ETHAN
Ana 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
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