Chapter 1

Aeliana POV

The screaming started at midnight.

I jolted awake in Caelan's arms, his body already tense beside me before my mind could fully process what had torn me from sleep. The pack house shuddered around us, and somewhere in the distance, something roared with rage and pain.

"The field," Caelan was already moving, rolling out of bed with fluid grace. Moonlight caught the planes of his back as he reached for his clothes. "They're attacking the field."

I was already grabbing my gear from the closet we shared. Combat boots, reinforced clothing, and the silver blade Elena had given me on my first hunt. "How many?"

"At least a dozen." His voice was grim as he opened the pack bond, flooding our minds with tactical information. All warriors to the field. Rogues on pack territory. This is not a drill.

The response was immediate. Marcus's steady presence, Liora's fierce determination, and David's nervous energy. Our pack was always lowkey, but we were strong, and we'd faced rogue attacks before.

But as we ran through the corridors toward the back exit that led to our training field, something felt wrong. The air itself seemed to vibrate with an energy that made my wolf pace restlessly beneath my skin.

Something's different about these rogues, Marcus's voice echoed through the bond. They're faster. Stronger.

Impossible, Liora responded sharply. Rogues are weaker than pack wolves. Always.

But as we burst through the doors into the moonlit field, I saw immediately what Marcus meant.

The rogues moved with purpose and coordination. Their eyes burned red in the darkness, foam dripping from jaws that had been stretched too wide, but their attacks were calculated. Strategic.

This wasn't the mindless violence of broken wolves. This was war.

"Lia, take the left flank," Caelan commanded through the bond as he shifted, his massive silver wolf appearing beside me. "Drive them toward the center."

I didn't respond with words. My wolf surged forward, bones crackling and reforming as I let her take control. The shift was seamless now, perfected through two years of training and battle. We moved as one mind, one purpose.

The first rogue I engaged was massive, easily twice the size of any I'd faced before. But size meant nothing if you knew where to strike. I went low, claws finding the tendons behind its knee, then danced away before it could retaliate.

It should have gone down.

It didn't even stumble.

What the hell? The thought echoed through the pack bond from multiple sources as similar scenes played out across the field.

They're not normal rogues, I realized, barely dodging a swipe that should have been too slow to threaten me. They're enhanced somehow.

Magic, Liora's mental voice cut through the chaos like a blade. She was locked in combat with two rogues at once, her dark wolf moving with deadly precision. Has to be. Nothing else explains this strength.

Magic. The word sent ice through my veins. We could handle rogues, even large numbers of them. Magic was something else entirely.

Who would do this? Elena's voice joined the bond from the pack house, where she was coordinating the defense of our children and elders. Who has that kind of power?

Before anyone could answer, the rogue I was fighting got lucky. Its claws raked across my shoulder, tearing through fur and flesh like paper. Pain exploded through my system, but more disturbing was what happened next.

The rogue laughed.

"Pretty Luna," it rasped, voice distorted and wet. "She said we could have the pretty Luna if we killed enough of them."

My blood went cold. She?

I tore out its throat before it could say more, but the damage was done. Someone had sent these rogues specifically for me.

The battle raged around us, our pack holding their ground despite being outmatched. Marcus coordinated defensive positions while Liora and David flanked the largest groups. But we were losing ground, and more importantly, we were losing wolves.

Behind you! Caelan's warning came just in time for me to spin and catch the rogue that had been sneaking up on my blind side.

But as I engaged it, something new entered the field.

Singing.

The melody was hauntingly beautiful and absolutely wrong, like a lullaby from beyond the reach of words. It made my wolf whine and pace, made my skin crawl with instinctive revulsion.

What is that? David's mental voice was tight with fear.

The rogues heard it too. But instead of being disturbed, they seemed to grow stronger. Faster. More coordinated.

And then she appeared.

She materialized from the shadows at the edge of the field like smoke given form. Tall and willowy, with  silver hair that moved in a wind that touched nothing else. Her dress was white, pristine despite the battle raging around her, and her voice...

Her voice was the source of that terrible singing.

Annalise. Caelan's mental voice was flat, dangerous, and filled with recognition that made my wolf snarl with sudden jealousy.

You know her? The question came from multiple pack members simultaneously.

I knew her. Before Aeliana. Before I met you.

Understanding hit me like a physical blow. The personal nature of the attack. The way she kept glancing in my direction was like she was looking for someone specific.

This was about jealousy. About a woman scorned.

She's calling more rogues, Marcus observed grimly. Every verse brings new ones.

He was right. Shadows were detaching themselves from the forest, more twisted forms answering her call.

We have to stop her, I realized. Cut off the source.

How? She's protected by at least a dozen rogues.*

But I was already moving, shifting back to human form as I sprinted toward the witch. My pack needed me to end this, and sometimes that meant taking risks.

"Aeliana, no!" Caelan's roar followed me across the field, but I was already past the first line of rogues.

They tried to intercept me, but I'd been training for moments like this. I moved between them like water, using their size against them, their enhanced strength meaningless if they couldn't catch me.

Annalise saw me coming. Her lips curved in a smile that made ice form in my veins.

"There she is," the witch purred, her voice carrying clearly over the sounds of battle. "The little Luna who stole what was mine."

"I didn't steal anything," I snarled, not slowing down. "Caelan chose me."

"Because you bewitched him." Her eyes flashed with malice and power that made the air itself seem to thicken. "But that ends tonight."

I leaped at her, claws extending as I shifted partially, ready to end this before more of my pack could die.

I never made contact.

The moment I got within arm's reach, Annalise's hand shot out, her fingers closing around my wrist. Where her skin touched mine, cold fire raced up my arm. Magic that burned without heat, power that left no visible mark but sank deeper than flesh.

"Did you really think it would be that easy?" she whispered.

The world tilted. Colors bled into each other like watercolors in the rain. Through the distortion, I could see Caelan charging toward us, could feel his rage and terror through our bond.

"A curse," Annalise continued, her grip tightening. "For the woman who took my place. Forget the wolf that lives within you. Let her sleep so deeply she may never wake."

My wolf's presence, always a warm constant in my mind, suddenly went quiet. Not gone, but... distant. Hibernating.

"Forget the pack that calls you family. Forget the mate who chose you over me."

My memories began to feel slippery, like trying to hold onto water. Caelan's face remained clear for now, but everything else started to blur at the edges.

"Wander alone and lost, with nothing but emptiness where love once lived. Let him feel the abandonment I felt. Let him know what it means to lose the one person who matters most."

"No," I whispered, but my voice sounded strange and distant.

Through the haze, I saw Caelan reach us. His claws were extended, murder in his amber eyes as he prepared to tear the witch apart.

But Annalise just smiled.

"Too late, Alpha. The curse is cast. Your precious Luna is already mine."

And then she was gone.

Not running, not shifting, just... gone. Like smoke dispersing in the wind.

Caelan's claws closed on empty air. His roar of fury and desperation echoed across the field, but there was nothing left to fight.

The remaining rogues collapsed where they stood, their strings cut with their mistress's departure.

"Aeliana." Caelan's voice was broken as he gathered me into his arms. "We'll find a way. We'll break this."

Get Elena, he commanded through the pack bond. And Marcus. We need everyone who knows about curses.

That was the last I heard before I slipped into darkness.