LOGINI jolted awake, a cry tearing from my throat that came out as a canine yelp. Fire coursed through my veins, but not from my wounds. This came from inside, from the place where Alexander's rejection had left a raw, gaping hole. My body convulsed, paws scrabbling against the earth as I struggled to stand. This pain wasn't mine alone; Athena whimpered in our shared consciousness, her suffering tangled with my own until I couldn't tell where she ended and I began.
‘He's with her,’ Athena growled, her voice laced with a fury that matched the agony pulsing throughout me. 'Alexander's with Victoria.’
Images flashed unbidden through my mind—his hands on her skin, his lips against her neck, her smug smile as she claimed what should have been mine. I didn't want to see it, didn't want to feel it, but the broken bond betrayed me, forcing me to experience echoes of intimacy that felt like daggers in my heart.
‘He rejected me,’ I thought desperately, digging my claws into the soil as another wave of pain crashed through us. ‘Why can we still feel it? Why does it hurt like this?’
Athena's presence curled protectively around mine, a mental embrace that did little to soothe the physical torment. ‘The rejection breaks the claim, but not the connection,’ she explained, her words tight with restraint. ‘The bond itself will exist until either we take a mate or he does. These are... echoes. Fainter than a true bond, but still there.’
‘How long?’ I couldn't bear the thought of feeling this every time he touched her, every time they coupled, every time he chose her over me.
‘I don't know,’ Athena admitted. ‘Wolves aren't meant to reject true mates. It goes against everything we are.’
The pain began to recede, leaving me trembling and exhausted despite my brief rest. Dawn had begun to lighten the eastern sky, turning the black river to molten silver. We couldn't stay here—Silver Lake search parties would be following the river, and in daylight, a copper wolf would stand out like blood on snow.
‘We need to keep moving,’ I thought, forcing myself to stand on shaky legs. ‘North?’
‘North,’ Athena agreed. ‘Beyond Silver Lake territory. Maybe to the Greystone Pack lands, though they're more likely to return us to Silver Lake than offer sanctuary.’
I shook myself, water droplets flying from my fur as I tried to dispel both the lingering pain and the memory of Alexander with Victoria. My muscles protested as I began to trot along the riverbank, but the rhythm of movement soon loosened the stiffness. My back still throbbed where Julian's whip had cut, but the wounds had already begun to heal—werewolf regeneration working its magic now that my true nature had emerged.
We moved steadily northward, keeping the river on our right, occasionally stopping to drink or scent the air for pursuers. The forest grew denser as we traveled, the undergrowth thicker, as if fewer humans or werewolves passed this way. Small creatures scattered at our approach, squirrels leaping from branch to branch, birds taking flight with alarmed calls. I marveled at how clearly I could see them, how every movement registered in my enhanced vision.
‘What happens if they catch us?’ I asked as we forded a shallow stream that fed into the main river.
Athena's response was grim. ‘Marcus and Elena will welcome their daughter back now that she has a wolf. Alexander will continue to reject us publicly while feeling the bond privately. And Victoria will make our lives hell for daring to be her mate's true match.’
The thought of returning to that basement room, to Julian's whip and Victoria's cruelty, sent a surge of desperate energy through my limbs. I pushed harder, stretching into a full run again despite my exhaustion. I would rather die than go back to that half-life of servitude and shame.
We covered several miles in silence, the morning sun filtering through the canopy above, dappling my copper fur with shifting patterns of light and shadow. My tongue lolled from my mouth as I panted, the exertion warming me despite the cool morning air.
Suddenly, Athena stiffened in our shared mind, her attention snapping to full alertness. ‘Stop.’
I froze mid-stride, one paw lifted, ears pivoting forward. ‘What is it?’
'Smell that?’ She focused our senses, directing my attention to a faint odor carried on the breeze—unwashed bodies, stale smoke, and something else, something rotten and unclean.
‘Dirt,’ Athena growled, using the derogatory term wolves used for rogues—werewolves who had been cast out of their packs or had chosen to live outside pack law. ‘Rogues ahead.’
I retreated a few steps, uncertain. Rogues were dangerous—unpredictable at best, violent and lawless at worst. Without pack structure to keep their wolves in check, many eventually went feral, losing their humanity to the beast within.
‘We should go around,’ I suggested, already turning to seek another path.
Before Athena could respond, a whistling sound cut through the air. Sharp pain exploded in my flank. I yelped, twisting to see a dart embedded in my side, its feathered end quivering with the force of impact.
‘Wolfsbane!’ Athena's panic flooded our bond as I staggered, suddenly dizzy. ‘Run! RUN!’
I tried to flee, but my legs had turned to water beneath me. Another dart struck my shoulder. The forest tilted and spun around me as I collapsed onto my side, a whine escaping my throat. The wolfsbane burned through my veins like acid, paralyzing my muscles even as it forced a change I couldn't control.
‘No, no, no!’ Athena's voice grew distant as my grip on wolf form slipped away. ‘Fight it, Amelia! Stay wolf!’
But the wolfsbane was too strong. Pain racked my body as bones shifted and fur receded. My muzzle shortened, paws shrinking back to fingers and toes. The forest floor scraped against newly exposed skin as I writhed, helpless to stop the transformation.
When it ended, I lay naked and vulnerable on the cold ground, human once more. Athena's presence had retreated to a faint whisper in the back of my mind, too weak to communicate. The wolfsbane had driven her deep inside, leaving me alone and defenseless.
Footsteps approached, crunching on fallen leaves. I tried to move, to crawl away, but my limbs refused to obey. Through blurry vision, I saw them—four men surrounding me, their clothes ragged, their faces unshaven, their eyes gleaming with triumph and something darker that made my skin crawl.
"Look what we caught ourselves," one said, crouching beside me. His breath reeked of rotted meat as he leaned closer. "A pretty little wolf all on her own."
Another laughed, the sound harsh and grating. "Silver Lake, by the smell of her. They'll pay good money to get this one back."
"Or we keep her," said a third, his gaze traveling over my naked body with naked hunger. "Pack wolves make the best bitches once they're broken in right."
The fourth man knelt and roughly turned me onto my back. His fingers traced the welts left by Julian's whip, still visible despite partial healing. "Someone already started breaking this one," he observed with a grin that revealed blackened teeth. "Saves us some trouble."
Darkness crept in from the edges of my vision as consciousness began to slip away. In the distance, Athena howled with rage and despair, the sound fading as the wolfsbane pulled me deeper into darkness. My last thought before the black took me completely was that I'd had only hours of freedom before trading one prison for another.
When Amelia’s presence closed on the other side of the bond, Ares howled.Not aloud. The sound existed entirely in the space behind my sternum, the internal register he used when something happened that he could not act on. I had felt her concern in the half-second before she shut the connection, a sharp bright edge of it that she hadn’t fully managed to contain, and the words she had sent before closing it sat in the front of my mind with the weight of things said because you are not certain there will be another opportunity.I turned it into focus, the way Ares always did with things he couldn’t change. I put the connection in a place I could access later and gave my attention back to the western forest, where there was enough in front of me to require all of it.The trees here were different from the eastern forest - older, closer together, the canopy too thick for moonlight to come through in any useful way. We were fighting by scent and sound and the occasional brea
A mile of forest is a different kettle of fish entirely when you have four paws and the trees were lit blood-red.The canopy caught the moon’s colour and threw it back in fragments, and the world smelled of pine and cold earth and the sharp, entirely distinct scent of wolves who hadn’t come here with any ambiguity about their intentions. Athena knew the difference between pack wolves and rogues the way she knew the difference between rain and seawater: not identical, not even close, and worth noticing immediately.We knew before we saw them.Five rogues materialised from the dark between two ancient pines, mid-stride and committed, and Athena was already moving before the conscious part of me had processed the shape of them. That was the thing I had been learning to trust: she didn’t think in those first seconds. She reacted, copper and fast and utterly sure of herself, and what came after was not violence so much as purpose moving through a body built for exactly this.
The hour had a unique quality to it. Not slow, not really, but loaded.The way time gets when you are tracking too many things at once and your mind starts filing each piece against the others, building a picture you don’t want to see finished. Three more contacts to the south. Two to the west. Each one dealt with, each one a door closed. I stood at the window and watched the city and counted what I knew and what I didn’t.The reports kept coming. Dominic updated the board in the precise, unhurried script he used for intelligence documents. Nico managed the mental traffic with the focused quiet of a man running multiple conversations through a mental switchboard. Amelia sat with the stillness of someone whose stillness was active, cataloguing everything, her eyes moving between the board and the window and the map with the rhythm of a mind already three steps ahead.She had the colour in her cheeks that meant she was managing something, the pale determination that had replaced the pal
The moon had not yet risen, but we could all feel it coming.Two hours out, and the air in the office had taken on a density that had nothing to do with the fire in the grate or the number of people in the room. Nico stood at the whiteboard with his arms folded across his chest, studying the map the way a man looks at something he has memorised and is looking at anyway. Dominic sat at the corner of the desk with the stillness of someone who had spent decades waiting for bad news to arrive and had made peace with the waiting.Lukas stood at the window. He had been standing there for the best part of twenty minutes, watching the city below with his hands clasped behind his back, and the set of his shoulders told me more than his face did.I sat in the chair nearest the desk and tried to keep my mind on the open channels rather than the clock.The mind-link traffic had been running all day. Not the ordinary flow of a palace at work - this was tighter, more targeted, the constant quiet dr
Sleep had been a polite fiction I’d maintained until around three in the morning, and a losing battle from there.I lay in the dark with my eyes open and the ceiling doing nothing useful above me, listening to the palace at its quietest hour. The building had its own language in the small hours: the breath of the ventilation, the distant step of a guard changing shift, the way stone carried sound differently when there was no ambient noise left to absorb it. I had learned that language over weeks of lying awake beside Lukas, cataloguing the hours before dawn with the thoroughness of a former servant who had never quite learned to trust sleep completely.The space beside me had been empty for a while. Long enough for the sheets to cool on his side. Long enough for me to register his absence without being certain when it happened, which meant I had drifted off at some point and woken gradually rather than suddenly. I lay there another ten minutes, honest with myself, then admitted that
I saw her sit down before I fully registered the movement. That was the thing about watching someone recover from something that had nearly killed them. Your body developed its own early warning system, cataloguing every small deviation from normal with a thoroughness that had nothing to do with choice.She sat carefully, the way she had for the past few days. Economical. Controlled. Managing something that was taking more of her attention than she wanted to admit. Her hand went to her stomach. She probably did not notice she had done it.“Do you still feel unwell?” I asked.She looked up from the map, and I caught the flicker of calculation in her expression: the half-second assessment of whether to deflect. “A bit,” she said, which from Amelia translated to considerably more than that. We both knew it.“Perhaps you should go back to bed,” I said, and knew even as the words formed that they were a mistake.She t
I strode through the palace corridors, my footsteps echoing against marble as servants and guards flattened themselves against walls in my wake. The rage that had simmered since Amelia mentioned her public whipping threatened to boil over with each step. This Gamma Julian—this dog who had d
I strode through the palace corridors, Amelia's unconscious form cradled against my chest, my fury a living thing barely contained beneath my skin. Each heartbeat pounded with the same rhythm as Ares's enraged mantra:‘Mine. Hurt. Kill. Protect.’Guards flattened themselves against walls as I passe
The door closed with a soft click, leaving me alone with the copper-haired girl who fate had cruelly designated as my mate. She sat across from me, her shoulders hunched beneath the woolen blanket, though her eyes never left mine. The mate bond pulsed between us, new and raw, a connection neither o
I picked at my breakfast, appetite diminished by the knot of tension in my stomach. In five hours, I would meet the wolf who wanted me dead. The private dining room felt unnaturally quiet despite the presence of Lukas beside me and Dominic and Nico seated across from us, their expressions grave a







