LOGINVictory has a way of lying to you.It wraps itself around your shoulders like warmth after a long storm, whispers that it’s over, that you’ve survived, that whatever comes next will be easier.I believed that… for a moment.Standing in the Shallow Valleys, surrounded by the Darkbreeds, with Zach grabbing my arms and the echoes of battle finally fading into silence, I let myself breathe.Just once.Just long enough to feel it.He was real.Warm.Alive.Mine.His small fingers curled into the fabric of my clothing, holding on with a quiet certainty that cut deeper than any blade ever could. His head rested against my chest, his breathing soft, steady… grounding me in a way nothing else ever had.“I have you,” I murmured.Zach didn't say anything.The words came out softer than I expected.Not a command.Not a promise shouted into the void.Just… truth.Zira stood nearby, watching with something close to relief in her eyes. Aisha leaned against a rock not far off, her strength still reco
War has a rhythm.You don’t hear it at first. You think it’s chaos, noise, blood and fury colliding without meaning. But once you’ve stood in the middle of it, once you’ve felt it move through you, you realise…It’s not chaos.It’s a pulse.And that day, as I stood at the edge of Silvercrest with the Darkbreeds behind me, I could feel it.Steady.Building.Waiting.I had come back for one thing.Not revenge.Not dominance.Not even justice.Zach.Everything else—Would burn if it had to.“Are you ready?” Krager’s voice came from beside me.I didn’t look at him.My eyes were fixed ahead, on the towering gates of Silvercrest, on the wolves already gathering beyond them, on the tension thickening the air like a storm about to break.“I’ve been ready,” I said.That wasn’t entirely true.No one is ever ready for war.But I was ready for this.For what had to be done.Behind me, the Darkbreeds shifted, their presence unlike anything Silvercrest had ever faced. They weren’t wolves. They didn
I didn’t remember deciding to kill her.Like my thoughts were playing it all over again.Not in the way people think decisions happen, with thought and hesitation and consequence weighed like stones in your hand.It was simpler than that.Cleaner.I knew.Selene was on her knees, her breath uneven, her composure shattered in a way I had never seen before. The woman who had stood in front of me with quiet certainty, who had dismissed me, mocked me, controlled everything around her like a puppeteer, was gone.What remained was something fragile.Something stripped.And I could feel it.That thread.That connection that had always been there between her and Clay… between her and whatever unnatural hold she had built over this place.It was unravelling.Because of me.Because I had touched it.Because I had torn something away.Her eyes lifted slowly to mine.And for the first time—There was no calculation in them.No manipulation.Just… realisation.“You…” she whispered, her voice barel
We left him in silence.Not the kind that fades gently or settles into something peaceful. This one followed us, stretched between every step like a thread pulled too tight, threatening to snap at any moment. Clay didn’t call me back. He didn’t stop me. But I could feel his gaze long after I turned away, like something unfinished hanging between us.Selene walked ahead, her posture composed, controlled, as if nothing we had said had touched her. But I had seen it. That flicker. That fracture. She was holding it together, but barely.Zimora lingered closer to me this time.Not behind.Not ahead.Beside.Curious.Watching.“You’re either very brave,” she said softly, “or very foolish.”“Maybe both,” I replied.She smiled slightly.“I hope it’s the second.”I didn’t answer.Because my attention had already shifted.Something or someone caught my eye just ahead, at the turn of the corridor.A shadow where there shouldn’t have been one.A figure half-hidden, half-still, like it didn’t want
The room had grown quieter.Not because the cruelty had stopped. Not because the tension had eased.But because something else had taken its place.Awareness.Not theirs.Mine.Zira still hung in chains, her breathing uneven but steady enough to tell me she hadn’t broken. Zimora had retreated to the edge of the room again, watching, always watching, like a predator waiting for the next moment to strike. Selene stood closer to the doorway now, her attention shifting between me and whatever calculations ran endlessly through her mind.And me?I stood in the middle of it all.Still.Unarmed.But no longer powerless.The darkness inside me had settled into something… familiar. Not comfortable. Not safe. But known. Like a language I hadn’t spoken before, but somehow understood instinctively.It moved when I thought.It listened when I focused.It obeyed when I willed it.And that terrified me just enough to keep me careful.But not enough to stop me.Because for the first time since I step
Pain has a sound.I didn’t understand that before.Not truly.I thought pain was something you felt. Something that lived under your skin, behind your ribs, in the hollow spaces where fear and memory curled together.But I was wrong.Pain has a sound.And once you hear it enough… it never leaves you.Zira’s breathing had changed.That was the first thing I noticed after the screaming stopped.Not silence.Not relief.Just… change.Shallow. Controlled. Forced into something steady by sheer will alone.Zimora had stepped back, not because she was finished, but because she was satisfied. For now. She moved like someone savouring a meal, not rushing, not wasting anything.Selene lingered beside me, still watching, still measuring.And me?I stood there.Still.Quiet.But something inside me had shifted.Not broken.Shifted.At first, I thought it was anger.The same fire that had been burning in me since the moment I walked into Silvercrest. The same rage that clawed at my chest every tim
5 Years AgoClay came to me at dawn.Not with the thunder of an Alpha or the certainty of a warrior, but quietly, like a man who knew he stood on fragile grou
5 Years AgoElder Torin came to me at dusk, when the royal chambers had settled into their uneasy quiet. I remember thinking, as I watched him cross the threshold of my sitting chamber, that men like Torin never came w
Five Years Ago.You don’t understand what it’s like,” she said, her voice sharper now. “To lose everything.To survive by knowin
Five Years AgoThe council chamber had not felt this tense in years.Clay stood at the centre of the circle, shoulders squared, jaw set. Clay, as usual, looked cold, as if the events of Silver Crest did not affect him. Around him sat the council elders, men and women whose fur had long since silver







