LOGINThe sun hadn’t even cleared the eastern tree line when the bleachers surrounding the obsidian track filled to capacity. Half the territory had driven through the night to witness the proxy war. The obsidian track a massive three-mile loop composed of crushed volcanic glass glinted like a black mirror under the gray dawn light.I stood by the iron railing near the starting line, the cold wind whipping the hem of my leather jacket against my boots.Kaelen arrived first, accompanied by four of his Northern guards. He wore only simple black athletic trousers and a thin shirt that did little to hide the jagged scars cutting across his torso. He looked entirely unaffected by the early morning freeze, his icy blue eyes scanning the crowd with bored detachment.When Derek appeared, a low murmur rippled through the spectators.He had discarded his sling, his right arm braced with a tight compression wrap beneath his tank top. His skin looked sickly pale, almost translucent under the stadium li
Kaelen didn't stop until he was inches from Derek. The concrete beneath their boots felt like it was absorbing the chill radiating from the Northern Warlord. Derek’s friends scrambled backward, abandoning him by the fountain, leaving him alone with his bad arm and his brittle pride."I asked you a question, boy," Kaelen said, his voice dropping into a register that made the water in the stone basin ripple. "Did the lesson in the vanity room fade from your mind already?"Derek swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. He tried to lock his knees, to stand tall under the weight of Kaelen’s aura, but his left hand trembled against his side. "This is a Southern academy, Kaelen. You have no jurisdiction here. Leah is my fated mate, and the Council will verify it in three days. You're just a tourist holding a broken lease."A cruel smile cut across Kaelen’s face. He turned slowly, looking down at Claire, who was still shaking from Derek’s insults, her face a mask of ruined makeup and raw fur
The ash of the fake Shaman still lingered in the air, but the true stench in the council chamber was Derek’s desperation.With his political play shattered and the illusion of my "obsession" exposed as a cheap glamour, he scrambled backward against the wall. The elders stared at him with disgust. Even his father, Alpha Richard, looked at his son with a mix of fury and profound embarrassment."You absolute fool," Richard hissed, gripping Derek’s good shoulder so hard he nearly tore the fabric. "You dragged our pack into a treasonous lie based on a forged diary? You embarrassed our bloodline in front of the High Council!""It’s not a lie, Father!" Derek shouted, looking around the room for any ally left. He couldn't use the fake diary anymore, so he played his final card. He pointed a trembling finger at me. "She can't marry the Northern Warlord. She can't! Because she is my fated mate!"The chamber went dead silent. A fated mate bond was a biological decree, an match that even the High
The blood welling from the obsidian table smelled of stagnant water and copper. It dripped over the edges, hissing as it touched the stone floor. Kaelen didn't drop Derek. His grip tightened, his knuckles whitening against the boy’s throat, but his head snapped toward the door.The High Shaman stepped into the room, his white robes dragging through the dark liquid spreading across the floor. The bone charms on his staff rattled with a dry, hollow click."Step back, Warlord," my uncle commanded, his hand reaching for the silver dagger at his belt. His eyes went from the bleeding table to the gray-stained hands of the Shaman. "What is the meaning of this? The High Council does not interfere with pack tribunals unless requested.""The High Council acts when a bloodline is compromised," the Shaman said. His voice lacked the resonance of a holy man; it sounded thin, like wind rushing through a ribcage. He raised his staff, pointing the silver tip directly at me. "The girl is not a true Cre
The dust from the collapsing cavern had barely settled before the High Council called an emergency tribunal. The war had shifted from the battlefield back to the surface, inside the stone chambers of the Crescent Pack’s ancestral estate.My uncle, the current regent of the Crescent Pack, sat at the head of the long obsidian table. He was a stern, pragmatic man who had spent the last decade trying to keep our bloodline from fading into obscurity. Now, he looked between Kaelen, who stood like a dark wall at my right flank, and the party that had just entered the chamber.Derek walked in, supported by two elders from the Blackwood Ridge pack. His right arm was bound tightly in a medical sling, his face pale. The black ink had receded from his eyes, leaving him looking human again and entirely pathetic."Lord Regent," Derek began, his voice cracking with a calculated tremor of pain. He didn't look at me; he kept his eyes locked on my uncle. "I know what happened in the sanctum looked like
The fall wasn't a plunge through empty air; it felt like drowning in frozen ink. Pressure slammed against my eardrums as the shadows scraped against my skin, numbing the burning pain in my ribs. Derek’s grip on my wrist remained tight, a dead weight dragging me deeper into the abyss until we hit solid ground with a bone-jarring thud.The impact knocked the remaining air from my lungs. I rolled over on the cold, jagged stone, coughing violently, breathing in air that tasted of sulfur and dead winter."The bloodline has returned to the root," a voice echoed through the dark.I forced myself up onto my hands and knees, my head spinning from the venom and the fall. The green fire from the inner sanctum was gone, replaced by a faint, phosphorescent violet glow bleeding from the veins of the cavern walls. We were deep beneath the territory—in the old hollows my ancestors had sealed centuries ago.A few yards away, Derek staggered to his feet. The black ink in his eyes seemed to pulse in syn
The iron gates of the Blackwood Institute groaned shut behind Leah, Daniel, and Victor, the sound punctuating the end of the "Sieve." Professor Alden didn't smile his face was a map of calculated neutrality but his eyes lingered on the wooden coins Leah held."Perspective earned," Alden murmured, c
The screech of the chitinous wolf-thing was still vibrating in Leah’s teeth when Claire’s scream cut through the woods. It was a sound of absolute structural failure the sound of a pedigree breaking."Daniel, Victor don't look at the eyes!" Leah shouted, her voice a whip-crack of authority.The cre
The moment Derek and I reached the fork in the forest path, we both started running. Neither of us said a word. The wooden marker was tight in my grip as I followed the path Maya had guided me through earlier. Leaves crunched beneath my shoes, and branches brushed against my sleeves as I moved quic
Leah’s POVBy the time I reached the administration building, the campus was already more crowded than usual.Students stood in small groups along the stone walkway leading to Crescent Hall. Some were holding application papers, others were arguing quietly about rumors of where the shareholder pres







