LOGINTwo medics held me down before I could ask what was happening. The needle went in, and fire spread through my veins.
I bucked on the table hard enough that the leather restraints creaked, and a strangled sound tore out of my throat that wasn't a word. One medic, a beta woman with flat grey eyes and hair scraped back so tight it pulled at her temples, pressed my shoulder into the cold metal. "Hold still," she said, like I was a twitching animal. "What is that?" My voice came out a croak. "What did you put in me?" The second medic didn't even look at my face. He was already setting down the empty syringe and reaching for a small glass vial with a rubber stopper. His mouth was a thin line. "Heat induction. Concentrated. It'll peak within the hour." I felt it already. My skin went tight and hot, then hotter, a flush crawling from the injection site in my arm up to my neck and down my belly. My scent glands burned, and a wave of cloying sweetness filled the tent, so thick I gagged on my own smell. "This is wrong." I tried to sit up, but the restraints held, and the female medic shoved me flat again. "I was told to report here for a mission." "This is the mission," she said. My heart slammed against my ribs. Sweat broke across my forehead, and my body started producing slick, that humiliating wetness between my legs that meant my omega biology was overriding everything else. My cheeks flamed, but my limbs went weak and trembling at the same time. I couldn't control it. I couldn't stop it. "Please." The word slipped out before I could swallow it. "Just tell me what's happening." The tent flap pushed open, and cold air rushed in, sharp with pine and frost. The medics stepped back, and their hands fell away from me. I turned my head on the table, and Kellan Draven stood there in a dark wool coat, his silver-blond hair perfect even in the grey pre-dawn light. His glacial blue eyes swept over my shaking body, and his expression didn't change. "Leave us," he said to the medics. They left. The flap fell shut, and I was alone with Kellan and the fire crawling through my blood. "Untie me." My voice broke. I pulled at the restraints. "Kellan. Untie me." "No." He walked to the side table and picked up a small fabric patch sealed in clear wrapping. He held it up to the lantern light. "This is a sedative patch. High dose. When it comes into contact with a rogue alpha's scent receptors, it'll drop him unconscious in less than a minute." I stared at the patch. My brain felt slow, wrapped in cotton, but the pieces were falling into place like stones dropping into a deep well. "You're going to use me to carry that." "We're going to use your heat to carry it," Kellan said, and he set the patch down with a small click. "Bastian Crowne can smell an enforcer from a mile away. He avoids every trap we lay. But a lone omega in full heat—drenched in a scent so strong it masks everything else—he won't be able to resist. You'll walk into his territory, find his cabin, and get close enough for the patch to activate. Once he's down, our enforcers move in and execute him." The fire in my veins turned to ice. "You want me to be bait." "I want you to be a tool. The only kind you're fit to be." Kellan's voice was a clean, precise cut. "You can't fight. You can't hunt. Your wolf is a joke. But your body—right now—that's something useful." I pulled against the leather until my wrists burned. "And if I refuse?" "Then you're exiled. You walk out of Silver Hollow with nothing, and you take your chances in the rogue lands without pack protection. Or you're executed for insubordination before you reach the tree line." He tilted his head, and the lantern light caught the sharp angle of his jaw. "Either way, you die. At least this way, there's a slim chance you survive long enough for our enforcers to pull you out." I lay there, shaking on the table, slick soaking through my thin pants, my scent so thick I could taste it. And I understood, finally, what I had been from the moment they summoned me to the council hall. Not a wolf. Not a pack member. A body to spend. The most expendable omega in the territory. "Untie me," I said again, but this time my voice was flat. Dead. Kellan nodded once and sliced the restraints with a short blade. I sat up, and the room tilted. He caught my elbow, and his grip was cold and impersonal, like a handler steadying cargo. --- They marched me to the northern border as the sun started bleeding out behind the mountains. Maren Holt walked at my side, her scarred eyebrow pulled low, her hand firm on my arm in a way that felt more like a leash than support. The heat was peaking now, pulsing under my skin in waves that made my knees buckle every few steps. My thoughts were fog. My body was a stranger wearing my face. At the tree line, Maren stopped and turned me to face her. Her dark eyes held mine without blinking. "Listen to me, Mercer." Her voice was gravel and command. "You walk north until you smell woodsmoke. The rogue's cabin won't be far from there. The sedative patch activates on its own when it senses an alpha's proximity. You don't have to do anything but get close. We'll follow at a distance, out of scent range. When he drops, we move in." She pressed a small knife into my palm. The handle was cold, the blade dull from use. "If he catches you before the patch kicks in," she said, "that won't save you. But it might make you feel less helpless." I closed my fingers around the knife. My hand was trembling. "And if the patch doesn't work?" Maren didn't answer. She let go of my arm and stepped back. The enforcers behind her were shadows in the trees, rifles gleaming with frost, and none of them met my eyes. "Move," Maren said. I turned and walked into the frozen pines. The snow crunched under my boots, and the heat pulled me forward like a hook behind my navel, my body desperate for something I didn't want to name. Behind me, Silver Hollow disappeared into the dark. Ahead, only snow and shadow and the growing ache between my legs. I thought of Archer's hands, steady on my skin. I thought of the white wolf hair dissolving into light. Soon. The wind shifted. A scent hit me that stopped my heart. Pine. Smoke. And something wild. Something that made the omega in me whimper and the man in me want to run. But I kept walking.The water wasn't cold. It wasn't warm either. It felt like nothing and everything at once, and the moment I touched it, the world fell away.I was no longer in the temple. I was standing in the same chamber, but it was different. The walls were brighter, the carvings fresh and sharp, and the pool before me glowed with a light that came from somewhere deep beneath the earth. A woman knelt at the water's edge, her white hair loose around her shoulders, her hands submerged in the glowing pool. She was chanting, low and steady, and the words vibrated through the stone like a heartbeat."I swear to protect the Book of Blood with my life," the woman said, and her voice echoed in the chamber. "To carry its knowledge through the ages, to defend it from those who would misuse it, and to pass it on to the one who comes after me. This I vow, before the Luminara and the ancestors. This I vow, as the first Guardian."The woman lifted her hands from the water, and the light clung to her fingers lik
The building wasn't a building. It was a temple—or had been, once. The stones were covered in carvings, the same symbols from the Book of Blood, worn by centuries of wind and water.I stopped at the threshold and let my eyes adjust to the dimness. The structure was larger than it had looked from the ridge, its walls rising higher than I'd expected, its entrance framed by pillars that leaned like old men. Moss and ivy crawled over every surface, and the air inside smelled of stone and water and something older. Something sacred.Papa Caelum stood beside me, his breath slow and even. I could feel his awe through the bond web, but also his wariness. He had dreamed of this place for thirty years, and now that he was finally here, he didn't know what to do with himself."It's real," he murmured, and his voice echoed in the stillness. "The carvings. The symbols. It's all real."Mirren moved past us, her spirit-wolf glowing faintly in the gloom. She reached out and touched one of the carving
The forest changed the further east we went. The trees grew taller, older, their roots twisted into shapes that looked like faces. And the deeper we rode, the more I felt like something was watching.I kept my hand near the Book of Blood, which I had wrapped in oilcloth and strapped to my saddle. It had been quiet since the vision, but I could feel it stirring now, like a wolf waking from a long sleep. The pull was stronger here, closer to the source, and it made my skin prickle.Papa Caelum rode beside me, his amber-gold eyes scanning the treeline. He had been quiet since we left Silver Hollow, lost in memories he still hadn't fully shared. I didn't push him. The dream had been his secret for thirty years, and he needed time to process what it meant to finally see it with his own eyes.Mirren rode on my other side, her spirit-wolf flowing through the underbrush like a silver shadow. The wolf had been appearing more and more as we traveled, as if the landscape itself was calling to he
"When I was nineteen, before I met your fathers, I had a dream about a lake," I said. "A lake with a stone building on its shore. And a woman singing in a language I didn't know."The study was quiet. The fire had burned down to embers, and the morning light was still pale through the windows. My children sat around me—Theron in the chair by the desk, Mirren on the floor with her spirit-wolf curled beside her, Sable perched on the arm of the sofa with her legs tucked under her. They were all watching me with the same expression: a mix of confusion and something that might have been fear.I didn't blame them. I had kept this secret for thirty years, and now it was spilling out of me like water through a cracked dam."I was nineteen," I said again, and my voice was distant. "The pack had just sent me into the snow to die. I was burning with heat serum, and I was sure I was going to freeze to death. But before Bastian found me, I dreamed." I paused, and the memory rose up like smoke. "A
Sable perched on the kitchen counter, swinging her legs. "So we're going on an adventure? Finally. I was getting bored."I sat at the table with a cup of tea that had long gone cold, the morning light filtering through the window. Mirren was beside me, her spirit-wolf a faint shimmer at the edge of my vision. Sable looked from me to Mirren and back again, her amber-gold eyes bright with excitement. She was thirteen now, all elbows and knees and wild energy, and she had been complaining for weeks that nothing interesting ever happened."It's not an adventure," I said. "It's a mission. The Book showed me something. A place called Kaelen's Rest."Sable stopped swinging her legs. "Kaelen's Rest? I've never heard of it.""Neither have we," Mirren said quietly. "Theron saw it in a vision. A lake, ancient trees, a stone structure half-sunk in the shore. And a voice, chanting a song he almost recognized."Sable leaned forward, and her grin faded into something more serious. "That sounds like
The Book didn't speak in words. It spoke in feelings—a pull beneath my ribs, a warmth that spread through my chest, a whisper that sounded like my own voice but older.I woke in the deepest dark, the room cold and still, my heart already pounding. The Book was on my desk where I'd left it, but it was open now, its pages turning without wind. I sat up slowly, my breath misting in the air, and I watched the silver script shift and rearrange itself like water finding a new path.Three months. For three months the Book had been quiet, resting in my care, its pages showing only the genealogies I had already read a hundred times. But tonight it was awake. Tonight it wanted something.I swung my legs out of bed and crossed the room on bare feet. The floor was freezing, but I didn't care. The pull was too strong. The Book glowed faintly, and as I drew closer, I saw that the pages were no longer filled with names. They were filled with lines and shapes. A map.The lines formed coastlines and r
They shoved Bastian into the pit before I could even stand. The crowd roared. And I felt the first blow land in my own ribs. An enforcer with a scar splitting his chin dragged me up a set of stone steps to a wooden ledge that overlooked the fighting pit. The chamber was underground, carved into th
Bastian's hands were still raised when the first arrow punched into his shoulder. He didn't flinch. He just looked at me—claimed, bleeding, mine—and said, "Keep your head down. No matter what." The enforcers swarmed the clearing before I could answer. Maren Holt barked orders, and her wolves fanne
I couldn't fight. I couldn't shift. But when the first rogue lunged through the cave mouth, my body moved before my mind could stop it.The attack came fast. Three wolves burst through the entrance with snapping jaws and matted fur, their ribs showing through patchy coats. They smelled like rot and
“I’ve been alone for ten years,” Bastian said, his back still turned. “I should have killed you the moment I caught your scent. I tried. My wolf wouldn’t let me.”I lay on the cold stone, shivering and burning, my cheek pressed to the rough floor. The fire Bastian had built spat and crackled betwee







