5

“That’s what I’ve been trying to say to you since you kidnapped me!” I snapped, swinging my leg off the bike like we were just two friends arguing over coffee instead of a possibly royal-scale disaster. “I am Marigold.”

He yanked his helmet off, massive shoulders straightening. The man—no, the Alpha—towered over me, his shadow swallowing mine whole. His eyes scanned me like he was trying to burn holes through my skin.

“But you have blonde hair. The report said Marigold had dark hair.”

I rolled my eyes so hard I nearly sprained something. “Yeah, genius, I dyed it. People do that when they’re trying not to get murdered. Kind of a survival instinct.”

His jaw flexed. I could see the moment the truth started to hit.

“WHAT THE—” he stopped himself, teeth bared. “I took the wrong girl?”

“Yup.”

“And let Margaux die?!”

“Yup.”

His nostrils flared. “Do you have any idea what that means for the royal family?”

“Not that I care?” I shrugged, deadpan.

“You silly, reckless woman! Margaux’s womb—”

“Oh, ew. Don’t start with that sentence.”

“—is important!” he roared, ignoring me. “She had the strongest bloodline among female wolves. Practically royalty herself. Her pups could have been the next powerhouses of the kingdom!” His voice cracked into a near howl. “And now she’s DEAD.”

I crossed my arms. “Again, not my fault. My brothers killed her. I was too busy trying not to get my own throat slit, thanks very much.”

He turned away, pacing, muttering curses under his breath that probably would have made the Moon Goddess herself blush. Then he let out a howl so deep it rattled the leaves in the trees behind us.

When he turned back, his eyes were blazing. “Do you know what happens now? The royal family will come for blood. They will want answers. And they will want you—because you’re the only surviving twin.”

“Well,” I said with a little too much smugness, “I do have dark hair under this blonde mess. And yes, I have a dark wolf. But hell no, I’m not going to be the bride of a prince who changes women like he changes his shirts.”

His brows shot up. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Please. The wolf gossip forums have been living for the scandal of Prince Leon’s playboy ways. He’s basically the supernatural tabloid king. Real Margaux? She’d probably be twirling in excitement right now. Me? Not a chance.”

He froze, his voice low. “Wait… you mean you have a dark wolf? A warrior wolf?”

“Yeah.” I gave him a pointed look. “What, didn’t your intel packet include that little detail?”

“Your father never mentioned anything about Marigold shifting into a Dark Warrior Wolf,” he muttered, more to himself than to me.

“I don’t care what my father did or didn’t mention in your alpha link,” I said, stepping right into his space. “I’m not here to be their breeding prize. I’m here to survive. So unless you’ve got a plan that doesn’t involve delivering me like some royal A****n order, I’m gone.”

His eyes narrowed, reading me in a way that made me feel like he was peeling away skin. Then his lips curled in something between frustration and reluctant respect.

“Moon help me,” he muttered. “You might just get us both killed.”

“Good,” I said, smirking. “At least I won’t die bored.”

And that’s when I felt it—the distant, unmistakable pull of royal trackers. Maybe 15 minutes away from us. Like the air itself was vibrating with their intent. Gregor’s head snapped toward the horizon.

“They’re coming,” he said, voice grim.

“Let them,” I shot back. “I’m not the one who screwed up and kidnapped the wrong twin.”

His glare could have set the grass on fire.

*****

Alpha Gregor’s POV

What. The. Actual. Fuck.

The King was going to kill me. Not metaphorically—like literally skin-me-alive-and-hang-my-hide-over-the-castle-gates kind of kill me. If I was lucky, he’d just banish me, strip my Alpha title, and throw me into rogue territory where I’d last, what… two days?

This mission was supposed to be simple: grab Margaux, deliver her pretty little royal-blooded self to the palace, and bask in the King’s praise for not screwing it up like Beta Clyde did last year with the Duchess of Silverfang. But now? I’d apparently kidnapped the wrong twin, and the one I was supposed to bring was dead. And if that was true… oh, moon goddess help me.

If I went to the King with this, he’d kill me. If I didn’t tell the King and he found out later, he’d kill me worse. There’s no winning here. Just… levels of how fast my funeral would be.

I took a deep breath, mentally adding “dig my own grave” to my to-do list, and pulled out my phone. There was only one thing to do—call the pack’s resident IT nerd. The guy who could hack a satellite while eating cold pizza and watching anime.

The line clicked. “What’s up, Alpha Boss? You sound like you just stepped in werebear crap again.”

“Shut up and listen, Zach,” I growled. “Hack the Whiteland Villa’s security system. I want every single CCTV feed from the last seventy-two hours.”

There was a pause. “...Uh, that’s another pack’s property. You do know hacking that’s basically treason, right?”

“Zach, if you don’t do it, I will be committing treason—by accident—when the King orders my execution. So get moving.”

“Yikes. Okay, you’re scaring me now. What am I looking for?”

I rubbed the back of my neck, trying not to look at Marigold, who was still perched on my bike like she was deciding if she should kick me in the teeth or not. “Margaux. Or… not-Margaux. Whatever the hell she is. The woman the palace wanted, the one I was supposed to pick up, is dead. And the girl in front of me is her twin, Marigold. Who, apparently, dyed her hair blonde, has a Dark Warrior Wolf, and—oh, here’s the cherry on top—absolutely refuses to marry Prince Leon because ‘he changes women like he changes shirts.’”

I heard Zach choke on something. “...You what?!”

“Just. Get. Me. The footage. I need to know exactly what happened at that villa, who killed Margaux, and why the hell Marigold here was running for her life. Because if the King hears this from anyone other than me, I’m wolf-meat stew.”

Marigold leaned forward, folding her arms, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Aw, is the big bad Alpha scared of Daddy King?”

I shot her a look. “Scared? No. I’m strategically aware that my head looks better attached to my body.”

Ten minutes later, my phone buzzed.

“Alpha… you’re not going to believe this,” Zach’s voice came through, jittery but also way too smug for my liking. “I pulled the Whiteland Villa CCTV and the ceremony footage. Marigold’s telling the truth.”

I froze. “Go on.”

“She wasn’t just running away for fun. Someone—more than one someone—was after the twins. And get this: during the Awakening ceremony, Marigold shifted into… something.”

My gut clenched. “What kind of something?”

There was a pause, then Zach said, almost reverently, “A Dark Warrior Wolf. Not just a dark wolf.”

For a second, I thought I misheard. 

So Wolfgang Alpha lied?

“That’s not possible. I’m the last one. The only one.”

“Yeah, well… not anymore.”

I shut my eyes and cursed. A female Dark Wolf? That hasn’t happened in centuries. Hell, not even in the oldest pack records. If this got out… the politics, the bloodshed, the power grabs—it would be war before the week was over.

The king… oh, the council wouldn’t just want her. They’d own her. Breed her. Turn her into a crown jewel for the royal bloodline. Which meant every ambitious alpha in the continent would want a piece too.

I paced, trying to stitch together a plan before my brain exploded. Maybe—just maybe—I could spin this to my advantage. If I told the King the truth, that a new Dark Wolf had been seen, maybe I’d keep my head. Hell, maybe I’d finally get out from under his thumb.

But then I looked at her.

Marigold. Sitting there like she was bored out of her mind, inspecting her nails as if the fate of kingdoms wasn’t hanging over her head. She caught me staring, tilted her head, and smirked.

“What?” she said, dripping sass like venom. “You look like you just found out you’re pregnant. Bad news? Or is this your normal ugly thinking face?”

I grit my teeth. “You have no idea what you are, do you?”

“Oh, I know exactly what I am,” she shot back. “I’m a woman who’s not about to be kidnapped, gift-wrapped, and handed over to some crown-wearing fuckboy just because the universe decided to spice up my wolf genes.”

Before I could snap at her, Zach’s voice came back on the line—lower, urgent.

“Alpha… there’s something else.”

“What now?”

“I… I rewound the footage a little before the ceremony. There’s a man—masked—slipping something into the ceremonial incense. The same man shows up after the chaos, following Margaux’s trail. I cross-referenced facial recognition with our rogue database.”

My stomach dropped. “And?”

Zach hesitated. “Alpha… it’s one of the King’s personal shadows. The Black Fang division.”

I went cold.

If the Black Fang were already in play, then this wasn’t just about the royals looking for a mate for their prince. This was a hunt. Which meant both me and Marigold were already on the King’s kill list if we weren’t careful.

But Black Fang was not just the king’s shadow but all royal. So who ordered Margaux to follow? The prince? The Queen? The council?

Damn it!

I turned to her, my jaw tight. “Let's run for our lives!”

She blinked. “Oh, so we’re running? Cute. Where to?”

“Anywhere but here,” I growled. “Because congratulations, princess—you’re officially the most wanted wolf in the kingdom. And I just became your least trustworthy babysitter.”