Chapter 12 – The First Crack of Thunder

The next morning started normal enough. Too normal, maybe. That’s how bad things always sneak up—when everything feels almost okay for once.

I woke up tangled in Damon’s sheets again. His side of the bed was empty but still warm. I could hear him in the room talking in a low voice to someone—probably Lukas, his second. Pack business. Always pack business.

I lay there for a minute staring at the ceiling beams listening to the words I couldn’t quite make out. My palms didn’t hurt much today. The bandages were stained a pink but dry. Healing fast. Too fast. My wolf felt… restless. Not scared. Just alert. Like she smelled rain coming.

I dragged myself out of bed. Pulled on yesterday’s clothes—still smelled like sweat and dirt and him. Didn’t bother fixing my hair. What was the point?

When I stepped into the room Damon was alone leaning against the table with his arms crossed. He looked up the second I appeared. His eyes scanned me head to toe like he’s checking for wounds I hadn’t told him about.

“Morning " he said.

“Morning." I rubbed my face. "Who was that?”

“Lukas. Border patrol spotted tracks night. Not ours.”

My stomach dropped. "Enemy?”

“ scouts. Maybe just rogues passing through." He pushed off the table. "We’re checking it out. You’re coming.”

I blinked. "Me?”

“You." He grabbed a cloak from the hook by the door. Tossed it at me. "You need to learn how to track. How to feel them before they feel you.”

I caught the cloak. It smelled like him. Course it did.

* We didn’t talk much on the way. Just moved fast through the corridors out a side gate into the woods beyond the pack house. The air was crisp. Early fall bite already in it. Leaves crunching under our boots.

Damon led. I followed. His stride was long. He slowed when I lagged. Didn’t comment. Didn’t need to.

* A mile in he stopped. Dropped to a crouch. Touched the ground.

“Tracks " he said quietly. "Two sets. Light. Careful. They didn’t want to be seen.”

I crouched beside him. Looked where he was looking. Barely saw anything— some bent grass, a scuff in the dirt.. My wolf perked up. Nose twitching inside me. Scent hit a later—foreign. Sharp. Wrong.

“They’re circling " I whispered. "Not straight through. They’re… testing.”

Damon’s head snapped toward me. "You can smell that?”

I nodded. "It’s… stronger today. Clearer.”

He stared at me for a second. Something like pride flickered in his eyes. Gone fast.

“Good " he said. "Use it.”

* We followed the tracks deeper. Quiet. Careful. My heart was. My steps stayed steady. The wolf was helping—guiding my feet sharpening my hearing. Every snapped twig sounded like a gunshot.

Then we found them.

Not the scouts.

The scouts were dead.

Two bodies sprawled in a clearing. Throats ripped out. Blood still wet. Fresh.

Damon cursed low. Dropped beside the one. Checked for signs of life. Nothing.

“Rogues?" I asked.

“No." He rolled the body over. There was a mark burned into the chest—three lines like claw marks, but too perfect. Too deliberate.

My stomach lurched.

“That’s their mark " I said. Voice shaking a little. "The ones who killed my parents. The same ones.”

Damon looked up at me. Face hard. "They’re not scouting anymore. They’re sending a message.”

I stared at the bodies. Felt cold over. "The message is ‘we’re here.’”

“Yeah." He stood. ". They know where we sleep.”

* We burned the bodies quick. No time for ceremony. Just. Silence. The smoke smelled wrong— sweet like rot mixed with something metallic.

On the way Damon didn’t say much. Just kept glancing at me. Like he was waiting for me to break.

I didn’t break.

I felt it coming.

* Back at the pack house he pulled me into the yard again. Barred the gate.

“We train " he said. "Now.”

“Damon—”

“Now." His voice cracked on the word. "You need to be ready. I need you ready.”

I looked at him. Really looked. Saw the fear under the anger. Saw the thing I felt every time I thought about those bodies.

I nodded.

We started. No warm-up. No talking. Just push. Harder than ever.

The light came fast this time. Too fast. I didn’t hold back. Didn’t let the pain stop me. Pushed past it. Past the binding. Past everything.

White light exploded out of me—bright, blinding angry. It didn’t flicker. Didn’t fade. It held. Steady. Strong.

I felt her. Fully. My wolf. Not breaking through. Breaking free.

Bones shifted. Pain ripped through me like lightning.. I didn’t drop. Didn’t scream.

I stood there glowing like moonlight made solid. Eyes gold. Claws out. Teeth sharp. Whole.

Damon stared. Breath caught.

“Isla…”

I took a step, toward him. The light didn’t fade.

“I’m here " I said. Voice low. Different. Deeper.

He reached out. Slow. Hand shaking a little.

His fingers brushed the light on my arm.

It flared brighter where he touched. Warm. Not burning.

The bond roared between us—loud, bright alive.

For the time I didn’t feel like prey.

I felt like something that could hunt back.

The enemies waiting in the shadows?

They were about to learn what happens when the wolfless omega stops being wolfless.