Chapter 2

"I would have been vulnerable," I finished, feeling sick. "An orphaned she-wolf with a claim to Alpha bloodlines."

"A prize," Maison said, his voice hardening. "And a way to legitimise his power grab."

I stood up suddenly, anger replacing shock. "I'm not a prize. I'm not a pawn. And I'm done hiding."

Uncle Mateo moved to block my path to the stairs. "Daisy—Marabelle—please. We need to be strategic about this."

"Strategic?" I laughed bitterly. "I've spent ten years living a lie, jumping at shadows, all because some psychopath thinks he has a claim on me? While someone else died wearing my face?"

"Your parents gave their lives to keep you safe," Maison said quietly. "Don't dishonour that sacrifice with recklessness."

Something in his tone made me pause. "Why do you suddenly care? You've clarified what you think of me since day one."

A muscle twitched in his jaw. "My feelings about you are... complicated."

"Complicated," I repeated flatly.

"We don't have time for this," Uncle Mateo interrupted, checking his phone. "I have signal now. I need to call your father," he said to Maison.

As Uncle Mateo stepped away to make the call, Maison and I were left in uncomfortable silence. The basement was small, forcing us to stand closer than we would prefer.

"Why did you always watch me?" I finally asked. "At the restaurant. Your pack members noticed."

Maison's eyes met mine, their usual coldness replaced by something I couldn't read. "At first, it was duty. My father ordered me to keep an eye on you."

"And later?"

He looked away. "Like I said. Complicated."

"Try me."

Maison ran a hand through his hair, a surprisingly human gesture for someone who always seemed so controlled. "When a wolf finds their—" He stopped abruptly as Uncle Mateo returned, his face grim.

"Your father's sending reinforcements," he told Maison. "But there's a problem. Viktor's rogues have been spotted at three locations surrounding the territory."

"He's trying to cut off escape routes," Maison growled, instantly shifting back to tactical mode. "How many?"

"At least two dozen confirmed. Possibly more in hiding."

I felt the weight of the pendant against my skin, suddenly heavier than before. "They knew exactly when to make their move. The timing is too perfect."

Maison's eyes narrowed. "What are you suggesting?"

"Someone tipped them off." I met his gaze steadily. "Someone who knew I'd be working the drive-through today."

"That's a short list," Uncle Mateo said, his voice tight with concern. "Only pack members knew your schedule."

Maison's phone buzzed with an incoming text. He checked it, his expression darkening. "Jackson says they found Millie unconscious in the safe room at Sneakz. Beta Dean and the others are missing."

My blood ran cold. "Are you saying—"

"I don't know what I'm saying yet," Maison cut me off without his usual sharpness. "Let's not jump to conclusions."

I laughed humourlessly. "Now you're the one being careful with my feelings?"

Uncle Mateo moved toward the stairs. "I need to check the perimeter. You two stay here and try not to kill each other."

As his footsteps faded above us, the basement felt suddenly smaller, the air between Maison and me charged with unspoken tension.

"You were saying something," I prompted, needing to fill the silence. "About wolves finding their... what?"

Maison's jaw tightened. "It doesn't matter right now."

"It might be our last chance to have this conversation," I pointed out. "If Viktor's rogues find us—"

"They won't," he snapped, then visibly reined himself in. "I won't let that happen."

I stepped closer, irritated by his evasiveness. "Why? Because it's your duty? Because my father asked yours for protection? Or is there another reason you've been watching me all this time?"

His eyes flashed gold momentarily, his wolf rising close to the surface. "You want to know? Fine. From the moment I first caught your scent, my wolf recognised you. Not as Daisy Thompson, the human waitress, but as who you are."

My heart stuttered. "What do you mean, recognised?"

"The first time I came to Sneakz after you started working there, I nearly shifted in the middle of the restaurant," he admitted, looking almost angry at the confession. "My wolf went crazy, trying to get to you."

"That doesn't make any sense. You've been cold to me from day one."

"Because I was fighting it!" His voice dropped to a growl. "Because I was fighting it every second. Do you have any idea what it's like to have your wolf recognise someone as its mate when your human side knows they're forbidden?"

The word hung between us like an electric charge. Mate. The sacred bond that transcended pack politics and bloodlines. The one thing even Alphas couldn't command or control.

"That's impossible," I whispered, but even as I said it, something deep inside me resonated with the truth of his words. The inexplicable awareness I'd always had of his presence, the way my skin tingled whenever he was near, even when I couldn't see him.

"Tell that to my wolf," Maison said bitterly. "For years, I've been at war with myself. Duty to my pack versus the primal instinct that refuses to be silenced."

I backed away until I hit the wall, needing the distance. "If what you're saying is true, why push me away? Why treat me like I was nothing?"

"Because you were supposed to be dead!" His control slipped, revealing raw emotion beneath. "The daughter of Matthew Graystone was murdered with her family. That's what the entire supernatural world believes. If I acknowledged what my wolf knew, I'd put a target on your back."

"I already have a target on my back," I reminded him. "Viktor found me anyway."

Maison moved closer, his eyes searching mine. "And now he'll stop at nothing to claim what he believes is his."

"I'm not his," I said fiercely. "I'm not anyone's."

Something like pain flickered across Maison's face. "I know that. Unlike Viktor, I understand that mates choose each other. The recognition is... a possibility. Not a right."

The pendant warmed against my skin, almost pulsing in time with my heartbeat. I touched it unconsciously, and Maison's gaze followed the movement.

"So I guess that makes me Jackson's mate, too, since identical twins usually share one, being clones and all," I stated rather than asked.

Maison's expression darkened instantly, and a low growl rumbled from his chest. "That's not how it works with identical twins. Our wolves may share DNA but are distinct beings with different instincts."

"How convenient," I muttered, "Or at least that's what he told you, because you have competed for everything in your life. Why would I be any different? Not that it matters I have a sicko after me who use to be my brother's friend and my true mate doesn't even want me why are you even here beyond duty?"

The moment the words left my mouth, I regretted them. Maison's expression shifted from anger to something that looked almost like hurt before his mask of indifference slammed back into place.

"You think this is about competition?" His voice was dangerously quiet. "That I've been fighting this connection because of some rivalry with my brother?"

I crossed my arms defensively. "What else am I supposed to think? You've done nothing but glare at me from across the restaurant for months. If I'm supposedly your mate, you've had a funny way of showing it."

"I was protecting you!" He took a step closer, his presence overwhelming in the small space. "Every moment I spent near you increased the risk of someone noticing. Do you think I enjoyed staying away? It was easy watching you from a distance, catching your scent but unable to—" He cut himself off, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

"Not being able to what?" I challenged.

His eyes locked with mine, golden flecks appearing in their depths. "Claim you."

The word sent an involuntary shiver down my spine. "Yeah sure, and maybe your brother only told you I wasn't his, too, to ensure you both wouldn't fight over me. After all, he has also been a jerk to me for years, just as you have. However, he acts politely around me when he even knows people are around, like Uncle Mateo. Honestly, what am I supposed to think, Maison?"

Before Maison could answer, his eyes fuming at my words, he looked away.

"You know what? Forget it. Once this is all over, you can go back to hating and glaring at me from a distance. Because nothing is going to happen between us, any chance of that is now gone." I finished and walked into the further part of the saferoom as far away from Maison as I could. I put my headphones into my ears and began to listen to my music.

My music blasted in my ears, drowning out everything else. I didn't know what song was playing—just that it was loud enough to block Maison's presence. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the cold wall, trying to process everything that had happened in the past few hours.

My real identity has been exposed. A rogue Alpha is hunting me. Someone who died in my place. And now this—the revelation that Maison, who had treated me with nothing but cold indifference for years, claimed his wolf recognised me as his mate.

It was too much.

I felt rather than heard someone approach. Opening my eyes, I expected to see Maison, but it was Uncle Mateo, gesturing for me to remove my earbuds.

"We have company," he said quietly once I could hear him. "Jackson and two guards are here."

I straightened immediately. "Viktor's rogues?"

"No sign of them yet, but they're coming." Uncle Mateo's expression was grim. "We need to move."

Maison was already on the stairs, his back to me, speaking with his twin brother in hushed tones. Even from behind, I could tell the difference between them. Where Jackson carried himself confidently, Maison's posture was always rigid and controlled, as if he were constantly holding something back.

Now I understood what that something was.

As I approached, Jackson's eyes widened slightly. "Daisy—or should I say Marabelle?"

"Either is fine," I muttered, uncomfortable with the scrutiny.

Jackson's gaze flicked between Maison and me, a knowing smile playing at his lips. "So, he finally told you."

"Told me what?" I asked stiffly, though I knew exactly what he meant.

"Don't play dumb, little wolf. It doesn't suit you." Jackson's smile widened. "The mate bond. The reason my dear brother has been acting like he's got a stick up his—"

"Enough," Maison growled. "We have more important things to deal with."

One of the guards—a tall female wolf with intricate tattoos snaking up her neck—stepped forward. "Alpha Jackson, the perimeter sensors just picked up movement in the east quadrant."

"How many?" Uncle Mateo asked.

"At least five signatures, moving fast."

Jackson nodded. "They're just the scouts. Viktor wouldn't come with such a small group."

"We need to get her to the compound," Maison said, all business now.

I bristled. "I'm right here. Don't talk about me like I'm not in the room."

Maison finally turned to face me, his expression unreadable. "We need to get 'you' to the compound. Better?"

"Much," I snapped. "But I'm not going to hide while other people fight my battles."

Uncle Mateo placed a hand on my shoulder. "Marabelle."

"You know what, whatever." I snapped, "I'm so over this, just forget it." I finished as I walked over to the far corner.

I hadn't meant to sound so petulant, but the frustration of years in hiding, combined with today's revelations and the constant dismissal of my agency, had finally boiled over. I could feel their eyes on my back as I stood there, arms crossed tightly over my chest.

"Five minutes," Jackson said to the others. "I need a word with our guest."

I heard murmured agreements and footsteps as the guards and Uncle Mateo headed upstairs. Maison hesitated—I could sense his reluctance to leave—but eventually his footsteps followed the others.

Once we were alone, Jackson approached, maintaining a respectful distance.

"He's been insufferable, hasn't he?" he asked, his tone lighter than the situation warranted.

I turned to face him, surprised by the question. "What?"

"Maison. Fighting the mate bond these past years." Jackson leaned against the wall. "For what it's worth, I've told him repeatedly he was being an idiot."

"You knew?" I asked. "About me? About whom am I?"

Jackson shrugged. "Not at first. But I've known my brother all my life. The way he reacted to you—it wasn't normal. So, I started paying attention."

"And you figured it out."

"I suspected," he corrected. "Your scent has always been... familiar somehow. Like a memory I couldn't quite place." He studied me with a frankness his brother never allowed himself. "You look like her, you know. Your mother. I met her once when I was very young."

The mention of my mother sent a pang through my chest. "I don't remember much about her anymore."

"She was formidable. Beautiful, but terrifying when crossed." Jackson smiled slightly. "Much like someone else I know."

Despite myself, I felt my lips quirk upward. "Is this your way of trying to butter me up?"

"Is it working?"

"Not even slightly."

Jackson laughed, a genuine sound that momentarily lightened the atmosphere. "Good. I respect a woman who can't be charmed by pretty words." His expression sobered. "But I need you to understand something about my brother."

"I'm not sure I want to hear it," I said, suddenly weary.

"Too bad, because you need to." Jackson's voice took on an edge I hadn't heard before. "Maison has been carrying the weight of your protection for years. Not just as a duty, but as a physical pain. Do you have any idea what it does to a wolf to deny their mate?"

I looked away. "He could have told me."

"And risk exposing your identity? Risk Viktor finding you?" Jackson shook his head. "My brother would rather suffer than put you in danger. It's been killing him, little by little, every day."

"That was his choice," I said, but the words lacked conviction.

"Yes, it was. A choice he made knowing that one day when you knew the truth it might cost him everything, even the chance to be with you." Jackson stated.

"And you, and cut the crap am I your mate too because it's rare for identical twins to have different mates," I said now starting to get quite p*ss*d off at the run around.

Jackson's eyes widened momentarily before he let out a short laugh. "Ah, so that's what's bothering you."

"Answer the question."

He stepped closer, his expression serious now. "No, Marabelle. You are not my mate. Our wolves are entirely different entities, despite what humans think about identical twins. From the moment Maison caught your scent that first day at Sneakz, I knew you weren't mine."

"How?" I challenged.

"Because I felt nothing." His voice softened. "Nothing beyond recognising you as someone important to my brother. Meanwhile, Maison was practically clawing out of his skin, trying not to shift in the middle of your burger joint."

I searched his face for any sign of deception but found none. "Then why have you both been so cold to me?"

"I followed his lead," Jackson admitted. "It's what we've always done—presented a united front. And frankly, it was easier for everyone if we both maintained distance."

"Yeah, sure, whatever. And you both know I can barely feel my wolf thanks to the medicines that had to be given to me, so asking her is pointless." I spoke; I was completely over it at this point.

Jackson's expression changed instantly, all traces of charm vanishing. "What medicines?"

The intensity of his reaction caught me off guard. "The suppressants. To keep my wolf dormant so I wouldn't accidentally shift and expose myself."

"Who gave you these?" His voice had dropped to a dangerous whisper.

I frowned, confused by his reaction. "Uncle Mateo. Under Alpha Logan's orders. It was part of my protection plan."

Jackson swore violently, running a hand through his hair. "Maison!" he called toward the stairs, his voice urgent. "Get down here. Now!"

Heavy footsteps thundered down the stairs, and Maison appeared, eyes alert for danger. "What is it?"

"She's been on suppressants," Jackson said, the words clipped. "Wolf suppressants. For years."

Maison went completely still, his eyes locking with mine. "Is this true?"

I nodded slowly, growing uneasy at their reactions. "Since I was thirteen. Uncle Mateo said it was the only way to keep me safe in the human world."

"Where is Mateo?" Maison demanded, his voice deadly calm.

"Upstairs, checking—"

Before I could finish, Maison was already moving, taking the stairs two at a time. Jackson caught my arm when I tried to follow.

"Wait," he said firmly. "Let him handle this."

"Handle what?" I pulled away from his grip. "What's going on?"

Jackson's expression was grim. "Those weren't just suppressants, Marabelle. They're poison to born wolves. They don't just suppress the shift—they slowly kill the wolf spirit."

The blood drained from my face. "That can't be right. Uncle Mateo wouldn't—"

A crash from upstairs interrupted me, followed by shouts and the sound of breaking furniture. Jackson cursed and sprinted up the stairs, calling for me to stay put. But there was no way I was staying behind.

By the time I reached the cabin's main floor, chaos had erupted. Maison had Uncle Mateo pinned against the wall, one hand around his throat. The female guard tried pulling him off while Jackson stood between them, attempting to defuse the situation.

"You've been poisoning her!" Maison roared, his eyes glowing gold with barely contained rage. "All these years!"

Uncle Mateo struggled against his grip. "It was necessary! Her safety—"

I felt dizzy with this new betrayal. All these years, I'd trusted Uncle Mateo completely. He'd been my protector, my guide—the only connection to my true heritage.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked him, hurt bleeding into my voice.

"Don't you dare!" Maison tightened his hold. "Wolf suppressants at that dosage for a decade? You were killing her wolf!"

"Stop it!" I shouted, pushing past Jackson. "Let him go!"

Maison's head snapped toward me, his wolf so close to the surface I could almost see it beneath his skin. For a moment, I thought he wouldn't listen, but then his grip loosened, and Uncle Mateo slid to the floor. I ran over to Uncle Mateo, hugging the man who had not only been raised in the ways of a wolf, as my adoptive human parents couldn’t. I knew that Uncle Mateo wouldn’t have delicately tried to hurt me, but then Maison wasn’t going to like it when he found out his father had a hand in it as well.

"He was trying to protect me," I said, my voice quivering with emotion. "You don't understand what it was like. We had to hide."

Maison paced the room like a caged animal, his movements jerky with barely contained fury. "Protection doesn't mean slow poisoning! There are other ways—glamours, scent maskers, training—"

"None as foolproof," Uncle Mateo rasped, his hand at his throat. "One slip, one accidental shift in public, and she'd be dead. We couldn't risk it. After all, it was your father who decided she was to take them; I was just ordered to give them to her. Why do you think she can’t tell that you're her mate, Maison, and questioned you about Jackson?"

The revelation hit like a physical blow. I staggered back, looking between Maison's thunderous expression and Uncle Mateo's defensive posture.

"Alpha Logan ordered this?" Maison's voice had dropped to a dangerous whisper. "My father knew?"

Uncle Mateo nodded grimly. "It was his idea. He said it was the only way to ensure she wouldn't accidentally reveal herself."

Jackson swore under his breath. "That explains why her scent was always muted. We thought it was just good masking agents."

"It's more than that," Uncle Mateo said, his voice regaining strength. "The suppressants were designed specifically to mask her from Viktor. They altered her natural signature."

My hand went to my pendant, seeking its familiar comfort. "Is my wolf... dying?" The words caught in my throat.

Uncle Mateo's eyes softened with genuine remorse. "Not dying, exactly. Dormant. Deeply suppressed. But it can be reversed if we stop the treatments."

"How long?" Maison demanded.

"To fully recover? Months, maybe a year. The dosage has been reduced gradually over time as she learned better control."

"Would you have taken them if you'd known the truth?" Uncle Mateo countered gently.

"That wasn't your decision to make," Maison snarled.

The female guard suddenly tensed, her head tilting toward the window. "Movement. Multiple signatures approaching from the north and west."

Jackson immediately shifted to tactical mode. "How many?"

"At least fifteen. Maybe more."

"They've found us," Uncle Mateo said, struggling to his feet. "We need to move now."

Maison's expression hardened as he looked at me. "When was your last dose?"

"This morning," I admitted. "I take them daily."

He nodded once, decision made. "Then your wolf is still suppressed. You can't fight, and you can't run at wolf speed. We need to get you out through the tunnel."

"I'm not leaving you all to face them," I protested.

"This isn't a discussion," Maison said flatly. "Jackson, take her back through the tunnel. Get her to our father."

Jackson shook his head. "You know I'm the better fighter between us. You take her."

A tense moment passed between the twins, some silent communication I couldn't decipher. Finally, Maison nodded.

"The rest of you hold them off as long as possible," he ordered. "Buy us time to reach the compound."

Uncle Mateo reached for me, his eyes pleading. "Marabelle, I—"

"I know,” I replied, “Please stay safe.”

We headed back downstairs to the cabin. Maison went towards the panel to open the door we came through before I stopped him. I went over to the other wall and touched a finger to the panel on the other side. “We’ll take this one. It takes us right into the Moon Diamond Pack House. Your father will be waiting for us.”

Maison looked surprised but didn't question me, simply nodding and following as I pressed my palm against the hidden scanner. The wall slid open silently, revealing another passageway—narrower and darker than the first.

"How do you know about this tunnel?" Maison asked as we entered, the door sealing shut behind us."Uncle Mateo showed me all the escape routes," I explained, leading the way through the darkness. "But this one was special. Only to be used in the most desperate situations."

The air was stale and cold, and the tunnel had been unused for years. Our footsteps echoed against the stone floor as we moved deeper into the passageway. The only light came from emergency strips embedded in the walls, casting an eerie blue glow over everything.

"It's a direct line to the pack house," I continued when Maison remained silent. "No branches, no detours. Supposedly built by your great-grandfather during the Great Pack Wars."

"I've never heard of it," Maison admitted, his voice tight.

"That's the point. Limited knowledge means limited risk of exposure."

We continued silently for several minutes, the tension between us almost tangible. I could feel Maison's eyes on my back, his reassuring and unsettling presence.

"Your wolf," he finally said. "Do you feel her at all?"

The question made my chest ache. "Sometimes... like a dream you can't quite remember when you wake up. Just impressions, feelings." I hesitated. "She used to be stronger. When I was younger, I could hear her clearly before the suppressants."

"And now?"

"Now she's just... a whisper. A shadow."

Maison's footsteps faltered behind me. "I'm sorry."

The simple apology caught me off guard. I slowed, turning to look at him in the dim blue light. His expression was raw and unguarded—nothing like the cold mask he usually wore.

"For what?" I asked.

"For not knowing. For not stopping it." His jaw clenched. "If I had realised what they were doing to you—"

"You couldn't have known," I interrupted. "I didn't even know."

"I should have," he insisted. "My wolf recognised you instantly. If I hadn't been so determined to fight the connection—"

A distant rumble interrupted him, the tunnel walls trembling slightly around us. We both froze, listening.

"Was that—"

"An explosion," Maison confirmed grimly. "They're attacking the cabin."

My heart lurched. "Uncle Mateo—"

"Is a fighter. So is Jackson." Maison's hand found my arm, urging me forward. "We need to keep moving. That's how we help them—by getting you to safety."

We picked up our pace, nearly jogging through the tunnel. The path began to slope upward, and I knew we were getting closer to the pack house's exit. As the door opened, I expected to see Alpha Logan but found Luna Mara, Maison, and Jackson’s mother.

"Marabelle?" Luna Mara's eyes widened in recognition. Her elegant features—the same ones her sons had inherited—softened with something like wonder. "By the moon, it really is you."

Before I could respond, she pulled me into a fierce embrace. Her scent—warm vanilla and summer rain—enveloped me, stirring memories I'd thought long lost. Luna Mara had been my mother's closest friend, and their bond was legendary among the packs.

"Mother," Maison said urgently. "Viktor's rogues found us at the cabin. The others are holding them off, but we must secure the compound."

Luna Mara released me, her expression shifting instantly to the steel-spined Alpha female I remembered from childhood. "The guards are already mobilised. Your father is coordinating the defensive line with the Delta unit."

"Where is he?" Maison asked, his posture rigid with tension.

"War room." Luna Mara's eyes flickered between us, noting something in her son's stance that made her lips curve slightly despite the gravity of the situation. "Go. I'll take care of Marabelle."

"No," Maison said firmly. "She stays with me."

Luna Mara raised an eyebrow but didn't argue. "Very well. This way, both of you."

We followed her through the hidden door that opened into what appeared to be a storage pantry in the pack house kitchen. The familiar smells of the Diamond pack house hit me with unexpected force—pine, leather, and the distinctive scent of pack magic that permeated the walls themselves.

"The compound is on lockdown," Luna Mara explained as we moved swiftly through the corridors. "All non-combatants are in the safe rooms below."

"How many fighters do we have?" Maison asked.

"Forty-three able-bodied wolves, plus six visiting wolves from the River pack who've volunteered." Luna Mara's voice was crisp; it was all business now. "Viktor's numbers are unknown, but intelligence suggests between twenty and thirty rogues."

My pendant grew warm against my skin as we approached the war room—a large chamber in the east wing that had once been the formal dining room. Through the open doors, I could see Alpha Logan bent over a tactical map, surrounded by his commanders.

He looked up as we entered, his eyes finding mine immediately. His gaze was not surprised but grimly satisfied.

"So, she's finally home," he said, straightening to his full, imposing height. "About time."

Maison moved slightly in front of me, a protective gesture that didn't go unnoticed by his father.

"Interesting," Alpha Logan murmured, his eyes flickering between us. "Very interesting."

"Viktor's rogues attacked the cabin," Maison reported. "Jackson, Mateo, and two guards are holding them off, but they're outnumbered."

"I've already sent reinforcements, and they should be there shortly.” Alpha Logan's eyes narrowed as he studied me. "You look like your mother. Same fire in the eyes."

The mention of my mother sent a pang through my chest, but I straightened my spine and met his gaze. "I understand you're the one who ordered the suppressants."

A tense silence fell over the war room. The commanders exchanged uncomfortable glances, clearly sensing they were witnessing something beyond tactical planning.

"A necessary precaution," Alpha Logan replied, unrepentant. "One that kept you alive."

"One that nearly killed my wolf," I countered, my voice steadier than I felt. "One you didn't bother to explain to me."

"Father," Maison interjected, his voice tight with controlled anger. "We can discuss this later. Right now, we need to focus on the threat."

Alpha Logan's lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile. "Always the tactician. Very well." He turned back to the map, all business once more. "Viktor's forces have split into three groups. The largest contingent attacked the cabin, likely believing you were still there. The second group is positioned here," he pointed to the eastern boundary of pack territory, "blocking the main road to the human settlements."

"And the third?" Luna Mara asked.

"Circling north, trying to flank us. But they won't get far. I've stationed our strongest fighters along that perimeter."

I stepped forward, studying the map. "What does Viktor want? Just me, or is there more to this?"

Alpha Logan's eyes met mine, assessing. "Viktor Bloodmoon wants power. You're merely his path to legitimacy. With you as his mate—willing or not—he could claim rights to the Graystone and Bloodmoon pack territories."

"But both packs were destroyed," I said, confused.

"The packs, yes. The territorial claims, no." Alpha Logan's voice was grim. "Pack lands are bound by blood magic. As the last surviving Graystone, you carry those rights whether you've claimed them or not."

The weight of this revelation settled heavily on my shoulders. I thought I was just a girl in hiding all these years. Now I realised I was something far more valuable, a living deed to ancestral pack lands.

"So even if Viktor can't get to me today, he won't stop trying," I concluded.

"No," Maison agreed, his voice hard. "He won't."

A young wolf burst into the room, breathing hard. "Alpha! We've got incoming from the south tunnel. It's Beta Dean—he's injured but alive."

Alpha Logan barked orders for medical assistance while Maison tensed beside me.

"What about my brother? Mateo? The others?"

The messenger shook his head. "Beta Dean came alone. He said the others were still fighting when he was ordered to report."

Maison's face hardened, but before he could speak, Beta Dean came in; however, his expression had changed. He had to have made his way back to the pack house through the main tunnel system, not the one that Maison or I could have used. Its scanner was locked to Alpha Logan, Uncle Mateo, and me.

Beta Dean staggered into the war room, blood seeping through his torn shirt. His face was bruised, one eye swollen shut, but his expression chilled me—a mixture of fury and something that looked disturbingly like triumph.

"Dean," Maison stepped forward. "Where's Jackson? What happened?"