Roland's POV~My arms rested on a jagged splintered post, my body shaking with exhaustion, silver poison from the Alpha’s claw burning through me, eating away at my strength, my gray wolf sluggish and stirring within me, growling its resolve to fight. Julian was there, sprawled on a cot beside me, his chest rising, fragile breaths, the healer saving his life after his heart had stopped, gray eyes half open, clouded with agony and guilt, somehow still alive, a miracle I held onto like a lifeline in a storm. The Alpha’s path was savage and one now of instinct, leading away from the camp, its feral scent of blood reaching a Silver Veil lab buried deep in the frost-crusted Vellex woods, a fortress of secrets that fed the monster who had been born of Elara and Lyra’s twin blood, the nightmare we’d all brought into this world. Elara and Damien’s connection, their silent faith that I’d seen practiced in the safehouse, their joined hands, was a lighthouse in my thoughts, a picture of love th
Damien’s POV~The Vellex safehouse stood like a ruined lighthouse in the frozen depths of the woods, rotting wooden walls eyeing under a cruel noonday frost, the air itself tasting thickly of pine and the bitter, coin-like tang of Lyra’s blood that stained my hands, a grim reminder of the Alpha’s savagery. Her soft frame was in my arms as I carried her through the door- her chest nearly ripped open from the werewolf’s claws, breaths shallow, uneven, her hazel eyes sliding shut, barely holding on, my heart strumming a wild, primal terror with every fragile heartbeat of hers. Elara held my arm, her touch warm, steady—not love, but connection, a lifeline for the storm, her hazel eyes meeting mine, thrusting me deeper into the mate bond, a small but fierce fire against the endless night. The Alpha’s scent — wild, mindless, a monstrous thing of Elara and Lyra’s twin blood — drew near, the howls of it shaking the frost-cloaked pines, a remorseless hunter let loose upon us from Vellex’s fore
Lyra’s POV~I stood in the dim lantern-lit room with my shoulder burning under its bandages, the days-old blade from the Bloodhound scout’s grip a dull, constant throb, my hazel eyes flashing like the fierce, restless throb of my awakened wolf, its power echoing Elara’s, my twin, the mirror of my soul, the sister I had only recently found and would do anything to keep. Traversing the threadbare wooden floor in little more than a playful parry, swinging lightly with a training blade, her auburn hair dancing in the shimmer of the lantern’s golden light, her hazel eyes alight with a resolve that flickered against her weariness, her laughter a rare and transient sound that would warm my heart like nothing else could muster. Damien was pacing along the wall beside me, his dark eyes growing soft as he looked at her; his love—gentle, devoted, strong—was a thread of light through the darkness; our mate bonds a constant flame through the turmoil; it gave me courage; an ideal of love I’d destro
Sabrina’s POV~My breath came in pained gasps, my legs aching as I stumbled from Rosa’s blade, its silver brightness still etched into my thoughts, cold, gray eyes that promised the end for my treachery, the punishment I deserved for defying Silver Veil. My hair was tangled and matted with sweat and blood, a shallow graze down my cheek, something I sustained while escaping, green eyes darting through shadows as I searched for the faint glow of the safehouse where Elara and her pack were staying. The Alpha’s feral reek, wild and biting, a monstrous power, born of Elara and Lyra’s twin blood, hung in the forest; its presence pulsed in my desperation, but Elara and Damien’s bond, the silent strength I’d seen in a scrap of moments near their camp, was my lighthouse, a vision of trust and love I yearned to claim, a redemption for my sins. My history with Silver Veil, my time as “Phase Catalyst,” was a stain of treachery, my betrayal of Caspian—delivering him to Rosa’s machinations—a sin I
Jasmine's POV~The Vellex safehouse was a cracked stronghold, its aged wood creaking against the frigid clutch of gray dawn, the sky heavy with the tang of frost and the faint copper scent of blood that clung to my bandages, a bitter testament to the fights we’d survived. I stood next to the creaking door, the arm into which the sniper’s bullet had stung in the woods red between the flesh of my forearm and sleeve, the wound open but not deep, with my auburn hair untidy, sweat-filled, my brown eyes taking in the narrow space, the cold steel of the knife clutched there keeping me steady. Elara rested on a rickety cot opposite me, fixing Damien with her hazel eyes, the silent faith they shared—a look, a fleeting touch of his hand on her arm—an encouragement to my courage, their mate bond a flame that heated the curtain-shadowed, winter-cold room, a brightness that drove out the dark that seemed ready to engulf us. Lyra layover there, a bandage tight around her shoulder, her cheeks draine
Roland's POV~His chest rose with a weak, irregular rhythm, sparked again by the healer’s frantic fingers after his heart had stopped, and his gray eyes, half-lidded, clouded with the pain of the silver blade that had nearly taken him from the chaos of our camp stared back at me. The camp wasn’t diminished, a mere shadow of its former strength, the collapse of the ritual labs taking half our number away, fifty wolves went to the fire and the steel of the enemy, their blood bereaving me, a wound that bled my resolve, but Julian’s continued life was my life, a spark that fed my rage and my desperate hope. But the Alpha’s bellows sounded again, raw and guttural, pealing from the frost-bitten forests of Vellex, the stench of it—a wild smell, an essence of blood and earth—nearer, a creature spawned from the blood thrums of Elara and Lyra themselves that would rend my pack asunder. Elara and Damien shared a bond, a strength that wasn’t loud and destructive like the others in the safehouse o