The night pressed heavy against the packhouse, the silence broken only by the faint rustle of leaves brushing the windows. Serena sat on the edge of her bed, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, her mind refusing to settle. Sleep had abandoned her hours ago, chased away by the memory of the shadow that moved in the trees.
Every time she closed her eyes she saw it again — tall, indistinct, watching. Not a trick of the forest. Not her imagination. Something had been there, and it was no ordinary wolf.She pushed herself up and paced the room. The floor creaked under her steps, and she froze, her heart leaping as if expecting the shadow itself to slip in behind her. Nothing moved. She was alone.Alone, yet not free from the feeling of being watched.The bond stirred inside her chest, restless, pulling her toward the opposite wing of the packhouse. Lucian.She hesitated, then slipped out of her room, her bare feet soft against the wooden floThe night was black and airless. No wind stirred the pines beyond the fortress walls, no animal called from the hills. Even the moon seemed swallowed, its pale face hidden behind a smear of cloud.I had grown used to silence in these lands. But this this was not silence.This was absence.Something was missing, tugged from me like a thread I didn’t realize I had been holding until it loosened.I reached for it instinctively, like I always did when sleep grew restless or fear gripped me too tightly: the bond. That quiet hum in my chest, warm as a heartbeat not my own. Lucian’s presence. The tether that had never failed me.Only this time, when I reachedNothing.I sat bolt upright in bed, breath shattering in my chest. My hand flew to the mark etched over my arm. The black veins glimmered faintly in the dark, but the pulse that usually steadied against them was gone.Not quiet. Not muffled. Gone.“No,” I whispered. My throat felt raw. “No, no, noI threw the blankets off and stumbled t
The fortress had not been the same since that night.Word spread faster than flame: the Shadow Alpha had spoken Serena’s name aloud, claiming her as his bride. No matter how many times Lucian roared it down, no matter how fiercely I swore my loyalty, the whispers grew like weeds. Some wolves wouldn’t meet my eyes. Others watched me like I was a knife pressed against their throats.And Mirek… Mirek watched me like a wolf waiting for the blade to fall.He didn’t accuse me openly. He didn’t need to. His silence spoke louder than any word.So when Lucian sent him leading a patrol south of the ridge, part of me knew it wasn’t just strategy—it was distance. He couldn’t have Mirek inside the walls right now, not with tension fraying so dangerously.The patrol was supposed to return by dawn.By midday, only one wolf stumbled back. His fur was streaked with blood, his arm torn, his eyes wild. He collapsed at the gates before anyone could speak.I was there when they dragged him inside. His bre
The fortress did not rest that night.Even after the battlefield was cleared and the dead were counted, the halls hummed with unease. Wolves whispered in corners, their eyes flicking toward me like I was a torch about to ignite. The scent of smoke lingered in the stones, seared into memory.I stayed at Lucian’s side, refusing to let him out of my sight. His wound was sealed, but the fire had left its mark beneath his skin thin veins of gold, pulsing faintly like embers. When he moved, the light stirred, as though alive.I had done that.Every time I looked at it, guilt gnawed through me.Lucian caught me staring as he sat on the edge of our chamber bed, unwrapping the blood-soaked bandages. His chest was bare, muscles taut, the scar angry and new. The golden threads flickered faintly in the wound’s shape, refusing to fade.“You saved me,” he said, voice low.I shook my head. “I cursed you.”“You think I care?” His gaze burned. “Serena, if you hadn’t” He broke off, jaw tightening. His
The fortress reeked of ash and burned stone.Dawn broke gray, dragging smoke into the light. Wolves limped through the wreckage, shoulders hunched, eyes hollow. Some hauled buckets to douse what embers remained, others dragged bodies charred, broken, still. The east wing was gone, reduced to a blackened husk.And at the center of it all, Lucian stood like a pillar of iron, giving orders with a voice that cut through despair.“Clear the rubble. Account for every wolf. Nobody is left behind.”He moved with his usual precision, but I felt the strain under his skin. Our bond was thin, fragile, still trembling from last night’s crack. I clung to it anyway, like clutching a fraying rope over an abyss.Whispers stalked me through the ruins.“She called the flames.”“She made them burn gold.”“She saved us.”“Or cursed us further.”The voices blurred until I couldn’t tell praise from accusation. I wanted to scream at them that I had chosen again and again to fight for them. But their eyes had
The seer’s voice still rang in my skull when the first scream split the night.At first, I thought it was part of the dream the endless whisper of choice, the warning that had stalked me since the mark first seared my skin. But then came the second scream, sharper, real, followed by the clang of steel and the thunder of boots racing through the halls.I bolted upright.Lucian was already awake, golden eyes flaring in the half-dark, his blade snatched from its stand. His voice cut the air like iron.“Stay behind me.”The door shook with pounding fists before it burst open, smoke spilling inside. A soldier stumbled in, face streaked with soot, coughing.“Alpha! Fire in the east wing storage halls are burning!”Lucian’s jaw tightened. “How?”The soldier shook his head, trembling. “No lanterns, no torches the flames just—just appeared. Black, then red. They’re spreading too fastI was already moving, throwing on my cloak, ignoring the soldier’s alarmed glance at me. “We have to help them.
The storm ended as suddenly as it began.One moment the battlefield roared with shadows, wolves locked in death’s embrace, snow blackened with fire and smoke. The next, the darkness folded in on itself like a curtain drawing back. The Shadow Alpha’s host retreated not defeated, never that but vanished, leaving only silence and the stink of ash behind.The ground was a graveyard. Mirek’s wolves lay broken beside ours, their blood steaming in the cold night. Some still writhed, crying for healers. Others would never rise again.I stood at the center, chest heaving, Lucian’s hand locked around mine as though by strength alone he could keep me tethered. My flames had guttered out, leaving my body weak, my mark burning faintly like embers under skin.But the silence was worse than the screams.It was the sound of doubt.Of fear.Of wolves realizing the Alpha they followed now fought a war against something not of flesh and blood and that his mate was the bridge between worlds.Mirek strode