like claws across the floor.What does his father want with me?The thought slither
ALEX’S POVThe chair groaned beneath me as I leaned back, the old wood creaking like a warning. My fingers drummed against the armrest, slow and deliberate, matching the steady thrum of my pulse.Across the dimly lit room, Karen sat bound to a metal chair, her wrists raw from struggling against the ropes. The scent of sweat and iron clung to the air—her defiance, her fear.Her head was high, though. Always high. Even now.I smirked, tilting my chin as I studied her. The flickering overhead light cast shadows across her face, highlighting the bruise forming on her cheekbone. Her chest rose and fell too fast, her breaths shallow, but her eyes—those damn eyes—still burned with the same fire.Still fighting. Still refusing to break.“You really thought you could sneak in and out of my territory without me knowing?” My voice was smooth, almost amused.She didn’t flinch. Just lifted her chin higher, lips pressing into a thin, bloody line. “Jackson will come for me.”A laugh rumbled deep in