Se connecterI 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.
I woke to cold sheets and the particular silence of an empty room. My hand found the space beside me before my eyes opened, palm pressing into the mattress where Amelia should have been, and for one terrible moment the fear was back, cold and certain. Then I remembered: she was awake. She was healing. She was mine.She stood by the wardrobe, already dressed in trousers and a loose sweater that swallowed her frame, running a brush through her copper hair with hands that still trembled slightly. The morning light caught the angles of her face, hollows where there should have been curves, and something in my chest twisted at the sight.“You’re supposed to be in bed,” I said, pushing myself upright. My voice came out rougher than I’d intended.Amelia didn’t look at me. “We won’t find Sera if I’m stuck in bed, Lukas.”I swung my legs over the edge of the mattress, feeling every hour of missed sleep in the stiffness of my shoulders. “Elara said—”“I know what Elara said.” She set the brush
I kept my arm around Amelia’s waist as we walked back to our bedroom, feeling the particular lightness of her body against mine with a protectiveness that bordered on possessiveness. Five days in a medical bed had left her thinner than she should have been, the curves I’d memorised with my hands reduced to angles that made something in my chest ache. She leaned into me more than she normally would, her steps careful but steady, and I matched my pace to hers without comment.The corridors of the palace were quieter than they should have been at this hour, most of the staff still confined to quarters after the Voice’s attack. The few guards we passed snapped to attention, their expressions carefully neutral though I caught the relief in their eyes at the sight of their queen walking under her own power. News traveled fast. By now, everyone would know Amelia was awake, was recovering, was—against all odds—still herself.
I woke to the sound of Lukas’s voice, low and controlled in the way that meant he was keeping a leash on his temper. My eyes stayed closed out of habit more than necessity—years of servant life had taught me the value of listening before being seen—and the medical wing resolved around me through sound alone: the steady beeping of monitors, the soft rustle of fabric, Dominic’s gravel voice answering Lukas with the particular precision of a man delivering bad news.“The rogue isn’t talking to me or Nico,” Dominic was saying, each word clipped with frustration. “Whatever Sera did to him, it left enough of him intact to recognise an enforcer when he sees one. He clams up the moment either of us enters the room.”Lukas made a sound that wasn’t quite a growl. “We need answers, Dominic. The blood moon…”“I’m aware of the timeline, my King.”I opened my eyes and stretched my neck, feeling the pop of vertebrae tha
The water hit my back like a physical blow, too hot by any reasonable standard but exactly what my exhausted body needed. I braced my forearms against the shower wall and let my head hang between my shoulders, water sluicing down my spine in sheets that turned the bathroom into a steam-filled cavern. Four days without proper sleep had left me running on something beyond exhaustion, a hollow, buzzing alertness that made every sensation too sharp and every thought too slow.I’d been standing there for—minutes? longer?—when Lily’s presence brushed against my mind. Not words. Just images, pushed through our tenuous connection with the particular lack of finesse that was pure Lily: Amelia, awake, propped against her pillows with one wrist still cuffed to the bed rail but the other free, a glass of water balanced carefully in her freed hand. She was rolling her eyes at something I couldn’t see, her copper hair falling around a face that had colou
Sleep pulled at me like a tide, dragging me under then releasing just enough to let me taste the surface before dragging me down again. My body felt wrong, heavy in a way that had nothing to do with exhaustion and everything to do with the poison still working its way out of my system. Each time I surfaced, the world resolved a little more sharply, the beeping of the heart monitor a constant I’d learned to track through the fog.The last time I’d woken, Lukas had been there. Now the chair beside my bed was empty, but the imprint of his weight remained in the cushions, the scent of him clinging to the air like a promise.I reached for Athena without opening my eyes, testing the bond between us the way I might test a bruise. For days—or had it been weeks?—the connection had been thin, frayed at the edges, the familiar copper warmth of her presence reduced to the barest flicker. But this time, when I reached, something solid met me.She was there, coiled in the depths of our shared consc
The drugs held me beneath the surface, a current I couldn’t fight no matter how hard I kicked. Sera’s poison lingered in my veins like winter frost, numbing everything from the inside out. I could feel Lukas’s hand on mine – warm, solid, real – but reaching him meant swimming through layers of something thick and cold that pressed against my consciousness from all sides. My body existed somewhere distant, separate from the part of me that was still trying to surface. Voices drifted through the haze, none of them clear enough to catch. The steady beeping of machines, the rustle of fabric, a low murmur that might have been Lukas speaking. I tried to focus on his voice, to use it as an anchor, but the drugs kept pulling me under. Sera’s presence had left stains on my mind, cold fingerprints I couldn’t scrub away no matter how hard I tried. In the deepest part of my consciousness, where the human mind met wolf instinct, Athena paced. Her copper form was dim
I cried out as pain tore through me, sharp and brutal. My fingers clutched at the bedcovers, seeking an anchor against the storm of sensation as Lukas claimed me with punishing force. What had started as careful, almost gentle, had transformed in an instant—the moment his wolf took control.
I ended the security briefing with a dismissive wave, cutting Dominic off mid-sentence. He paused, his scarred face betraying a flicker of surprise before his professional mask slipped back into place. Ares had stirred restlessly throughout the meeting, but now he surged forward with sudden urgency
I stood by the window, watching Amelia as she prepared for the trial. Morning light caught in her copper hair, setting it ablaze against the dark fabric of the robe she wore. Her movements were careful, measured, betraying the nervousness she tried to hide. Three attendants hovered nearby, ready to
Victoria entered the throne room like a feral animal, dragged between two guards whose expressions remained professionally blank despite her struggles. Her perfect blonde hair hung in tangled clumps, her face blotchy and tearstained. The ice-blue dress she'd worn to the ball had been replaced by pl







