เข้าสู่ระบบAlvaro’s POV.The SUV rode over the dirt track, its headlights cutting through the fog a little. Every bump made the chassis groan. Every jolt sent a fresh wave of fear through me. A fear of losing Amaya and our kids."Almost there," Javier muttered from the driver’s seat. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel. "Just another mile. If the Dean hasn't sold this location too, we might actually make it."In the back seat, Luciano held Amaya against his chest. He was wrapped around her like a living shield. Amaya was shivering, and her skin was hot—too hot."Alvaro," Luciano whispered, his voice cracking. "She’s starting to glow again."I turned from the front passenger seat and heart sank at the sight of her.A faint, sickly l light was pulsing under Amaya’s skin. It was a flickering light, like a wire about to snap. It ran through the veins in her neck and pooled around her closed eyes. The air in the car began to hum—a low, electric vibration that made my teeth ache.The
JAVIERThe hum of my laptop was the only thing keeping me sane.In this quiet clinic room, the air felt like it was made of glass—one loud noise, one wrong move, and everything would shatter. Amaya was asleep, her face finally looking less like a ghost's and more like the girl who used to beat me at air hockey. The heart monitor was a steady beep-beep-beep. It was the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard because it meant the spark inside her hadn't gone out.Alvaro was gone, playing a dangerous game of "Hide the Traitor" with the Pack Council. Luciano was in the corner, slumped over in a chair, finally asleep after forty-eight hours of hovering.Me? I leaned back, my eyes stinging from the blue light of the screen. My fingers felt like they were no longer functioning but I couldn't stop. The data we had pulled from the rink was a mess. It was encrypted with a shifting code—a "living" lock that changed every few seconds. Most hackers would have given up.But most hackers aren't m
ALVARO.The scent of antiseptic and old paper always made my skin itch. It was the smell of weakness, of places where wolves went to break. But as I stood by the window of the clinic, watching the moon rise over the Silvercrest trees, I realized that the real breaking was happening inside my own mind.I turned to look at the bed. Amaya was asleep, her breathing shallow but steady. My hands were still stained. I’d washed them three times, but I could still feel the heat of her blood on my palms. It was a brand.A reminder that the next Alpha, I had failed. I was supposed to be the shield. I was supposed to be the one who took the hits so she didn't have to.Instead, she had used her own body as a means to save us.A soft knock at the door made my claws prickle. I didn't have to turn around to know who it was. The scent was unmistakable."The Council is waiting, Alvaro," Javier said. His voice was stripped of its usual mockery. He sounded old and tired."Let them wait," I growl
AMAYA.Being stuck in a bed is its own kind of prison.For someone who is romantically involved with a hockey player, movement is life. I was used to the sting of cold air on my face, the ache in my legs after a long practice of waiting for them. Now, the only thing I had to look at was the beige paint on the clinic walls and the steady drip of the IV bag next to me.But I wasn't alone.Luciano was sitting in a chair by the window, his head buried in a thick book about ancient pack laws. He hadn't left my side for more than ten minutes since we got back from the rink. Every time I shifted the blankets or let out a sigh, he was up, checking my pillows or offering me water."Luc, I’m okay," I said, my voice finally losing its raspy edge. "I’m not going to break if I reach for my own glass of water."Luciano looked up, his silver-grey eyes soft but stubborn. "Aris said bed rest, Amaya. That means you do nothing. I am your hands and feet until the bleeding is a distant memory."I rolled
AMAYA.The air inside the abandoned hockey rink didn’t just feel cold; it smelt… stale. The ice was long gone, replaced by a slab of grey concrete that was cracked like an old mirror. Dust motes danced in the dim light coming from the high, broken windows.I stood at the edge of the rink, my boots crunching on bits of gravel. Behind me, I could hear Javier’s heavy breathing. He was already working, his laptop balanced on a rusted trash can. Alvaro stood near the main entrance, his hand resting on the hilt of his blade while Luciano was the closest to me. I could feel his gaze on the back of my neck, soft and worried."Amaya, please," Luciano whispered. "You look so pale. Just let Javier do the hacking.""He can’t," I said. My voice sounded hollow in the big space. "The facility didn’t just lock these files. They buried them in the architecture. Javier can get the lock open, but I have to be the key."I felt a sharp, sudden twinge in my lower belly. It wasn't the "growing pains"
Amaya.Javier’s laptop sat on the wooden desk, its screen glowing a soft, pale blue. It was the only light in the room now that the sun had fully dipped below the horizon.Alvaro stood by the door, arms crossed. Luciano was right next to me, his shoulder brushing mine. I could feel the warmth of him, a heat that kept my hands from shaking too hard. Javier leaned against the desk, his eyes fixed on the USB drive in my hand."Are you ready?" Alvaro asked. His voice was deep, filling the small space."I have to be," I said.I sat down and plugged the drive in. The computer made a small chirp sound then a box popped up on the screen, asking for a password. The cursor blinked, waiting for me to say something to the machine that had held my secrets for so long.I typed it in. A-M-A-Y-A.The screen didn't flash or explode like I expected it to. It just opened. A single folder appeared, titled ORIGIN_DATA. Inside, there were hundreds of documents—numbers, charts, and chemical formulas
Javier's POV She shows up at 6:03 PM.I know because I've been watching the clock since 5:45, trying not to be obvious about it. Trying to pretend I'm not waiting for her like some lovesick puppy. But the bond hums under my skin, alerting me the second her car pulls into the parking lot of our apa
# Game DayI've never been to a hockey game before.That's the thought running through my head as I climb the bleachers at the campus rink, clutching a hot chocolate I don't really want but bought because I needed something to do with my hands. The arena is packed—apparently our team is good this y
Amaya's povI wake up to seventeen text messages.Most of them are from Alvaro—random thoughts, a photo of his breakfast, a meme about hockey, another photo of what looks like his ceiling with the caption "can't sleep thinking about you." Javier sent three, all practical reminders about an assignme
Amaya's pov The diner they take me to is packed with hockey players and their friends, all riding the high of the win. We squeeze into a large corner booth—Alvaro immediately claiming the spot next to me, Luciano on my other side, and Javier across from us. I'm wedged between two walls of muscle,







