LOGINPOV DARLENE
The crunch of branches under my bare feet was the only sound reminding me that I was still alive. The emerald dress, the one my mother bought to hide my "imperfections," was now a silk trap that tangled in the brambles and cut my skin. I stopped at the edge of the River of Shadows, the natural boundary that separated civilization from the Silver Moon pack and the utter chaos of the Exiles' lands. I dropped to my knees, not to pray, but because my legs had finally given way. The pain of the bond broken by Jackson was physical agony; it felt as if invisible acid was running through my veins, burning the connection to my inner wolf. She was there, curled up in the back of my mind, whimpering in sheer terror. "Calm down," I whispered to the void, my voice coming out as a dry croak. "He can't hurt us anymore." I looked down at my feet. They were mangled, covered in mud and blood. As a healer, I knew that infection was my first enemy. I tore off a piece of my dress skirt—the expensive silk now serving only as a bandage—and submerged my feet in the icy water. The cold made me hiss, but it helped numb the pain. As the water washed my wounds, I looked back at the distant lights of the herd. I could imagine the party. Jackson drinking on Sarah's arm, the laughter about the "fat wolf" who fled into the forest. I felt a pang of rage that almost made me lose my balance. Not only had he rejected me; he had stolen my home, my status, and my dignity in less than ten minutes. "You're too much of everything I don't want." His words hit me again. I looked at myself in the reflection of the water. In the moonlight, my curves looked pale and majestic, but my eyes... my eyes were filled with a storm that Jackson never had the courage to navigate. "If you don't want me, Jackson, pray that the forest kills me," I said to the wind. "Because if I survive, I'll come back for everything you took from me." I forced myself to get up. I couldn't stay by the riverbank; it was too vulnerable. I crossed the water with difficulty, feeling the sharp stones under my feet. On the other side, the forest changed. The trees were taller, darker, and the air smelled of mold, predation, and something metallic. Ancient blood. This was the territory of the Blood Wolves, Eryx's pack. In Silver Moon, they told us horror stories about them since we were cubs. They said that Eryx was a monster who did not respect the laws of the Moon Goddess, that his warriors were outcasts who had lost their minds, and that his lands were littered with the bones of those who tried to cross them. I walked for hours, guided only by my healing instinct. I was looking for Artemisia or Comfrey, something to reduce the swelling in my ankles. I found a small rocky ledge, a kind of shallow cave hidden by ivy. It was the best I could do. I crawled inside and tried to light a small fire using flint that I always carried in my healer's bag, which, luckily, I hadn't dropped during my escape. When the flame finally caught, the light revealed something that made my blood run cold. There were claw marks on the cave wall. But they weren't normal claws. They were deep, carved with inhuman force. And next to them, a symbol I knew from forbidden history books: the bloody fang, the mark of Eryx. Suddenly, the silence of the forest was broken. It wasn't an animal. It was the sound of heavy, rhythmic footsteps and the smell of sandalwood and storm that began to fill the small cave. My heart stopped. My inner wolf, which had been asleep from the pain, stood up suddenly, bristling her fur. But it wasn't fear she felt. It was... a terrifying curiosity. "No one crosses the river and survives the first night, little wolf," a deep voice, like a contained earthquake, echoed from the darkness outside. I stood up, clutching my small silver dagger for gathering herbs. It wasn't a weapon for combat, but it was all I had. "Don't take another step!" I shouted, trying to keep my voice from betraying that I was about to faint from exhaustion. A huge figure stood silhouetted against the cave entrance. The light from my small fire only managed to illuminate his muscular legs and the top of a torso covered in scars and tattoos that seemed to move. The man was a mountain of muscle, a presence so physical that the air in the cave seemed to run out. He entered, ignoring my dagger as if it were a toy. When the light finally hit his face, the breath escaped my lungs. He had a sharp jaw, dark red eyes that glowed with lethal intelligence, and a scar across his right eyebrow. Eryx. The Blood Alpha. He stopped two meters away from me, crossing his arms. His gaze drifted down my body, lingering on my torn dress, my bare shoulders, and my hips that Jackson had so despised. But Eryx didn't look at me with disgust. His eyes widened, and a low, almost inaudible growl vibrated in his throat. "You smell of rejection," he said, his voice not pitying, but dangerously curious. "And Silver Moon. What is Jackson's favorite healer doing in my kitchen?" "I'm not Jackson's," I snapped, clutching the dagger. "He rejected me." Eryx took another step, invading my personal space. He was so tall that I had to tilt my head back to hold his gaze. The heat radiating from him was like an oven. "He rejected you?" Eryx let out a dry, grim laugh. "Then that puppy is more of an idiot than I thought. You have fire in your eyes, woman. And a body made to drive a true Alpha mad." "Kill me now or leave me alone," I said, even though my hands were shaking. Eryx reached out, so fast I couldn't react. He grabbed my wrist with a force that made me drop the dagger. But he didn't hurt me. His fingers brushed the sensitive skin of my arm, and I felt an electric shock a thousand times more powerful than the one I felt with Jackson. My wolf let out a howl of recognition that left me stunned. "I'm not going to kill you," he whispered, leaning down until his lips brushed my ear. "But I'm not going to let you go either. You've entered my lands seeking refuge, and in the Blood Pack, everything has a price." He looked me in the eyes, and for the first time in my life, I didn't feel "too much." I felt observed by someone who understood exactly the value of what he had in front of him. "You're coming with me, Darlene," he ordered. "And tomorrow, when you wake up in my fortress, I'll decide whether to make you my healer... or my greatest sin." The enormous silhouette of Eryx blocked what little light entered the cave. Before I could scream, his fingers closed around my silver dagger and his voice struck me like thunder: "You have two seconds to tell me who sent you to spy on me, little wolf, or this will be the last shelter you ever see."POV DARLENE Dawn found me with muscles screaming in pain, but my mind was clearer than ever. Eryx had left me in the infirmary with a clear order to rest, but the stillness of the stone walls suffocated me. I needed to move. I needed to feel that the ground beneath my feet belonged to me, not because of an Alpha's permission, but because of my own ability to inhabit it. I slung the leather bag over my shoulder and secured the obsidian dagger to my thigh. The weight of the weapon was a constant reminder that I was no longer the wolf hiding behind marigold petals. I left through the west postern, avoiding the main patrols. My goal was the Whispering Edge, a dense area where Blood Moss grew, essential for the deep wounds that warriors brought back from the border. I walked for an hour, using the stealth techniques Eryx had shown me. "Don't step on the dry leaves, Darlene. Let your weight distribute to the front of your foot." His words echoed in my head with the rhythm of my breath
POV DARLENE The early morning cold in the lands of the Blood Wolves wasn't just a matter of climate; it was a physical presence that penetrated to the bone, reminding you every second that here, nature had no mercy on the weak. Eryx had woken me before the first ray of sunlight touched the granite peaks, dragging me out of the warm furs with a single growled command: "Move." We walked in silence along a steep path that skirted a gorge. My lungs burned from the thin air at this altitude, and my thighs, the ones Jackson always looked at with disdain, worked hard to keep me upright on the loose stone. Eryx walked ahead of me, moving with the agility of a shadow. His broad shoulders and tattooed back tensed with every step, and I couldn't help but stare at the play of his muscles beneath his skin. "Have you had enough of staring, little wolf, or do you need a break to finish cataloging my scars?" Eryx said without stopping, his voice laden with dark amusement. I blushed violently,
POV DARLENE Dawn at the Blood Wolves' fortress did not arrive with the singing of birds, but with the sound of metal striking stone and the roars of training that made the walls of my new prison vibrate. I woke up wrapped in heavy furs, feeling the icy mountain air bite my bare shoulders. For a second, panic gripped my chest as I didn't recognize the carved rock ceiling, until the stabbing pain in my sternum reminded me of reality: Jackson had broken me, and Eryx had claimed me. I dressed in the leather and wool clothes Myra had thrown at me the night before. Unlike Silver Moon's oppressive silks, these garments hugged my curves with brutal honesty. The leather clung to my thighs and hips, highlighting my figure rather than trying to hide it under layers of useless fabric. When I looked at my reflection in a bowl of water, I didn't see the ashamed wolf who had fled the central square. I saw a woman who was beginning to resemble the wild environment that surrounded her. "Are you
POV DARLENE The rhythmic movement of Eryx's footsteps should have kept me alert, but the heat emanating from his body was a sedative drug for my exhaustion. It wasn't Jackson's warm heat; it was a roaring bonfire that seemed to want to devour the cold that rejection had left in my bones. When we finally crossed the black iron gates of his fortress, the sound of metal striking stone brought me back to reality. Eryx set me down with a brusqueness that was not meant to hurt me, but to test me. My bare feet touched the cold stone floor and I staggered. Around us, the fortress was not the nightmarish place described in the legends of Silver Moon, but it was not a welcoming home either. It was a city of stone and fire, built in the bowels of the mountain. "Eryx!" A loud, raspy voice broke the silence of the central courtyard. A tall man, his torso crisscrossed with battle scars and one arm made of metal engraved with runes that glowed blue, approached us. His gaze fixed on me with a
POV DARLENE The crunch of branches under my bare feet was the only sound reminding me that I was still alive. The emerald dress, the one my mother bought to hide my "imperfections," was now a silk trap that tangled in the brambles and cut my skin. I stopped at the edge of the River of Shadows, the natural boundary that separated civilization from the Silver Moon pack and the utter chaos of the Exiles' lands. I dropped to my knees, not to pray, but because my legs had finally given way. The pain of the bond broken by Jackson was physical agony; it felt as if invisible acid was running through my veins, burning the connection to my inner wolf. She was there, curled up in the back of my mind, whimpering in sheer terror. "Calm down," I whispered to the void, my voice coming out as a dry croak. "He can't hurt us anymore." I looked down at my feet. They were mangled, covered in mud and blood. As a healer, I knew that infection was my first enemy. I tore off a piece of my dress skirt
POV DARLENE The scent of lavender and calendula had always been my refuge, but today, the air in the infirmary felt heavy, almost suffocating. As I crushed the dry roots in my stone mortar, the rhythmic sound seemed to mark the countdown to my own execution. Or to my salvation. In the Silver Moon pack, hopes were luxuries that wolves like me didn't usually allow ourselves. I looked at my hands, stained with green sap and dirt. They weren't the delicate hands of a future Moon, according to my mother's standards. They were working hands, hands that knew every nerve and every tissue of a wounded wolf. But no one cared about my talent for saving lives if my hips didn't fit the aesthetic vision of the heir to the throne. "Darlene, for the Goddess's sake, are you still in here?" My mother Elena's voice entered the room before she did. She paused in the doorway, looking at me with a mixture of disappointment and panic. She was carrying the emerald dress she had forced me to buy. A dr







