LOGINI clawed my way back to consciousness through layers of darkness, each one heavier than the last. My mouth tasted of metal and ash, my tongue a foreign object too large for my jaw. Something cold and hard pressed against my cheek—concrete, my mind supplied distantly. I tried to move and regretted it immediately as pain lanced through my body, wolfsbane still burning in my veins like liquid silver. The thin blanket scratched against my naked skin as I forced my eyes open, the world swimming into a blurry focus of gray walls and iron bars.
Prison. Cell. Captive.
The words formed slowly in my mind, disconnected from meaning until reality crashed back like a wave. I had been running. I had been free. Then the rogues with their wolfsbane darts, their rancid breath, their hands on my skin…
I pushed myself upright, ignoring the protest of muscles not yet recovered from forced shifting. The blanket—more a rag than proper covering—slipped to my waist. I clutched it back over my chest, a useless gesture toward modesty in a situation that had stripped me of everything else.
Four bodies lay sprawled on the concrete floor around me, unmoving but for the shallow rise and fall of their chests. The rogues. My captors. Now, apparently, my fellow prisoners. One had a nasty gash across his forehead, crusted with dried blood. Another's arm bent at an unnatural angle. All wore the same vacant expression of drugged unconsciousness I had likely worn moments before.
"What the hell?" I whispered, voice scraping raw from my throat.
The cell was maybe twelve feet square, three concrete walls and one made of thick steel bars. Beyond, a narrow corridor stretched in both directions, lit by buzzing fluorescent lights that cast everything in a sickly pallor. No windows. No hint of whether it was day or night, or how long I'd been unconscious.
‘Athena?’ I called internally, reaching for the familiar presence of my wolf. Only silence answered, her consciousness still buried beneath layers of wolfsbane. I was alone in my own head for the first time since she'd awakened.
I swore under my breath, colourful curses Lily had taught me when no one was listening. We'd gone from the frying pan directly into the inferno. Free of Silver Lake only to be captured by rogues, then captured again by... who? The cell looked too clean, too official to be another rogue camp.
A sound drew my attention—boots on concrete, approaching with measured steps. I pulled the blanket tighter around me, painfully aware of my nakedness, my vulnerability. A man appeared outside the bars, his crisp black uniform marking him as something official. A guard. Not Silver Lake—their guards wore navy with silver trim—but something similar. Behind him, another guard stood at a slight distance, hand resting on the taser at his belt.
"The female's awake," the first guard called over his shoulder, not bothering to address me directly.
I pushed myself up further, wincing as my bare feet touched the cold floor. "Where am I?" My voice sounded strange to my own ears—too high, too frightened.
The guard's eyes swept over me with clinical detachment. "Prisoner holding. Royal City."
The Royal City. My heart stuttered. I'd run north, straight into the territory of the Alpha King himself. Of all places to be captured, this was the worst possible outcome.
"There's been a mistake," I said, taking a step toward the bars, then stopping as the second guard's hand moved to his weapon. "I'm not with them. They captured me in the forest. Used wolfsbane darts to force my shift. I was running from—" I stopped, unsure how to explain my situation without admitting I'd fled my pack, a serious offense in its own right.
"Save it for your trial," the first guard said, boredom evident in his tone. He'd clearly heard every possible story from desperate prisoners.
"You don't understand," I insisted, desperation clawing at my throat. "I'm from Silver Lake Pack. These rogues attacked me. You can contact Alpha Marcus Blackwood—" The lie tasted bitter, but I needed someone, anyone to believe me.
The guard exchanged a glance with his partner. Something like amusement passed between them.
"Silver Lake, huh?" The second guard stepped closer, studying me with newfound interest. "That's what the last one said too. Must be your pack's new defense strategy."
"The last—? No, I'm telling the truth!" I clutched the bars, the metal cold beneath my fingers. "Please, just contact them. Ask for—" I faltered. Who would vouch for me? Not Marcus or Elena, who had cast me out. Not Alexander, who had rejected me. Lily? A servant's word would hold no weight.
The first guard sighed, reaching for something on his belt. A syringe filled with amber liquid gleamed under the harsh lights. "Female's getting agitated. Standard procedure."
"No!" I backed away from the bars, bumping into one of the unconscious rogues. He groaned but didn't wake. "I'm not agitated. I'm trying to explain. They drugged me. I'm not one of them!"
The cell door unlocked with an ominous clank. Both guards entered, expressions impassive as they advanced on me.
"Please," I whispered, backing against the wall, nowhere left to retreat. "Please don't."
The second guard grabbed my arm, twisting it behind my back with practiced efficiency. I struggled, but the wolfsbane still in my system had weakened me, and his grip was like iron.
"Typical rogue," the first guard muttered, tapping the syringe to remove air bubbles. "Always someone else's fault. Always a mistake." He found a vein in my exposed arm and slid the needle in without gentleness.
Fire spread from the injection site, racing through my veins with familiar agony. Wolfsbane again, stealing what little strength I'd recovered.
"I'm not..." The words slurred as darkness crept in from the edges of my vision. "Not a rogue..."
The last thing I saw before consciousness slipped away was the guard's indifferent face as he stepped back, duty completed, problem solved.
"Sweet dreams, prisoner," he said, voice fading as the drug pulled me under. "Better save your stories for the Alpha King. He'll be your judge, jury, and executioner soon enough."
Then there was nothing but darkness once more.
We were halfway through tearing apart the second rogue camp when I caught her scent on the wind—copper, cinnamon and fury. Athena, moving toward us with purpose, with Nico's smaller wolf following behind. Ares faltered mid-lunge, momentarily confused by the approach of his mate. I had one rogue by the throat, blood coating my muzzle, while my guard wolves handled the others. Three were already dead, their bodies cooling on the forest floor. Two more were fighting back with the desperation of the cornered, though the outcome was never in doubt. Until she arrived.Athena burst through the treeline like vengeance incarnate, massive copper form gleaming in the moonlight, emerald eyes finding mine instantly across the blood-soaked clearing. The growl that escaped her would have sent lesser wolves to their bellies—a sound of such commanding fury that even my royal guards hesitated, their jaws loosening on their prey.I didn't release my rogue. Ares refused, his golden pr
I had barely reached the palace's ground floor when I heard the whispers. Two guards, heads bent together, voices hushed but not enough: "the King shifted right in the courtyard—tore off running into the forest like hellhounds were after him." The second guard nodded. "Five of the royal guard followed, all shifted. Never seen anything like it." I stopped dead, Athena immediately alert within me, her copper presence surging with concern. Lukas had gone hunting, and in his current state, there was no telling what damage he might do—to the rogues, to himself, to the fragile political balance we'd been maintaining.'Stupid male,' Athena growled within my mind, her frustration mirroring my own. 'Always thinking with teeth, not brain.'I felt her reaching through our bond, copper warmth extending toward the golden presence that was Ares. I could feel him distantly—rage and protective fury burning like a wildfire—before he growled and the connection slammed shut, cutting
I stormed from the dungeon with Ares clawing at my insides, his presence pushing so hard against my skin that I could feel my claws extending and retracting with each pulse of rage. My mate was being threatened. Again. And she wanted to keep the threat alive, to study it like some curious artifact rather than eliminate it. Servants flattened themselves against walls as I passed, the wiser ones averting their eyes from their King’s fury. They knew what the red rimming my vision meant—Ares was riding me hard, and he would not be denied much longer.The palace corridors blurred around me, marble and stone bleeding together as I moved with inhuman speed toward the nearest exit. Guards bowed hastily, scrambling out of my path. One foolish young wolf attempted to ask if I required assistance and found himself pinned against a wall, my hand around his throat before he'd finished speaking."My King," Dominic's voice cut through the red haze. He stood several paces away, ha
Athena's frustration mirrored my own, her copper presence restless with the need to take action, to find concrete threats we could face. 'Waste of time,' she growled within my mind. 'Can't get straight answers from broken wolf.'We spent the next hour questioning the rogue from every angle, trying different approaches to break through whatever conditioning held him. We asked about the wolfsbane, about Elder Nora's murder, about Lysander's connection to the Voice. Each line of questioning yielded the same vague, circular responses or complete silence.The only clear information we gleaned was the continued pattern of referring to the Voice as "she" when discussing organisation, recruitment, and planning, and "he" when referring to combat, training, or military aspects.Finally, Lukas straightened, his patience visibly exhausted. "This is getting us nowhere," he said, his voice tight with controlled rage. "We should end him and focus on finding the source."
The dungeons beneath the Royal Palace were as cold as death. I descended the narrow stone staircase with Lukas at my side, the dried blood on my formal clothes cracking with each movement. Athena paced restlessly within me, her copper presence still burning with the satisfaction of our executions, yet uneasy about what waited below. The wolfsbane's ghost lingered in my veins, a dull ache that sharpened with each step, but I ignored it. Physical pain was nothing compared to the threat still hanging over us—this mysterious Voice who had orchestrated attacks against me, against us, and somehow controlled wolves like puppets on invisible strings."You're certain you're up for this?" Lukas asked, his voice low enough that only I could hear it. His hand rested at the small of my back, a point of warmth in the dungeon's chill.I nodded, not bothering to hide my grimace as we reached the bottom of the stairs. "I need answers, Lukas. We both do."The cells stretche
I watched Amelia rise from her throne with regal grace, her spine straight, her chin lifted in that way that still took my breath away after all these months. There was nothing of the servant girl left in her now—only the Queen, the Alpha female, the mate who had fought through poison and treachery to claim what was hers by right. Ares stilled within me, his golden presence shifting from rage to something closer to reverence as we both recognised the transformation taking place. Her eyes had darkened to forest green, Athena's influence evident in the predatory stillness that settled over her as she stepped down from the dais to address the kneeling rogues.I followed, taking my place beside her, close enough to feel the heat radiating from her skin. The wolfsbane might still linger in her system, but it had done nothing to diminish the power that emanated from her in waves. If anything, surviving the poisoning had only reinforced what I'd known since the moment I'd claimed







