Chapter 4

Four months passed.

Elena's belly swelled, round and heavy beneath her loose tunics. She moved slowly now, her back aching, her feet swollen. But she still worked. She sterilized instruments, organized supplies, and watched Thomas treat the steady stream of outcasts who passed through Haven House.

The rogues whispered about her. A pregnant omega with no mate, no pack, no history. Some pitied her. Others sneered. But no one asked questions. Thomas had made it clear: everyone deserved a second chance.

Inside Elena's chest, her wolf had grown stronger. The pregnancy had awakened something in her

a primal ferocity that she had suppressed since childhood. She could feel the twins moving inside her, two distinct presences: one fierce and restless, the other calm and humming.

They're growing. They're strong. They're fighting.

But she also felt the Silver Sickness taking root. Sometimes, when she pressed her hand to her belly, she felt a faint silver glow beneath her skin. The twins' bloodlines were already at war.

"The symptoms will start showing by the time they're four," Thomas had warned. "You have until then."

Four years. I have four years to find the cure.

At night, Elena lay awake, clutching the silver pendant. The bond between her and Kaelen pulsed with a dull, distant rhythm. He was still hunting; she could feel his frustration, his desperate hunger, his relentless determination.

Come to me, little wolf. Bring me my heirs.

"I won't," she whispered into the darkness. "They're mine."

But her wolf whined in protest. Mate. Ours. Come.

The twins arrived on a stormy autumn night.

Elena woke to a sharp, tearing pain in her lower back. She gasped, clutching the cot, her breath coming in ragged pants. Thomas rushed to her side, his face pale with urgency.

"It's time," he said. "Push, Elena. Push."

She screamed as the first contraction ripped through her. Her wolf howled inside her, raw and primal. The lights flickered. The windows rattled.

Leo came first, a screaming, squalling boy with a shock of dark hair and eyes that flickered silver before settling into a deep, burning gold. He came out fighting, his tiny fists clenched, his cry fierce enough to shake the walls.

Lily followed twenty minutes later. She was smaller and quieter, her features delicate, her skin pale as moonlight. She didn't cry. She simply looked up at Elena with ancient, knowing eyes and hummed a low, purring vibration that calmed the storm outside.

Thomas placed them in Elena's arms, and she wept.

"Look at them," Thomas murmured, his eyes glistening. "Perfect. Healthy."

For now, Elena thought. For now.

She named them Leo and Lily light and resilience. She would need both to save them.

The first year was a blur of sleepless nights and stolen moments.

Elena nursed the twins, held them, and watched them grow. Leo was fierce and demanding, always reaching, always pushing. Lily was gentle and observant, her humming power soothing the most agitated patients in the clinic.

By six months, Leo could lift his head and glare with a ferocity that made the other rogues flinch. By nine months, Lily could calm a screaming wolf with a single touch.

Lycan traits. Elena recognized them with a sinking heart.

The silver pendant around her neck pulsed warm every time the twins cried. The bond between her and Kaelen remained taut, a fishing line stretched across the continent. He was still looking for her. She could feel his rage, his frustration, his desperate hunger.

Come to me, he whispered in her dreams. Bring me my heirs.

"I won't," she hissed. "They're mine."

But the truth was, they were his too. And the day he found them, he would take them.

Leo's first seizure came on his third birthday.

Elena was in the clinic's kitchen, preparing his cake. Lily sat on the floor, drawing with chalk. Leo was playing with his wooden soldiers, staging a dramatic battle.

Then he screamed.

The sound shattered two windows. Elena spun around, dropping the cake. Leo's small body arched off the floor, his veins glowing silver beneath his skin. His eyes rolled back. His wolf surged forward, trapped, fighting against the Lycan blood that poisoned him.

"Leo!" Elena dove to his side, grabbing his thrashing body. "Leo, baby, look at me!"

Lily joined her, her humming power surging out of control. The air vibrated with magic. The lights flickered. The walls groaned.

And then Lily's eyes rolled back too. She collapsed beside her brother, her tiny hands clawing at the floor, silver veins crawling up her neck.

Elena screamed for Thomas.

He came running, his face ashen. He helped her hold the twins through the worst of it three minutes of pure, unadulterated agony. When it finally subsided, Leo and Lily lay limp in their mother's arms, their breathing shallow, their faces pale.

"Please," Elena begged, tears streaming down her face. "Please tell me there's something we can do."

Thomas looked old, worn out. He knelt beside her, his hand resting on her shoulder.

"There is one thing," he said quietly. "The medical summit in Silvermoon territory. It's happening next month. They're offering high-paying contracts to elite physicians. If you can get in close to the pack library there might be a copy of the cure."

Silvermoon. Alpha Brandon's territory.

Elena's stomach turned. "I can't go back there. He'll kill me."

"He doesn't know who you are anymore," Thomas said gently. "You're not the omega he rejected. You're a highly skilled rogue physician with years of experience. Wear a disguise. Use a false name. Get in, get the cure, get out."

Elena stared at her twins—Leo, trembling, his silver eyes fading to gold; Lily, exhausted, her humming power flickering in and out.

She didn't have a choice.

"Fine," she said. "I'll go."

The night before she left, Elena sat in her room, staring at her reflection.

She had changed. Her dark hair hung past her shoulders, thick and glossy. Her cheekbones were sharper, her jaw firmer. Three years of living in the Neutral Zone fighting, surviving, healing others had carved a steel core into her spine.

She wasn't the weeping omega who had crawled through the snow.

She tucked the silver pendant beneath her tunic. She pinned her hair into a severe bun and donned a pair of wire-rimmed glasses plain, forgettable. Her name tag read Dr. Elena Vane, close enough to her real name to feel natural, different enough to avoid suspicion.

"Ready?" Thomas asked, leaning in the doorway.

"No," she admitted. "But I'm doing it anyway."

She kissed Leo and Lily goodbye. They were staying with Thomas in a hidden safe house, protected by ward spells and scent-blockers.

"We'll be okay, Mama," Lily said, her small hand patting Elena's cheek. "Our wolves are strong."

Elena forced a smile. "I know, baby. I know."

She left before they could see her cry.

The drive to Silvermoon territory took six hours. The familiar pine forests rose around her, dark and imposing. She passed the border the very spot where she had been tossed out like garbage and felt a cold fury settle in her bones.

I'm not the same woman, Brandon. You're about to find out.

She arrived at the Silvermoon medical summit just as the sun dipped below the horizon. The main hall was packed with physicians, pack elders, and visiting Alphas. Elena adjusted her glasses, squared her shoulders, and walked in.

The first person she saw was Beta Cynthia, older now, more polished, dripping in diamonds. The second was Alpha Brandon.

He stood at the head of the room, his dark hair graying at the temples, his blue eyes scanning the crowd with predatory boredom. When his gaze passed over Elena, it flickered just for a second and then moved on.

He didn't recognize her.

Good.

Elena took her seat among the physicians, her heart racing. She was a stranger here. Just another doctor.

The summit's first case was presented: a high-ranking Silvermoon warrior with a mysterious paralysis. Several physicians offered half-baked diagnoses. Alpha Brandon grew visibly impatient.

"Is there anyone here with actual skill?" he snapped.

Elena rose to her feet. "I'll take the case."

Brandon's eyes snapped to her. "And who are you?"

"Dr. Elena Vane," she said coolly. "Rogue physician. And I can cure your warrior in ten minutes."

The room erupted in murmurs. Brandon's jaw tightened, but he gestured for her to proceed.

Elena walked to the warrior, examined his pulse, his eyes, his spine. She recognized the symptoms instantly, a rare venom from the Northern swamp snakes that had been misdiagnosed as paralysis.

She administered the correct antidote. The warrior stood up, his legs working again, his face slack with amazement.

"Impossible," Brandon whispered.

Elena turned to face him, her expression blank.

"Nothing is impossible," she said. "You just have to know what you're looking at."

And for the first time, Alpha Brandon looked at her, really looked at her, and saw not a stranger, but a woman with silver-blue eyes that stirred something deep and dangerous in his chest.

His wolf stirred.

Who is she?

Elena felt the shift. Brandon's secondary mate-pull the desperate, instinctual attraction that happens when a rejected mate survives and evolves slid over her skin.

She suppressed a shudder.

Too late, Alpha. I'm not yours to claim anymore.

But her wolf growled in warning.

He's dangerous. He'll try to take you back.

Elena forced a calm smile and returned to her seat.

The summit had only just begun.

And she had a cure to find.