Chapter Four

Three months later, I stand before my pack of rogues and outcasts. Fifty strong and growing. They call me their Silver Queen, and for the first time in my life, I feel the weight of actual power.

My pack has grown double the size in just a few months, way more than anything I thought we could achieve. Word spreads quickly in the rogue community about a silver wolf who commands shadows and shows mercy only to those who pledge their loyalty. 

We've made camp in an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of New Orleans, far from pack territories but close enough to know what was going on in the wolf territories. My followers have made up a clean, livable space. They look at me in a way I’ve never been looked at before. Utmost respect. Whether for my strenght or my ability as a leader, but they adored me.

"Alpha," Marcus, one of my earliest converts, approaches with his head bowed. "The scouts report movement from Blood Moon territory. Their patrols are... restless."

I nod, unsurprised. Darius must be feeling the pressure. My sources tell me his rule has been deteriorating since the rejection. His wolf was endlessly restless. Now the coucil grows doubts and even his own warriors question his judgements.

The bond's severing is killing him slowly, just as it nearly killed me.

"Any word from the other packs?" I ask.

"Growing unrest everywhere. Some are choosing sides already, expecting war." Marcus hesitates. "There's something else, Alpha. A visitor requests an audience."

My senses sharpen. I can smell him before I see him, leather clothed, but cleaner than I remember. Expensive cologne masking his underlying wildness. When he steps into view, my breath falters a bit.

Lucian Hayes. Alpha of the Silver Crescent pack. Tall, commanding, with dirty blonde hair and green eyes that remind me of Darius. But where Darius had always looked at me with disgust, Lucian's gaze holds something different.

Whether it was appreciation or delight, I couldn’t tell.

"The famous Silver Queen," he says, his voice smooth, somewhat political even. He moves with predatory grace, but there's no threats in his approach. "I had to see for myself if the rumors were true."

"And what do the rumors say?" I keep my voice steady, though something about him sets my wolf on edge.

"That a rejected mate rose from the ashes to become something extraordinary. That she commands rogues like a born leader. That her power rivals the ancients." He steps closer, and I catch his scent more fully. There's something familiar about it, something that makes my wolf uneasy.

"Pretty words," I say carefully. "What do you want, Alpha Hayes?"

"To offer you something Darius Vaughan never could. Recognition. Respect." His eyes burn with  crazed intensity. "A place at my side as my Luna. Together, we could unite the packs under our rule."

The offer hangs in the air between us. My pack watches from the shadows, tension rippling through them. They know how significant this is. If an established Alpha recognizes our pack, then we would definitely stand on top of the wolf territories.

Lucian looked at me like I was the key to everything he was searching for, almost obsessively. When Lucian reaches out to touch my hand, I don't flinch. His skin is warm against mine, and I feel none of the revulsion I expected.

"You don't know me," I point out, though I don't pull away.

"I know enough. I know you survived what would have broken lesser wolves. I know you turned rejection into strength, built an army from nothing." His thumb traces across my knuckles. "I know you're wasting on hiding in the shadows when you could be ruling in the light."

My wolf, though still wary, is attentive. But something deeper, more primal, whispers warnings I can't quite decipher.

"The packs would never accept a rogue as Luna," I say.

"They'll accept whatever I tell them to accept. I'm not like other Alphas, Lyra. I see value where others see weakness. I see potential where others see problems." He lifts my hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to my knuckles. "Say yes. Let me give you the world you deserve."

His gesture is gentle and respectful. But as Lucian's lips touch my skin, I catch another whiff of his scent, and this time my wolf's unease crystallizes into something sharper.

I've smelled something similar before. Recently. But I can't place where.

"I need time to consider," I tell him, pulling my hand back gently.

"Of course." He smiles,eyes closed as he flaunts his features. "I'm a patient man, Lyra. Take all the time you need. But know this, war is coming whether we want it or not. The question is whether you'll face it as an outcast hiding in the shadows, or as a queen with an army at her back."

After he leaves, my pack gathers around me. Their opinions are mixed. Some see the opportunity for legitimacy, some keep sentiment about family. But it's Marcus who voices what I'm thinking.

"There's something off about him, Alpha. His scent... it's familiar.."

I nod, relieved I'm not the only one who noticed. "Keep our scouts sharp. And send word to our contacts in the other territories. I want to know everything about Alpha Lucian Hayes."

That night, I train harder than usual. My claws slice through oak like paper. My shadows strangle practice dummies without touch. The moon speaks to me in silver whispers, and I finally understand. I was never weak. I was sleeping.

But as I work, Lucian's words echo in my mind. War is coming. The prophecy Marcus mentioned weeks ago surfaces in my memory. Something about a rejected wolf who would either unite or destroy the packs.

I was always meant for something greater than scrubbing floors. The question is whether that something is saving or destroying the world.

As I practice, news arrives from our scouts. Darius has been seen in the neutral territories, looking hollow-eyed and desperate. His Beta, Rafe, has been meeting secretly with wolves from other packs. Seraphine grows more demanding as Luna, pushing boundaries that make the council uncomfortable.

The Blood Moon pack is fracturing from within.

My thoughts are interrupted by Marcus's return from patrol. His expression is grim.

"Alpha, there's something you need to know about our visitor." He holds up a piece of fabric caught on a thorn bush near where Lucian departed. "His scent is on this, but there's something else. Something that's been bothering me since he left."

I take the fabric and inhale. Leather, expensive cologne and underneath it all, something that makes my blood run cold.

The same scent that clung to the rogues who first attacked me. I could never forget what they smelt like.

My eyes snap to Marcus. "What did you say his last name was again?"

"Hayes," Marcus confirms, but his expression tells me he's pieced it together too.

Vaughan-Hayes. So that’s why he seemed so familiar.

As Lucian and I walk through my camp the next evening, his second visit in as many days, he stops suddenly, his green eyes dimmed. "There's something you should know about me, Lyra. About why I really sought you out." His grip on my hand tightens, and beneath his pretty words, I catch that scent again, the same scent that clung to the rogues who first attacked me. My expression turned stern. "What did you say your last name was again?”