C3

"Zafira, whose ceremonial pelt are you tracking into this council hall?"

Vaelira’s eyes flashed with a calculated, lethal gleam. Unlike her weak pack-sister, she was no stranger to the inner workings of the Blackwynd Moon Dominion; she had spent moons trading pack secrets with Thorne. One look at the dominant Alpha shroud covering my frame, combined with the bared fangs of the fortress guards, told her everything she needed to exploit.

I paused on the stone steps, sensing the immediate drop in the room’s temperature as the pack-bonds strained around us.

In my previous life, Vickon had given me complete dominance over his territory, granting me access to the deepest chambers of Moonhollow Ridge without a single challenge. His personal den had never been forbidden territory to me. When the senior matron guided me to the upper levels, my inner wolf hadn't thought twice about crossing the threshold.

But this wasn't the past timeline. I was a stranger to this fierce pack, a newly arrived female who hadn't even accepted his mating bite yet.

Vickon guarded his sanctuary with an unyielding territorial instinct, and only Elira was permitted to cleanse his chambers. The realization made my pulse race under my skin, but I forced my posture to remain steady, walking right down to the hearth until I stood directly in front of his massive frame.

"My Alpha, the water in the lower den was completely frozen, so I shifted into your sanctuary to wash. I borrowed your scent-shroud to keep warm. Do you reject my choice?"

Zyric Fenwolf’s jaw went completely slack, his hand freezing on the hilt of his blade.

Did a low-ranking omega just address the True Alpha with such casual, possessive disrespect? Was his dominant aura not crushing her spine?

The heavy silence in the hall became absolute, suffocating the breath of every guard present.

My voice, low and laced with a subtle wolfish purr, brushed against Vickon’s sharp senses like a challenge. His claws, which had been tapping a lethal rhythm against the stone armrest of his command chair, stopped instantly.

His golden eyes turned into bottomless pools of obsidian as he tracked the scent of his own fur on my skin, maintaining a suffocating silence.

Vaelira let out a silent scoff within her mind.

What a delusional bitch! As if the sovereign of the North hadn't executed dozens of females for lesser slights. There was no way his primal wolf would tolerate an unbonded omega—

"No. The shroud belongs to you now."

Vickon's deep, gravelly growl vibrated through the stone floor, sending a shockwave through the room.

Every guard and elder snapped their heads toward him, their scents spiking with absolute disbelief.

A wave of relief flooded my veins, my inner wolf lifting its head as my lips curved into a soft smile. "Thank you, my Alpha."

Yet, the sudden rush of gratitude was instantly choked by a bitter pang of guilt.

This was my first hour inside his borders, and already his protective instincts were shielding me from the pack's judgment. Did he truly hold a lingering thread of affection for my bloodline even now?

In the old timeline, he had offered me nothing but the protection of his entire dominion, yet I had let Vaelira's venomous whispers convince me he was a monster and in the end, my rejection had left him bleeding out in the snow.

Suddenly, a burning wave of malice pierced through my thoughts; Vaelira was staring at me with pure, unadulterated envy.

My expression turned to ice as I shifted my weight toward her. "Vaelira, why are you lurking inside the Blackwynd borders?"

Vaelira instantly masked her snarl, forcing her posture into a submissive curve. "I was frantic with worry for our bloodline... I traveled through the wastes to ensure you hadn't been slaughtered."

"Really?" I tilted my head, my eyes narrowing. "That is strange, considering I just heard your voice offering your own neck to take my place in the Alpha's bed."

Vaelira’s scent turned sour with panic. She shot a terrified look at the towering Alpha in the command chair before seizing my arm with her claws, dragging me into the shadow of a stone pillar while lowering her voice to an urgent hiss.

"Zafira, what has possessed your inner wolf? Did I not arrange everything for your escape? Why did you return to the slaughterhouse?"

"Thorne Blackwynd is still waiting with his rogue pack at the border crossing. Are you truly going to reject a beta-blood prince? Listen to me, we will demand that Alpha Vickon release your blood-bond. I am willing to endure his mating bite to save our father's den. We share the same lineage—how could I let you walk into a lethal trap?"

Listening to her frantic lies, a cold, mocking laugh nearly escaped my throat.

In my first life, I had been completely blind, moving like a puppet to her commands because I believed her empty promises of freedom.

The tragic reality was that during my previous escape, I barely survived a night in the wastes before the rogue pack tracked me down, dragging me back like a prisoner to be thrown at Vickon's feet. And Vaelira? She had run straight to the elders, presenting herself as a loyal replacement, earning the favor of the pack matrons and securing ancestral relics as her reward.

"Zafira, why is your wolf silent? Speak to me!"

Vaelira’s patience was snapping against my cold, unyielding silence.

Hiding my hatred behind a sharp smile, I shrugged her hand off my arm. "There is no need for your sacrifice, sister. Pack your furs and leave the territory."

"What?" Vaelira’s voice cracked, rising into a panicked yip. "Are you truly going to submit to a dying Alpha? You!"

"How am I submitting to a stranger?" I cut her off, my voice echoing off the stone walls. "Thorne and I are nothing. Furthermore, Alpha Vickon and I have been bound by an ancestral lunar compact since our first winters. Is it not the law of the wild for me to claim my place as his lunar mate?"

Looking back, my stepmother had kept my wolf suppressed and foolish, ensuring I remained ignorant of pack politics. Thorne had approached me with nothing but a desire to siphon my lineage, and I had been too blind to smell the deception. He had never once marked me or claimed me as his mate, yet I actually believed the bastard had some tragic, noble reason for keeping his distance.

When Vaelira heard my response, her jaw tightened in absolute shock.

This is impossible wasn't Zafira completely infatuated with Thorne’s rogue pack? What redefined her instincts?

She opened her mouth to push further, but I slammed my gaze into hers, my eyes flashing with a dangerous blue light. "Vaelira, did you not just declare that my survival was all that mattered to our den? Right now, my wolf demands the Blackwynd Moon Dominion. Why are you attempting to drive the Alpha’s mate into the hands of a rogue?"

Vaelira stammered, her scent turning entirely defensive. "I only assumed your instincts belonged to Thorne..."

"Who told you my wolf would choose a lesser male? What does a beta-blood possess that my Alpha does not?" I sneered, letting my dominance flare to suppress her. "He is the one who has been tracking my scent across the borders I simply lacked the interest to rip his throat out until now."

Vaelira stared at me, her chest heaving. "So you are claiming Thorne Blackwynd is beneath your lineage?"

I let out a sharp, mocking bark of laughter.

The name Blackwynd sounded powerful when Thorne used it to intimidate the smaller dens, and the weak rogues claimed he was a blood-relative of Vickon everyone wanted to curry favor with his faction. But the brutal truth was that Thorne’s father was nothing more than an outcast, an illegitimate stray born outside the pack-bonds, whom the true lineage refused to acknowledge.

With such tainted blood, he was only considered an Alpha candidate in a remote outpost like Moonhollow Ridge, far from the royal courts of Darkmere Crossing.

"Beneath me?" I spat back, stepping closer until our muzzles nearly touched. "Even if the Nightvale den has lost its warriors since my mother returned to the earth, I am hardly desperate enough to knot myself to the pup of an outcast stray who was rejected by his own ancestral bloodline."

Vaelira went entirely silent, her inner wolf completely cowed by my aggression.

As she fled past the heavy iron gates of the fortress, her mind was spinning with terror; when had the broken, submissive omega turned into a predator she couldn't handle?

With Vaelira driven from the territory, I knew I still had to secure my position with Vickon. I worried his primal wolf might believe her lies and brand me a traitor to the pack.

I turned back to the hearth to explain my actions, but Elira’s sharp, authoritative voice sliced through the hall. "Lady Zafira, did you cross the boundaries into the Alpha's sacred den without permission?"

I went rigid.

Vickon had let the matter of the ceremonial robe pass, but invading an Alpha’s private sanctuary without a formal bond was a capital offense against the laws of the Dominion.

I blinked, softening my scent to project complete innocence. "I only entered the northern doors to cleanse the filth from my skin..."

"And there were no other washrooms within the entire fortress? Why did your paws lead you directly to the Alpha’s sanctuary?" Elira’s tone was clipped, her gray fur bristling with ancient pack authority.

I matched her stare evenly. "My assigned quarters lacked hot water. The pipes were completely blocked by ice."

"Elira?" Vickon’s voice dropped into a dangerous rumble that froze the room. He lifted his golden gaze, demanding an immediate answer as to why the den arranged by the head matron was unfit for his chosen female.

Elira’s posture stiffened. Other omegas sent by the council had endured far worse hazing to test their endurance, but Vickon had never cared enough to lift a claw in their defense. She had not expected the True Alpha to project his dominant protection over this specific Nightvale female.

"I will have the omegas clear the ice immediately. It was an oversight of the guard shift," Elira responded quickly, though her eyes remained fixed on me like a hawk. "But even if the water was frozen in that wing, there are a dozen other guest dens available. Why did you choose the Alpha's private quarters?"

"A servant guided my steps," I stated clearly, my eyes locking onto one of the young omegas trembling near the pillars.

I had only just returned to this body and hadn't fully mapped out the fortress hierarchy, but Sorelle who had served the Blackwynd line for winters knew every boundary law of the pack. She had guided me there knowing it was a forbidden zone, and then ensured no clothes were delivered, forcing me to handle Vickon's sacred furs. The entire sequence was a trap designed to get my throat torn out.

Sorelle’s face turned ashen; she dropped to her knees on the stone floor, her scent reeking of raw terror. "Alpha Vickon, I swear on my blood I did not! I pointed her toward the adjacent guest wing I do not know how her wolf breached your private doors!"

Elira stepped forward, spreading her scent to shield the young omega. "Alpha, Sorelle is a loyal daughter of the pack. Her instincts would never allow her to lie to her sovereign."

Hearing the head matron defend the traitor, I realized I wouldn't be able to enforce pack justice on the girl not while Elira’s authority shielded her. The matron's word held too much weight with the council.

So I let the trap slide for now, turning back to the devastatingly handsome predator sitting before me, letting my tone drop into a soft, melodic whine that appealed directly to his inner wolf. "I am your bound mate now is my wolf truly forbidden from entering your den?"