(Almira’s POV)Beta Mid and I don’t have to think hard to know what the hell is going on right now. These rogues have attacked the guards that we assigned to post on the border.The scent of blood fills the air as we prepare ourselves for a gruesome fight against them. I’m sure they’re thinking that we are their next meal."Alpha, run!" Beta Mid shouted. "I'll distract them."I whipped my head towards him. Run? I can’t do that to him. He can’t fight them all by himself. "No! I'm not leaving you to fight them alone,” I refused firmly. He looked at me worriedly, but my eyes were already blazing in defiance.“Rghhhh!!!”There's no time to argue.The rogues with bared teeth and wild eyes lunged into thin air. Beta Mid shifted instantly into his wolf form. A black and powerful wolf stood against the moonlight. He charged forward, slamming into the first rogue with bone-crushing force.The sounds of their skin tearing made my ears itch.I watched him fight—five against one. He’s skilled, fa
(Lysander’s POV)“WHAT?!” I frantically reacted when I found out that Almira went to the woods without me this morning.I literally just got back from dropping Rachelle back to the City. I’m done with her watching me like a dog. There's no way I can do my job properly if she’s here making this complicated.The Beta lowered his head. “I’m sorry, Alpha. We told her to wait for you, but she insisted on going alone.”“Fuck!” I cursed.I frustratingly threaded my fingers through my hair.I just handled Rachelle for the night, and then I will find out that she leaves this morning to do a very dangerous task all by herself?We barely made it out alive last time!“She’s not exactly alone, Alpha,” one of the werewolves said. I angrily glanced at him. What the fuck does he mean? “Beta Mid came with her. He said that he would escort Alpha Almira to the woods.”Beta Mid did that?What he should have done was stop her. I left him here to make sure that Almira would be safe. Why the hell would he b
(Third Person’s POV)In the middle of the woods, a lone cabin stays warm and protected from the powers of a small little girl named Almira.She is the cursed kid of Helawes who destroyed the Silverwood Pack to ashes eight years ago.The wicked witch wanted her revenge after being rejected by Alpha Frederico whom she fancy so much. But the man loved another, so she used her dark powers to curse their unborn child.However, Alpha Sylvia was able to reverse the curse using an ancient ritual that cost them to lose their own werewolf abilities.But what they didn't expect is Almira’s special ability to heal and shield. As a werewolf, this is a rare occurrence that is usually associated with the white magic—something that should have been long gone centuries ago.“Almira?” Alpha Sylvia called out from the kitchen. She just tasted her soup, and it still lacks something.Maybe her little Almira could help her.The little girl who was playing with the rabbits got up from the ground to run back
(Almira’s POV)What… What are those memories?The forest, the cabin… the little boy.It felt like I just went on a trip inside my head. Memories I don’t even know existed. I don’t remember those. Where was I at that time? I saw my Mom and Dad… but who was that kid?Why did I save him?“It’s you, right?” Lysander confronted, pulling me back to my senses.He gave me a stern stare as if he’s not taking a “no” for an answer. I looked him in the eyes, confused by the words he’s saying. Is he talking about that memory I just flashed back into my eyes?“You saved me from the wild rogues in the forest. You used your powers to shield me from them. You healed my woun–”“Argh!” I groaned when I suddenly felt a throbbing pain inside my head.It was so sharp that it made me lose my balance.Lysander quickly caught me before my knees could touch the ground.“Almira!” he blurted. “What’s happening? What’s hurting you?”I feel like my brain is being electrocuted. It’s burning! It hurts!“ALMIRA?!” he
(Rich’s POV)Private tutoring? On Saturday?I know that I don’t have children, but I’ve been sending the twins to school their whole lives. I know that it’s the adults who make the decisions whether the students who are the same age as Hazel and Asher should get private tutoring.I glanced across the room where the closed door of the study room is standing across from me.I’m currently in the kitchen, washing the dishes that I used to make pancakes. The clatter of plates and running water barely masked the uneasy feeling in my gut. That new male teacher is at our house, and I don't feel comfortable with him here.I know the twins are pushing for his "private tutoring" so he stays, but it never sits well with me.I don’t know.Something just feels off about him…Even when the kids like him so much.After finishing a plate, I decided to check on them in the study room. There’s just no way I can function properly knowing that there’s a stranger in the house. I headed upstairs and tried t
(Almira’s POV)“Arghmmm…” I opened my eyes and the first thing I saw were the branches of trees clumping above me.Where am I?The last thing I remember was talking to Lysander and then—I glanced around the place.Everything is clear yet strangely enchanting. I sit up slowly and look around. "Where am I?" I asked aloud. The trees are tall and the air here is cool and fresh.What is this place?Where are Lysander, Mid, and the Pack Healer?Did I die?I stood up and began to walk along a narrow path. My mind is buzzing with questions, but I’m trying so hard to make sense of everything.Suddenly I heard a distant voice calling my name."Almira... Almira..."Who’s that?I followed the sound until I came to a gentle stream. The water glimmers in the faint moonlight as it flows over smooth stones.Then, a firefly caught my attention. It’s a lonely one. But its light is enough to astonish me. It flew around me, like it was telling me to follow it deeper to the forest.“Maybe you can guide m
(Almira’s POV)I slowly looked up to the man who’s sitting across from me. His face spells pure worry that you wouldn’t believe that he dared to go behind my back. I can’t believe it.I can’t believe that I almost fell for his tricks again.While I’m here risking my life just to save his pack, he had already sent someone to spy on my kids.Just how on Earth could he look me straight in the eye, while betraying me at the same time?He’s impossible.I glared at him. "How could you, Lysander? How could you send someone to spy on my kids?!" I shouted, my voice trembling with anger. I regret coming here.I should have known better given our past.Lysander frowned with fake confusion. He seemed to be genuinely clueless, but then his eyes went down to the message I received from Rich proving his betrayal. His expression immediately changed into guilt and regret. "Almira, I—" he started, but I cut him off with a sharp slap that made him turn the other side.*PAKKKK!!!*"You never learn, do yo
(Almira’s POV)After my heated argument with Lysander earlier, he finally decided that it’s best to give me some time alone in my room. He tried to get one female Omega to assist me, but I firmly refused.I know he’s just worried that I haven't fully recovered from what happened to me. I know they're still confused why I suddenly passed out.But I can't bear to face him or any of his people right now.I feel like I’m just talking to one of his snitches.I shut the door behind me, pressing my back against it as I clutched my phone tightly. The memory of Rich’s last message sent chills down my spine. I feel my anger coming back.My hands are shaking.I’m still anxious from my argument with Lysander, but that’s not what has me on edge now. It’s what Rich just told me.The twins.I had no idea that Lysander was already working behind my back to get to them. And for what? For his stupid DNA test. He’s not really going to stop until he gets them from me.Without wasting another second, I di
(Almira’s POV)The night smelled of blood.Not wolf blood. Not human either.Magic.Ancient. Rotted. Old as the bones buried beneath this cursed land.I crouched low against the balcony stone, my hand wrapped tightly around the dagger hilt strapped to my thigh. The wind tore at my cloak as voices rose below — one I knew like the rhythm of my own breath.Lysander.And the other?Sweet. Sultry. Pretending to purr even now, even with the scent of death hanging in the air.Rachelle.I should’ve known. I *did* know. Every inch of my body had screamed it from the moment she looked at Hazel and Asher like they were keys instead of children. But I needed proof. Not just instinct. Not just rage.And tonight, I had it.I watched them through the cracked marble archway. Lysander stood stiffly, shoulders taut, his silver blade slick with fresh blood — not his own. The scent was still risi
(Hazel's POV)The honey cakes taste too sweet. Like they’re trying to cover something up.I chew slow, just like Mama told me—never trust sweetness too fast. Especially from someone who talks too soft and smiles too much. I keep my eyes half-closed, the way wolves do when they’re watching something dangerous.Rachelle’s voice is like syrup, sticky and fake. “I want to help you, Hazel. You and your brother. I want to teach you how not to be controlled.”I blink at her.That word. *Controlled*. I don’t like it. It sounds like cages and chains and being told what to do with the thing that burns under my skin. I don’t know what I am yet—but I know I’m not a tool. And neither is Asher.She leans closer, like she thinks we’re sharing secrets now. “People are always scared of what they can’t control. Even your mother.”I sit up straighter. “My mom&rsquo
(Rachelle’s POV)Later that eveningThe night is soft and heavy with the scent of pine and late-blooming jasmine. The wind hums outside my window, stirring the curtains like a lullaby. It should be calming.But I’m wired.Because they didn’t push me away today.Hazel didn’t glare as hard. Asher actually asked me a question. It was small, meaningless to someone who doesn’t know what to listen for—but to me? It was everything.“Can you do magic too?”A casual question from a curious boy, sure. But it meant he was wondering. Wondering if he could learn something from me. Wondering if I had answers that no one else had given him. And most of all—if I was different from the grown-ups who only saw his power as something to control.That’s how it starts.It always starts with wonder.Hazel, though… Hazel is different.She’s the hard one. Not
(Hazel’s POV)That night, I didn’t sleep.The cake Rachelle brought was still sitting on my windowsill, getting all stale and sticky. I didn’t even take a bite. I just looked at it, trying to decide if it smelled weird. It didn’t. But it still made my stomach feel funny.Not the cake.Her.I curled under my blanket and hugged Bramble, my stuffed bear. I told Mom I was too big for him now, but I wasn’t ready to let him go. Bramble didn’t judge me when I was scared, or when I had to think real hard like tonight. He just stayed.“She’s not like the others,” I whispered to him.He didn’t answer, but I pretended he was listening.Rachelle’s eyes were too shiny when she smiled. Not in a nice way, like Mom’s when we do something good. No, it was the kind of shiny that hides sharp things. Like when a fox pretends to be a friend.I touched the charm she gave
(Rachelle's POV)Hazel is quiet the rest of the visit, but she doesn’t push me away.She watches. Listens. And when I say I should get going, she stands and walks me to the door."Will you come back tomorrow?" she asks, her voice feather-light, almost fragile.I blink, surprised. “If you’d like me to.”She nods slowly. “I think I would.”And just like that, I win a sliver of trust. Or so I think.Or so I believe.The next day, I return with more treats—berry tarts this time, and a little charm I enchanted myself, something subtle. A protection token. Fake, of course, but believable enough for a child.Hazel accepts it without a word. But when I sit across from her, I notice something... off.She’s smiling.It’s small. Barely there. But it’s a real smile. And it’s not for me—it’s for herself.“Do you like ridd
(Rachelle’s POV)Reginald is an idiot.A powerful idiot, yes—but still an idiot. He thinks I’m working for him. Thinks I’m here to win *his* little power struggle against Almira. He thinks I’m just a jealous mate, clinging to my position and my unborn child like it's all I’ve got.He has no idea.As I leave his office, I let my expression shift slowly back into a soft, concerned smile—just enough for the omegas walking by to see. I even rub my stomach as I pass them. Let them think I’m maternal. Harmless. That’s how you survive in a world of wolves.You act like the sheep.But I’m not here to be Reginald’s puppet or Almira’s shadow. I’m here for the twins.Hazel and Asher.I saw them once—just a glimpse—when Almira brought them inside. Hazel’s eyes locked on mine for barely two seconds, but I felt it. Raw energy. Magic that made the hairs on my arms rise.They're different.And I want them.Not because they’re cute or royal or whatever Reginald imagines. No, I want what’s *in* them. P
(Reginald’s POV)I slam the crystal tumbler down onto the desk. Whiskey sloshes over the rim and soaks into a pile of reports I’ve already read twice. Nothing in them helps me. Just more useless updates from spies, empty words from the council, and—worst of all—nothing about how to control the damn twins.They’re under my roof, eating my food, breathing my air. But I can’t touch them. Can’t use them. Can’t even speak freely around them without Almira sniffing out my intentions.She ruined everything.She stormed in like some returning hero, claiming motherhood and moral high ground like a prize. The pack flocked to her like sheep. Even Mid—my Beta—has started tiptoeing around her like she owns the damn place.I stand up, pacing across the room. My heels echo off the marble floor, loud and angry.The children—Asher and Hazel—are something different. My Beta confirmed it. Hazel nearly melted through a silver pot in the kitchen, and Asher? He looked at one of the patrol guards, and the g
(Almira’s POV)The best way to catch a snake is to make it feel safe in the grass.So I pretend. I act like I’m softening. Like I believe Rachelle’s cooing and concern. I start inviting her more often to “bond” with the twins. I don’t hover—but I watch from a distance. I let her think she’s winning.Mid and I set everything carefully.We pick a day when Damon is out with the border patrol. The pack house is quiet. The kids are painting in the garden. I leave a worn leather journal on the garden bench—the one that supposedly contains notes about the twins’ powers and some fake “ritual symbols.”It’s bait.Rachelle arrives exactly on cue.“Almira,” she says, all sweet and surprised. “You’re letting them paint outside alone now?”I smile. “They’ve been so calm lately. I think it helps them feel… grounded.”She nods. “May I?” she gestures toward the kids.“Of course,” I say. “I’ll be in the herb room. Call if you need me.”I walk away slowly, but not too far.I wait.Minutes pass. Then I
(Almira’s POV)I don’t trust her smile.Not the one she gave my daughter when she asked if she liked painting, her voice all syrup and false warmth. Not the one she flashed at Asher when she offered him cookies she hadn’t even baked herself, pretending to care.And now, after what Mid told me… it all makes sense.She’s watching them. Not like children—but like riddles she’s desperate to solve. Every glance, every question, it’s calculated. Measured. Like she’s gathering data.I pace by the window, arms folded, eyes locked on the backyard. The kids are playing, completely unaware. So innocent. So normal. Asher’s shadow dances at his feet as he laughs, his joy loud and unfiltered. Hazel’s kneeling on the stones, drawing suns and hearts in chalk, her hair catching the light like strands of gold.