POV: Asher I’m rushing through the Big House’s lower halls, Ember right beside me, her knife out, both of us still buzzing from Tom’s words—*the vault’s vibrating*. My Glock’s in hand, my Skinwalker senses tingling, sharper after training. The guards trail us, their radios crackling, reporting no breaches, but my gut says this isn’t normal. We hit the vault door, a massive steel slab carved with crescent moons, humming like a live wire. “What the hell’s causing that?” Ember asks, her Moon Eyes glinting as she scans the door. “No clue,” I say, punching the code into the keypad. “But we’re finding out.” The door groans open, the hum louder now, vibrating in my chest. Inside, the vault’s lined with locked cases—secrets of Raven’s Peak, treaties, tech. At the center, a pedestal holds a glowing scroll, pulsing like a heartbeat. I freeze. “That wasn’t here before.” Ember steps closer, eyes narrowing. “It’s… calling us. My sight’s going crazy.” I nod, feeling my Skinwalker spa
Pov: Asher. “Lupa, we don’t have time for this!” I snap, standing in the safehouse basement, fists clenched. Ember’s upstairs with the pups, guards on high alert after the fake breach. My comm’s silent, but the Order’s threat looms. Lupa faces me, her silver hair tied back, eyes sharp. “You’re a Skinwalker, Asher,” she says, voice firm. “You don’t master this, the Order’s hunters tear us apart. Focus.” “Focus how?” I growl, pacing. “I shift, I fight. What’s this energy crap?” She steps closer, grabbing my arm. “It’s not just shifting. Feel your blood, your spirit. You’ve sensed it—time slowing, senses sharpening. Tap into it.” I shake her off. “I don’t feel anything now!” “You will,” she says. “Close your eyes. Breathe. Picture the wolf inside, but deeper—past the claws, the fur. Find the spark.” I grit my teeth, shutting my eyes. “This is stupid.” “Do it!” she barks. “The Order’s coming. Rowan, Caelen—they’re counting on you.” I breathe deep, forcing my mind to qu
POV: AsherI’m sprinting to the Big House’s storage room, Glock in hand, Ember’s footsteps fading as she races to the safehouse to check on Rowan and Caelen. The guard’s words—*“Blood opens the way”*—burn in my mind, a taunt from the Order. The east wing’s a mess, door splintered, but as I step inside, my flashlight sweeps over crates and files, all untouched. Nothing’s missing, just like Tom said. My Skinwalker senses flare, a prickle at the back of my neck, but there’s no one here. Just that damn burner phone on the floor, screen glowing with the message.“Distraction,” I mutter, grabbing the phone, my comm crackling. “Ember, you with the pups?”Her voice comes through, tense but steady. “They’re fine, Asher. Lupa’s got them. Caelen’s sleeping, Rowan’s fussing but safe. No breach here.”I exhale, but my gut’s still knotted. “Storage is intact. Nothing taken. It’s another feint.”“They’re screwing with us,” Ember says, anger sharp. “Keeping us running while they plan the real hit.”I
Pov: EmberMy pulse thunders as Asher and I sprint toward the north gate, his Glock drawn, my knife gleaming in my fist. The guard’s radio crackles—*“Three figures, cloaked, moving fast!”*—and the words hit like a gut punch. Aiden’s gone, but his master’s goons are here, hunting Rowan and Caelen. The safehouse is locked down with Lupa, but I feel the threat closing in. Jaxon, the wolf from the council, flanks us, his eyes glowing with the edge of a shift. Human guards—Tom and Sarah among them—follow, clutching rifles, their faces grim.“Status!” Asher snaps into his comm, skidding to a stop at the gate’s control room.“Cameras are dead,” a guard replies, voice tight. “They’re at the fence—blades, maybe guns. No glowing eyes.”“Same playbook as last night,” I say, checking my knife’s grip. “They’re testing us.”Asher nods, scanning the monitors, all static. “Jaxon, take point. Ember, with me. Humans, cover the flanks.”Jaxon growls, claws extending. “Let’s tear ‘em apart.”“No kills,”
Pov: Asher.My boots echo on the hardwood as Ember and I stride into the living room, the air thick with tension. President Donavan stands by the fireplace, his tailored suit crisp despite the late hour, flanked by two Secret Service agents, hands near their holsters. His gray eyes meet mine, calm but calculating, like he’s sizing up a chessboard. The guards at the door shift, uneasy, their radios buzzing low. Ember’s beside me, her jaw set, eyes flicking between Donavan and the agents. Upstairs, Lupa’s with the pups, but Aiden’s death and that vanishing figure have me on edge.“Alpha Asher, Luna Ember,” Donavan says, voice smooth, extending a hand. “I apologize for the unannounced visit.”I shake his hand, firm, not breaking eye contact. “President Donavan. You’re a long way from D.C. What brings you to Raven’s Peak?”He gestures to the couch, but I stay standing. He sits, crossing his legs. “Trouble. Your town’s a powder keg—attacks, breaches, a dead man in your Moon Room. I hear yo
Pov: Luna Ember The Moon Room crackles with tension, moonlight spilling through the skylight, carving crescent shadows on the stone walls. I stand at the center, Asher beside me, his alpha presence grounding the room. The Nightshade council—five elders, their eyes sharp and unyielding—sits in a semicircle, silent but heavy with judgment. Aiden’s hauled in, wrists zip-tied, face bruised, his smirk a defiant taunt. Guards shove him to his knees. My knife’s at my hip, begging to be drawn, but I keep my voice ice-cold. “Who’s your boss, Aiden? How deep does their operation run?”He laughs, a jagged edge to it. “You think I’ll crack, Luna? You’re nothing to me.”Asher steps closer, voice a low growl. “Talk. Who’s funding you? What’s in the Raven’s Peak vault?”Aiden’s eyes glint, but he doesn’t budge. “The vault’s your funeral, Alpha. Secrets that’ll torch your little human-wolf peace. My master’s in your streets, your guards. You’re already done.”An elder leans forward, voice like grave