Chapter 3 — The Name My Mother Hid

I read the letter three times before I accepted that the words were real.

If you’re reading this, the Royal bloodline has awakened.

Do not let the Alpha find you.

My mother’s handwriting was unmistakable. I had spent enough of my childhood tracing those letters in the few notes she had left behind to know she had written them herself. But the meaning of the message was impossible to understand.

Royal bloodline.

Awakened.

Alpha.

None of it belonged together.

Werewolf bloodlines were divided into ordinary packs, powerful Alpha families, and a handful of ancient lines whose names were rarely spoken anymore. I had heard stories about Royal Wolves when I was younger, but my father had always dismissed them as old pack mythology. According to him, there had never been a true Royal bloodline in generations.

Yet my mother had written those exact words.

And she had warned me about my own Alpha.

I folded the letter carefully and slipped it into my pocket.

“Raya,” I whispered, “do you know what this means?”

For a moment, there was only silence.

Then she answered.

I know the word.

I frowned. “Royal?”

No. The bloodline.

My pulse quickened.

“You remember?”

Not everything.

That answer unsettled me more than if she had said yes.

I had always known Raya was intelligent, but in my first life I had never taken the time to understand her. I had been too busy trying to become the perfect mate, the perfect pack member, the perfect woman everyone expected me to be.

Now I wondered how much she had been trying to tell me all those years.

“What happens when the bloodline awakens?”

Raya hesitated.

Something answers.

A cold sensation moved down my spine.

“Something?”

I don’t know.

Before I could ask anything else, footsteps sounded in the hallway.

I immediately slipped the letter beneath my sweater.

The study door opened.

My father stood there.

For one terrifying second, I thought he had seen what I was holding.

Instead, his gaze moved toward the cabinet.

“What are you doing in here?”

I forced myself to relax.

“I was looking for something.”

His expression changed slightly.

“What?”

I almost told him.

Then I remembered the first life.

My father had died three months before the apocalypse. At the time, I had been devastated. I had believed I had lost the last person who could protect me.

But there had been things he had never told me.

Things about my mother.

Things about my blood.

And if he had hidden them once, there was no reason to believe he would tell me now simply because I asked.

“Nothing important,” I said.

He studied me for another moment before stepping aside.

“You need to be careful with Ryan.”

I looked at him.

That was unexpected.

“Why?”

My father’s jaw tightened.

“You rejected him.”

“So?”

“So you have no idea what his family will do when they hear about it.”

The warning made my stomach tighten.

In my first life, Ryan’s family had always treated our mating as a political advantage. I had been useful to them because my healing ability was unusually strong. They had praised my kindness when I was helping them and criticized me whenever I refused.

I had never understood how little they actually valued me.

Not until it was too late.

“Let them be angry,” I said.

My father stared at me.

“You sound different.”

“I am.”

He looked as though he wanted to ask another question, but he didn’t.

When he left, I waited several minutes before moving.

Then I opened my phone and began searching for everything I remembered about Royal Wolves.

Most of the information was useless.

Old pack records.

Half-forgotten legends.

Stories about wolves who could command territory, protect entire groups, and manipulate abilities other wolves couldn’t access.

But one detail kept appearing.

The Royal bloodline had disappeared after a massacre decades ago.

No confirmed survivors.

No known descendants.

I stared at the screen.

Then I remembered my mother’s disappearance.

I had been six.

One morning, she was simply gone.

My father told me she had died.

I had believed him.

But there had never been a funeral.

Never a grave.

Never a body.

For twenty-four years, I had accepted that explanation because it was easier than asking questions.

Now I knew better.

My mother hadn’t simply disappeared.

She had hidden me.

And apparently, she had hidden me from the Alpha.

I closed the browser and opened my banking application again.

The Royal bloodline could wait.

The apocalypse couldn’t.

I transferred the maximum amount I could without attracting attention and began making purchases through several different accounts. I ordered water containers, medical supplies, long-storage food, batteries, generators, tools, protective clothing, and portable communication equipment.

Then I paused.

Weapons.

That was going to be harder.

In my first life, I had relied on Ryan’s pack warriors to protect me.

This time, I needed to learn how to protect myself.

I called a number I hadn’t used in years.

A private survival instructor.

He answered after the third ring.

“Hello?”

“I need training.”

There was a pause.

“What kind?”

“All of it.”

“That’s a broad request.”

“I have sixty days.”

Another pause.

Then he laughed quietly.

“Sixty days for what?”

I looked out the window.

The sky was clear.

Beautiful, even.

Nobody outside this house knew what was coming.

Nobody except me.

And perhaps whoever had written the warning hidden inside my mother’s old cabinet.

“I need to be ready for the end of the world,” I said.

He laughed again.

I ended the call.

I didn’t care if he believed me.

I had spent one lifetime waiting for other people to believe me.

I wouldn’t make that mistake twice.

By evening, the first of my deliveries had arrived.

I moved everything into an unused storage building on the edge of the property and began sorting it carefully.

Water.

Food.

Medicine.

Tools.

Fuel.

I was carrying another box inside when I heard an engine slow near the road.

I froze.

The vehicle didn’t stop at the house.

It continued past.

But someone inside was watching me.

I felt it.

Raya felt it too.

We’re being watched.

I lowered the box slowly.

“By who?”

She didn’t answer.

A second later, my phone vibrated.

Unknown number.

One message appeared on the screen.

You should not have rejected him.

My blood went cold.

Another message arrived before I could react.

Your mother made the same mistake.

I stared at the screen.

My fingers tightened around the phone.

Because whoever had sent the messages knew about my rejection.

And they knew about my mother.

But the most frightening part was the final message.

Sixty days is not how long you have.

It’s how long they are giving you.

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