FAZER LOGINEvelyn's hand hovered over the doorknob as her pulse thundered in her ears. Rain hammered against the cabin roof, the storm raging just beyond the threshold-but somehow, the storm inside her chest was louder.
He stood there barefoot, chest rising and falling with ragged breaths, the remains of a torn shirt clinging to him. Muscles tense. Jaw clenched. Gold eyes glowing with something wild—and something frighteningly human.
“You know my name,” she whispered.
“Yes.”
His voice was gravelly, low, and resonant. “Now shut the door.”
Another howl echoed through the woods, closer this time. A cluster of answering howls followed, sharp and chilling. The sound raised the tiny hairs on the back of her neck.
Evelyn slammed the door shut and backed away. “What are they?”
"Rogues," he said. "Wild. Untethered. They smelled blood.
“Your blood?
"Any blood." His gaze flicked to her tattered wedding dress. "They caught your scent, too."
Her stomach twisted. “So, they’re looking for me.”
“No.” He took a slow, deliberate step toward her. “They’re hunting you.”
Evelyn swallowed hard, clutching her damp skirt. “And you’re… what? The nice wolf?”
His lip twitched - almost a smile, but too grim to be one. “Nice isn’t the word anyone uses for me.”
"Well, you didn't eat me," she muttered. "That's a good start."
He expelled a sharp breath, perhaps amused, perhaps frustrated. Hard to tell.
Outside, the storm howled again.
Inside the cabin, he staggered.
Evelyn gasped. "You're hurt."
He glanced at his shoulder as if remembering the wound for the first time. Blood trickled down his arm. The torn skin was deep, angry. “It will heal.”
She stepped closer despite every instinct screaming at her not to. “You're bleeding everywhere. Just—sit down.”
He raised a brow. “Why?”
"Because I don't know who you are, or what you are, and I'm wearing a soaking wedding dress in the middle of nowhere and everything hurts-and helping you is the only thing in this moment that doesn't feel completely out of control."
He stared at her for several seconds. Something softened in his expression-not much, but enough. He wanted to resist her touch, but something stopped him. Her unique scent was all around the cabin, and his wolf was howling his head off for release.
He sat.
Evelyn walked quickly to the little kitchen area and discovered an old tin box full of bandages and antiseptic. When she returned, he was watching her with unnerving intensity. He noticed the way she walked and the still scared look on her face.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she muttered.
“How am I looking at you?
"Like you're deciding if you made a mistake saving me."
He grinned, tilting his head. “I didn’t.” That smile transformed his face, and she couldn’t help but stare at him.
“See something you like”, he smirked at her.
Her cheeks warmed-annoyingly. “Just hold still.”
She knelt beside him and gently cleaned the wound. His breath hitched once when the antiseptic stung, but otherwise he didn't flinch. His skin radiated heat, far more than human. She tried not to stare. Tried not to imagine how strong he must be in either form.
Focus, Evelyn.
“You heal fast?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“How fast?”
His eyes met hers directly, their expression unreadable. "Faster with help."
"What kind of help?"
His eyes dropped to her hand on his shoulder.
Her breath caught. “Oh,” she blushed.
“Yes,” he murmured. He imagined taking her right there and then.
The air between them thickened, humming with something she didn't understand. She pulled her hand back, heart pounding. "Well, tough. You're getting bandages, not magic healing touch."
A faint smirk arced his lips. “As you wish.”
She wrapped the bandage tightly. Her fingers brushed his skin again—this time accidentally—and warmth surged up her arm. Not normal warmth. Something deeper. Sharper.
She pulled away fast. “There. Done. Good enough?”
“For now.”
He rose, towering over her again. “They'll come back tonight, “he said shoving the thoughts of tangling with her off his mind.
“The rogues?”
“Yes.”
“Why? You chased them off.”
“You misunderstand.
His voice dropped into something darker.
"They weren't here for me."
Evelyn blinked. "But I'm nobody. I don't even live here."
"You crossed into their territory. Alone. Injured. Weak. On the run." He stopped. "Wearing white. They see that as blood. Or prey.
She wrapped her arms around herself. “So, what do I do? Stay here forever? Hope they get bored?”
He stepped closer, close enough that she could feel heat radiating from him, close enough that the gold of his eyes trapped every thought inside her head.
“I'll protect you,” he said.
The words were simple, firm, and absolute.
But the intensity behind them hit her like a physical force.
She swallowed hard. "Why? You don't even know me."
A beat of silence.
"Yes," he said quietly. "I do.
Her heartbeat faltered. “How?”
Another howl ripped through the forest, shattering the moment.
He grasped her wrist-not roughly, but with an undeniable strength-and pulled her from the door. “They’re close.”
She stumbled after him. "Wait, what do you mean you know me? You've never seen me before."
“I have,” he said, moving her into the back room. “Not like this. But I’ve sensed you for months.”
“Sensed me?”
He stopped and turned. The look he gave her rooted her to the floor.
“You’re my tether.”
She blinked. “Your—your what?”
Before he could answer, something slammed into the cabin wall hard enough to shake the floorboards.
Evelyn screamed.
Instantly, he stepped in front of her, a low, frightening growl ripping from his throat—human form or not, it was unmistakably wolf.
The wall cracked.
A claw tore through the wood.
He snarled, "Get behind me."
Evelyn did.
The cabin wall splintered.
A massive rogue wolf burst through, eyes wild, teeth bared, hunger dripping from every inch of it—
And the man in front of her shifted mid-air, bones snapping, body contorting, silver-black fur exploding across his skin—
With a roar, the Alpha wolf shook the room. And Evelyn realized, panting and quivering: She was not trapped with monsters.
She was standing behind the most powerful one.
Selene chose the council chamber deliberately.Not the inner sanctum where only elders convened, but the larger hall where decisions were witnessed, remembered, and—most importantly—misremembered when fear was allowed to rewrite them. She wanted this moment to linger in collective memory, unalterable by whispers afterward.The chamber filled slowly that morning. Elders took their seats in measured silence, some nodding to Selene, others avoiding her gaze. The air held that particular tension born of anticipation without understanding—everyone sensed that something was coming, but no one knew from which direction.Ariane arrived last.She wore calm like armor, her expression serene, posture open, hands folded neatly before her. She inclined her head toward Selene in a gesture that, weeks ago, might have read as solidarity. Now it read as performance.Kael stood at Selene’s right, unmoving, watchful. He had learned in recent days when to speak and when to let silence do the work. This w
Selene did not move against Ariane immediately.That restraint was not mercy. It was strategy.She let the council breathe. Let routine settle again. Let the elders convince themselves that the brief tension had passed. Ariane resumed her gentle presence, her helpful tone, her careful balance between authority and humility. On the surface, the keep returned to its measured rhythm.But beneath it, Selene was laying threads.She began with the records.Not the obvious ones—the council minutes, the patrol assignments, the sealed decrees. Those had already been touched too often. Instead, Selene went to the margins: requisition logs, messenger routes, secondary authorizations that were rarely questioned because they were tedious and unglamorous.She noticed how often Ariane’s name appeared as a relay.Not as an originator. Not as a signer.As a bridge.Selene spent long evenings in the archive chamber, sleeves rolled, hair bound back, the twin’s presence steady and alert within her. The t
The days that followed did not announce themselves as turning points.That was the most unsettling part.Selene continued her routines as she always had—morning council briefings, afternoon patrol walks, evenings beside Kael when the keep finally settled into stillness. On the surface, nothing had changed. But underneath, something had begun to pull at the seams, slow and deliberate.It started with the elders.Not all of them. Just enough.Elder Varyn avoided Selene’s gaze during meetings. Elder Morren hesitated before agreeing to motions she proposed, his assent delayed by a second too long to be coincidence. Elder Lys, who had once sought Selene’s counsel privately, now deferred instead to “later discussions.”Later, Selene learned, often meant Ariane.She noticed how Ariane positioned herself—not at Selene’s side, not in opposition, but just close enough to be consulted first. Ariane never contradicted Selene outright. She reframed. She softened. She suggested alternatives that so
Morning came softly to Nightfang Keep, as if the world itself hesitated to disturb what had settled in the night.Selene woke before Kael.She lay still beside him, watching the slow rise and fall of his chest, the relaxed lines of his face that only appeared when he slept. His arm was heavy around her waist, grounding, familiar. The intimacy they had shared the night before lingered in her body—not the ache of unfulfilled desire, but something deeper. A sense of alignment. Of choosing each other deliberately, even under pressure.The twin stirred faintly within her.Not restless. Not aggressive.Watchful.Selene closed her eyes and breathed through it. The twin did not speak in words, not yet—but there was a sensation, a subtle tightening, as if something in the world had shifted while she slept.When she rose quietly and dressed, she carried that feeling with her down the stone corridors of the keep.The pack was already awake. Servants moved briskly. Guards changed shifts. Elders’
The dawn arrived over Nightfang Keep with a pale, silver light that shimmered through the high windows. Selene woke first, the faint pulse of her magic humming gently beneath her skin, the twin inside her stirring, coiled but restrained, a quiet observer to her calm. She felt Kael’s warmth beside her, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the restrained power of the wolf beneath his skin, and for a brief moment, the world narrowed to this room, to this bed, to this perfect, fragile calm.Her fingers reached out, tracing the line of his jaw, the curve of his shoulder, memorizing what belonged only to her. The twin whispered softly, a teasing, possessive undertone that brushed at her thoughts. He is yours, but mine sees him too, it murmured. Selene shook it off gently, focusing instead on the pulse of heat and desire that connected her to Kael.Kael stirred, shifting slightly, one arm curling protectively around her waist, pulling her closer. He smelled of dawn, of earth and forest and
Night had fully fallen over Nightfang Keep, and the world outside was silent—deceptively so. Within the high walls of the keep, Selene and Kael moved together through the quiet corridors, the twin coiled gently in Selene’s mind, aware and watchful, teasing faintly at Kael’s presence.They entered the tower that overlooked the northern forests, the moonlight spilling across the floor in pale, silver shards. Selene stopped and turned to him, her silver aura flickering faintly, a heartbeat of raw energy controlled only by the twin’s subtle guidance.Kael’s dark eyes scanned her face, jaw tight. He could feel the twin stirring, the faint pull of power brushing at him like heat. He knew she could ground herself without him, but tonight, they would not hide. He would not hide.“Kael,” she whispered, voice low, almost trembling, “I feel it… inside me. The twin, the power. And you—your presence—it anchors me, but also—” She shivered, letting her words trail off, letting him feel the tension i







