three

The kiss didn’t just taste like rebellion; it tasted like an ending.

When Killian’s lips finally parted from mine, He was still hovering over me, his weight a delicious, grounding pressure that my wolf was currently purring for—a sound I hadn’t known she was capable of making.

He looked down at me, his amber eyes dark with something that bordered on agony. He traced the curve of my shoulder, his fingers lingering on the skin just above my sports bra.

"You have no idea what you just did, do you?" he whispered.

"I sparred with a prince," I said, my voice breathy and raw. "And I think I won the first round."

A ghost of a smile flickered on his lips, but it didn't reach his eyes. "This isn't a game, Kaia. The moment our scents tangled like this... it started something. The bond between an Alpha and an Omega isn't supposed to exist”

He stood up abruptly, offering me a hand. When I took it, a spark shot up my arm, a literal jolt of electricity that made my teeth ache. He pulled me to my feet with effortless strength, bringing me flush against his chest for one heartbeat longer than necessary.

"Go," he muttered, his voice tight. "Clean the scent of me off you. Use the lye soap in the back of the wash-house—it’s the only thing that will strip an Alpha’s mark. If your father smells me on you, he won’t just punish you. He’ll break you to prove a point."

"And what about you?" I asked, looking up at him. "You’re covered in me, too."

Killian’s gaze turned predatory, a dark, shimmering pride surfacing in his eyes. "Let them smell you on me. Let them wonder who the wolf is that finally made the Alpha’s son weak in his knees."

I didn't sleep. I spent two hours in the wash-house, scrubbing my skin until it was raw and red. The lye stung, biting into the small scratches from our spar, but I welcomed the pain. It was a distraction from the way my body still felt like it was humming at Killian’s frequency.

By dawn, I was back in the kitchens, my movements mechanical. I hauled crates of winter root vegetables and prepped the massive iron cauldrons for the morning stew.

"You look like hell, Kaia," Elena remarked, leaning against the flour-dusted counter. She was nibbling on a piece of dried venison, her eyes narrowed. "You were out late. Training again? Or did you finally find a closet to hide in while the rest of us did the work?”

"Just training," I said, dumping a sack of potatoes onto the table with a thud.

Elena walked closer, her nose twitching. As an Omega, her sense of smell was refined, designed to pick up on the moods and needs of the pack leaders. I held my breath, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs.

"Funny," she mused, leaning in toward my neck. "You smell like... ozone. And something else."

"It's the lye," I snapped, turning away to grab a paring knife. "I had to clean the grease off the floors last night. It stays in the skin."

She didn't look convinced, but the sounding of the Horn interrupted her interrogation.

Three blasts. The summons for a Full Pack Assembly.

The entire Silver Moon pack gathered, the breath of hundreds of wolves rising in white plumes like ghostly prayers.

I stood in my designated place at the very back, among the "unranked." My father stood on the high ledge with the other council members, looking down at us. Jace was a few steps behind him, looking puffed up and important.

Then, Alpha Marcus stepped forward. Beside him, looking stoic and terrifyingly handsome in his formal black leather, was Killian.

He didn't look at me. Not once. It was as if the night before had been a fever dream.

"Packmates," Alpha Marcus’s voice echoed off the stone walls. "The return of my son marks a new era for Silver Moon. But we do not live in peaceful times. The Shadow Fang pack has moved into the northern valley. They challenge our borders. They challenge our strength."

A low growl rippled through the crowd. The Shadow Fangs were notorious—brutal, lawless, and led by an Alpha who believed in total subjugation.

"To lead," Marcus continued, "Killian must have a circle of warriors who are not just loyal, but elite. Traditionally, this circle is chosen from the Beta and Delta bloodlines. However..." He paused, his gaze sweeping over the crowd. "Killian has requested a change in tradition. He has called for The Gauntlet."

A collective gasp broke the silence. The Gauntlet was an ancient, brutal trial. It was open to anyone. Anyone.

"The top five survivors will become the Prince’s Guard," Marcus announced. "Rank will not save you. Bloodlines will not carry you. Only strength matters."

My heart soared. This was it. This was my chance to move out of the kitchens, to be recognized as the warrior I knew I was. I looked toward the ledge, my eyes searching for Killian’s.

He finally looked at me. His expression was unreadable, but there was a challenge in the tilt of his head.

"But," Marcus added, his voice dropping to a somber note, "there is a second purpose for this assembly. A leader must also provide for the future. Killian is of age. By the end of the new moon, he must choose a mate."

I felt the blood drain from my face.

"We have invited the high-ranking daughters of the North-Crest and Iron-Claw packs to join the trials," Marcus said. "Killian will choose the strongest Alpha or Beta female to stand by his side as the future Luna of Silver Moon."

The Omegas around me started whispering excitedly, but I felt like I had been punched in the gut. I was an Omega. I was plus-sized. I was the "throwback." Even if I won The Gauntlet, I could never be his Luna.

The law was cruel.

Killian’s face remained a mask of indifference, but I saw his jaw tighten.

"Don't even think about it," a voice growled in my ear.

I didn't have to turn to know it was my father. The assembly was breaking up, and he had caught me before I could disappear into the woods to process the news.

"Think about what, Father?" I asked, keeping my head down.

"The Gauntlet. You will stay in the kitchens. You will not embarrass this family by failing a trial meant for your betters." He stepped closer, his presence suffocating. "And I know you were out last night. I know you think you’re clever."

He leaned in, his nose brushing against the side of my neck. I felt a surge of pure, icy terror. The lye. Please, let the lye have worked.

My father stayed there for a long beat, sniffing the air. His eyes narrowed, and a look of profound confusion and then cold, rage crossed his face.

"You smell like him," he whispered, the words vibrating with malice. "You smell like the Prince."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I lied, my voice trembling. "I was prepping the feast—"

"I am the Beta of this pack, Kaia! Do not lie to me about scents!" He grabbed my arm, his fingers bruising the muscle. "Did he touch you? Did he use you like a common tavern girl?"

"No!"

"If you have compromised his mating, if you have tainted the Alpha bloodline with your... your diluted soul..." He trailed off, his eyes darting toward the dais where Killian and Marcus were still talking.

Suddenly, my father’s grip loosened. A dark, twisted smile pulled at his lips.

"Actually," he murmured, "this might be useful. A scandal like this... it could ruin the Blackwood line. If the people know their future Alpha is obsessed with a fat Omega throwback, they’ll look to the Beta line for leadership. They’ll look to Jace."

"What are you saying?" I gasped.

"I'm saying you're going to enter The Gauntlet, Kaia," my father said, his voice dripping with venom. "But you aren't going to win. You're going to be the sacrificial lamb. I’m going to make sure everyone sees exactly what you are and exactly what Killian has been wasting his time on."

The first stage of The Gauntlet began at dusk. The participants, nearly fifty of the pack’s strongest were lined up at the edge of the Dead Man’s Ravine.

I stood at the end of the line, my heart heavy. I was wearing my leather sparring gear, my hair braided tight against my head. Jace stood a few feet away, mocking me with his eyes. Killian was perched on a rock above us, acting as the judge.

"The task is simple," Killian called out, his voice carrying over the wind. "Retrieve the silver crest from the bottom of the ravine and return to this spot. The last ten to arrive are eliminated. There are no rules. Use your strength or your wolf."

At the sound of the horn, the line exploded into motion.

I didn't shift. My wolf was powerful, but in the steep, rocky road of the ravine, human hands and feet were more suitable. I scrambled down the rock face, using the cracks I had memorized during my years of wandering the territory.

I reached the bottom, grabbed a silver crest from the pile, and began the grueling climb back up.

I was in the top five. I could see the finish line. I could see Killian standing there, his eyes locked on mine, a flicker of hope behind his mask.

But as I reached for a final handhold, a boot slammed down on my fingers.

I looked up. It was Jace. He wasn't even climbing; he was waiting for me.

"Father says hello," he sneered.

He didn't just kick me. He shifted mid-air, his massive grey wolf form slamming into my chest with the force of a battering ram.

I fell.

The world turned into a blur of grey rock and dark sky. I hit a ledge, the air leaving my lungs in a painful burst, and then I kept falling, tumbling into the black maw of the ravine.

Just before I hit the bottom, I heard a sound that chilled me to the bone.

It wasn't the sound of my own scream. It was the sound of a massive, black wolf letting out a roarfrom the top of the cliff and the sound of a second, unfamiliar pack’s howl rising from the shadows of the trees below me.

I hit the ground, and the world went dark.

When I opened my eyes seconds later, I wasn't alone.

Standing over me wasn't Killian. It wasn't my father.

It was a man with eyes as white as bone, wearing the colors of the Shadow Fang pack. He looked down at my silver crest, then at the Omega mark on my wrist, and grinned.

"Well, well," he rasped, drawing a jagged bone knife. "Looks like the Silver Moon prince left his favorite toy out in the rain."

Beyond him, I saw the silhouettes of a dozen more Shadow Fang warriors emerging from the back.

I tried to stand, but my leg buckled, a bone-deep pain radiating through my hip. I was trapped at the bottom of a ravine, broken and surrounded by the enemy, while the man I loved was forced to watch from the heights above.

"Kill her?" one of the other warriors asked.

"No," the leader said, his eyes gleaming with a sick light. "The Alpha will want this one alive. She smells like the prince's secrets."