I’m a lone wolf without a pack.
All my defiance, all my strength, comes from a confidence that I have a place, even if I disagree. But I was wrong. For the first hour, I sob my way through the woods of Whispering Pines like a broken pup, my arms wrapped around my waist, unable to believe my actions led to this. I’ve lost everything. The cool night air embraces me, the familiar scents of pine and earth offering small comfort. I pause beneath the towering evergreens, their branches whispering secrets to the moon above. "Where do I belong?" I whisper to the night, my eyes stinging with more tears waiting to be unleashed. The grandeur of Luna's Veil, which has always been my sanctuary, now seems a vast and alien landscape—one where my defiant spirit roams without a pack, without a home. What is there for me? To join another pack as an outcast? Find the humans and hide who I am for the rest of my existence? I don’t want to create a place for myself away from my pack. Away from my sister. I feel the gnawing ache of my solitude, a reminder that strength and defiance, while powerful, are not enough to fill the void of belonging. I draw to a halt. Ethan cut me off. That must mean I’m no longer promised to him. He can’t be bound to someone outside his pack. I’m free. My boots crunch over the frosted underbrush as I venture deeper into Luna's Veil. With each step, the stinging chill of the night air seems to cleanse the remnants of my heated confrontation with Ethan. Here, in the heart of the forest, the moon's ethereal glow filters through the canopy, casting dappled patterns on the ground. The scents of pine and earth mingle in my nostrils, grounding me in the present moment. I breathe deeply, letting the wildness of the wilderness infuse my lungs, my bloodstream, my very being. The calls of nocturnal creatures are a chorus that speaks of life continuing unabated, regardless of the pettiness of pack politics. Tonight I’ll sleep, let my soul rejuvenate. And then I’ll decide my next course of action. Where I’ll go. As a banished wolf, my options are limited, but they do exist. The terrain grows rugged the farther I push into the forest, and I welcome the test to my body’s limits. Muscles flex and extend with grace, honed by years of survival training. A fallen tree bars my path, its massive trunk a testament to a battle lost against the elements. I vault over it, landing softly on the other side. I pause at the edge of a stream, its silver ribbon of water reflecting the moon's soft luminescence. Droplets fling into the air as the current clashes with rocks. Energy pulses through my limbs. I lower myself into a crouch before breaking into a run. My breaths come in heavy clouds, my heart pounding a wild rhythm against my ribs. The forest around me is alive with nocturnal whispers, the cool touch of night air caressing my heated skin, the soles of my boots gripping the earth beneath. I stop in a clearing bathed in moonlight, chest heaving, and let out a raw, primal laugh. My voice echoes, mingling with the calls of distant wolves. Other wolves. I’m close to our territorial boundary. A rustling from the shadows catches my attention, and I spin around, but I catch his scent before I see him. Ethan Blackwood. My alpha. My former mate. He’s the embodiment of what I fight against, his blue eyes reflecting the moon's glow with an intensity that matches my own. “Did you follow me?” I growl, and my lips pull back in a snarl. Running brings out the wolf in me. Not to mention the wild male scent rolling off him. “Lyla.” He exhales. “I acted without thinking.” “Like you always do,” I shoot back. “Exactly like an Alpha should not do.” He doesn’t acknowledge my insult. "We can work this out. Come back to the pack." His voice rumbles, a plea wrapped in the cloak of command. For a moment, I tilt toward him. Not even an hour ago, all I wanted was my place back with the pack. “Come back to me,” he adds, and I rear back. "No." If there was one thing of benefit that came from this, it was breaking our bond. I don’t want to be the alpha’s mate. He glances around us, at the forest, the stream, and his eyes narrow. “You’re too close to Nightshade territory. Do you even realize where you’ve wandered?” My face flushes hot. “You sent me away,” I snap. “What does it matter where I go?” “Any pack but the Nightshades,” he snaps back. “They’ll kill you before you can plead your case. Just for being a Blackwood.” “I’ll take my chances.” Anger mixed with guilt flashes behind his stoic exterior. "Dammit, Lyla! You would turn to the enemy over your own pack? You belong with us—with me." He strides closer, the air between us crackling. "Not anymore," I shoot back, my voice laced with passion, my body unconsciously leaning towards his despite my resolve. “You released me.” “Not from our bond,” he growls, and he grabs my arm and yanks me to him. I snarl at his touch as heat flames through my body. In a heartbeat, our argument erupts into a primal longing. Ethan grasps my face in his hands, his lips crashing against mine in a frenzy of need. My response is just as fervent, my fingers urgently pulling at his shirt, craving the heat of his skin against mine. Our kiss is a blend of punishment and absolution, each movement stoking the fire of our connection. I can feel Ethan's inner turmoil through the intensity of his touch. I know I shouldn't want him like this—I’m supposed to hate him for all the pain he’s caused me—but I can't deny the pull between us. "I can't lose you," Ethan breathes, cupping my face. I try to push him away, but he pulls me closer to him, our bodies pressing together once more. “Don’t leave me,” he says. And then he kisses me. I groan against his mouth as his fingers migrate down my thigh, stroking me through my pants. I’m powerless to stop this. Damn you, Ethan! I think. Our kisses are feverish and urgent. Each taste is a heady mixture of want and need, driving us both into a frenzied state. His teeth nick my lip, and I snarl, my claws coming out and tearing the shirt from his back. An almost metallic taste lingers in my mouth as I surrender to the raw desire pulsing through me. Ethan's hands fall on my hips, tearing my pants away as he hauls me to the forest floor, and then his mouth is between my legs, his tongue working its way between my folds, pleasuring me while I moan, clutching his hair, giving into the magnetic pull of his body. I’m lost to the sensations coursing through my body. Every touch is like a jolt of electricity and I can't get enough. Each flick of his tongue brings me closer and closer to the edge. I hear him growling with pleasure against me, and it only makes me want him more. Finally, with a cry of ecstasy, I reach my peak. My entire body shakes as waves of pleasure wash over me, and I cling to Ethan desperately. He continues to pleasure me until I come down from the high, kissing his way back up to meet my lips. My nails dig into Ethan’s back as he frees himself from his pants and positions himself above me, his eyes bright with expectation. Like he thinks something’s changed. Like he thinks I’ll finally let him penetrate me. I can’t. It’s the one thing I’ve kept from him, and if I let him now, he’ll think I accept him, that I’m coming back to the pack, that I’m willing to be his mate. “No,” I say, pushing him back and kneeling between his legs. My fingers deftly find his throbbing cock. “I have something else in mind.”ETHANAna steps into the clearing, her expression confused as she takes in the scene before her—me, standing tensely by a bundle on the offering stone. Her light hair is pulled back in a simple braid, her clothing practical for a night run. She must have been patrolling near the border, though this area isn't on the regular route."Alpha?" she calls softly, her brow furrowed. "What are you doing out here so late?"Panic floods through me. She can't be here. Not now. Not when the Slavers are due to arrive any minute. If they find her witnessing the handoff, they'll kill her without hesitation. Or worse—take her too."Ana," I say, fighting to keep my voice calm while every instinct screams at me to grab her and run. "You need to leave. Now."But it's too late. Her enhanced hearing has already picked up the soft sounds coming fr
A silence falls, thick as sap. The only movement is the slow collapse of the rogue wolf’s chest, a last trickle of blood threading through the fur and down to the earth. The steam of it curls into the frigid air and vanishes like it never existed. My breath fogs the same way, fading fast. I stare at my hands, at the dirt packed under my nails, and wonder if I’ll ever feel clean again.“We should bury him,” I say, because it’s the only thing that comes out. Words scrape my throat raw.Kalen nods, slow and heavy, like every motion costs him. “Yeah.”We drag the old Alpha’s corpse across the frozen ground. The body is heavier than it should be, weighed down not just by flesh but by history, by every fear and secret we’ve carried. Kalen drops to his knees and starts tearing at the earth with his bare hands. I join him, and together we scrape a shallow pit. The ground resists us, every rock sealed in ice, each one feeling like a coffin already waiting. The smell is worse out here than in t
LIAMKalen hesitates, and in that pause I see the whole history of our kind, every story of madness and exile and some poor bastard clawing at the moon until he puts his own eyes out. My skin prickles with the memory of old stories, the ones the elders whisper when they think no one’s listening.Kalen’s voice shakes, but he muscles through. “My father loved my mother. More than the pack. The curse took him. Started slow—just little things. Forgetting meetings. Leaving the sides of sick wolves to go hunt. It got worse. First time he missed a coming-of-age, the Council started talking. Second time, they threatened to vote him out. Third time, he nearly tore out a Beta’s throat because the guy made a cheap joke about Luna’s gift.“Then my mother got sick. Nothing we did could keep her alive. When she died, he went… blank. Like the whole world
LIAMThe Rogue thrashes, curled fingers raking Kalen’s back like claws, but Kalen just holds on tighter, rocking it like a terrified child. I realize, in that moment, that this isn’t violence. It’s mercy. It’s goodbye.The Rogue sags in his arms, jaws working air, claws spasming at nothing. The two of them rock, and for a moment, it’s almost peaceful. Then Kalen wrenches his arms, hard and sudden, and there’s an ugly wet sound that echoes off the cave walls, and the body goes limp.For a second, nobody breathes.I see the Rogue’s face, slack and almost gentle in death, and something about the line of its jaw, the set of the brow, punches a hole through memory. Nightshade features. Not warped, not lost, just… changed.I get it then, with a clarity that scorches. The thing at Kalen’s feet isn’t just some random freak from the shadows. It’s the missing Alpha.His father.I want to vomit. Or scream. Or just run until I forget every fucked-up thing I’ve seen tonight. The world’s gone tilt
The trail Kalen left is plain as blood on snow. I move through the undergrowth silent, keeping low, keeping downwind. I don’t shift—not yet. I want my wits about me, want to see the world as a man before I lose myself in wolf-logic.He’s headed for the old Veil, the place where the trees crowd so tight you have to turn sideways to breathe. It’s suicide to run that line after dark. Which means he’s either lost his mind, or he knows I’m coming and wants to be found.I catch a glimpse of him at the treeline, and for a second he looks back. Just a flash of profile—jaw clenched, eyes hollow, a man running from ghosts or toward them.I think about Adelaide, about her words, about the taste of her perfume on the air. Then I think about Kalen, and the way my life has always orbited his, always subordinate, always less. I wonder if I could have taken him,
“Kalen,” my father rasps in the memory of a voice. “Took you long enough.”I can’t breathe. I can’t even scream. Every nightmare I ever had was softer than this. Not this. Anything but this.“You left,” I manage. “You died.”He coughs, a wet, rattling sound. “Everything dies. Even Nightshade Alphas.” His fingers move, clutching something close to his chest. I see it glint in the candlelight: a ring, silver and old, with our pack’s crest.“I needed… time,” he says. “To figure out the end. Before it takes me.”He gestures at the wall behind him, and I see it’s covered in scratches—names, dates, cycles of the moon, all written in dried blood and desperation.“This is madness,” I whisp