LOGIN~ETHAN~ “You can go,” Nyra dismisses me, as if I were the one who had begged to tag along with her. The Wolfy is gone. She is back in her human form now, wearing only an oversized shirt that barely covers her hips and ass, and the image of her being naked stays stuck in my head. I turn away, taking a step back, even though my first instinct is to check on her wounds. She's bleeding, I can see it clearly from the red staining the pale fabric of her shirt. My fingers tighten around the hilt of my silver sword. The cold metal feeling heavy against my palm—a weapon made to hunt her kind, yet holding it now feels strange. I start counting her injuries in my head, weighing the odds. She is bleeding, and blood loss leads to shock. She needs medicine. No. She is a monster, I mean wolf—her body heals itself much faster than a human's. The chances of her bleeding out are low. But what if her body can't keep up this time? Forget it. Stop running the numbers, Ethan. Emotion ruins logic
NYRA.“NYRA!”Aaron’s raw scream tears through the air a second before the shadow hits.I was so focused on Ethan that I didn't even hear the rogue lunging from the bush on my blind side. Fangs graze the nape of my neck, cold wind snapping past as a massive dark jaw snaps inches from my windpipe.Before I can even twist to tear into him, a sound rips through the clearing—a thick, terrifying roar that shakes the very leaves off the trees.It isn't a growl. It’s a violent crack of power.A jet-black wolf, with pale green coating its top fur, easily larger than Knox and nearly matching my own frame, hits the rogue mid-air like a battering ram, the impact sounding like a thunderclap, like lightning striking the ground in one majestic roar.Aaron.My mind halts for a second. He—who whined about Alpha training every single day, who hated the blood, who swore he never wanted to lead—just forced his shift in a split second of pure, unadulterated instinct to protect me.His second shift. In th
~NYRA~ "He survived." Knox sneers from the chair across from my desk, his eyes dark and sharp, saying the words like it's costing him something. "He did," I said, my voice steady and completely assured. A week had passed without a single issue, and somehow, against every expectation my uncle had, Ethan had managed to hold his own. Knox leaned back, crossing his arms, voice accusing. "You're too soft on him." "No, I'm not," I replied, holding his gaze without flinching. "Someone gave him a phone," Aaron mutters from where he was standing by the window, his back to us as he keeps his eyes on the ground below. Fucker. "It only dials me," I shot back, turning my glare on him. "Besides he was injured during the punishment and I need him alive." For the bond. For the council. “Yeah, yeah.” Aaron gulps, shrugging his shoulders, and quickly turns his eyes back out of the window. Knox scoffs, shaking his head. "Alive is one thing. Treating him like a guest in a fucking fiv
~ETHAN~ And when I look back, the wolf is already there. Staring right at me. It's as tall as me, with ash-grey fur that catches the moonlight and turns almost silver. The eyes stand out more—emerald, faintly glowing, fixed and aware. It steps forward. The wood groans under the shift in weight. Heavier than it looks. Seventy kilos, at least. Another step. The floor creaks louder this time, the sound stretching through the narrow space like a warning. “Stop,” I say. It does, turning its head towards me, fully focused. “The wood is old,” I add, almost automatically. The wolf blinks. Then its tail gives a slow, controlled wag like it understood exactly what I meant. It's…it's mesmerizing. I don’t move immediately, just watch. The wolf holds where it is, weight even, head level, eyes fixed on me, not pacing, not testing distance, just… waiting. My pulse is already up, shoulders tight. Every instinct wired the wrong way—too alert, too ready to pull back. The howls are still
~ETHAN~ I don't know if it's only at night but this Ridge looks worse. Empty and wrong, too quiet, the wind cutting across the ridge the only sound, colder than it should be, slipping through my jacket and settling deeper the longer I stand here. The post’s barely holding up too, wood worn out, edges rough under my palm, one side creaking every time the wind hits it wrong, a bulb fixed low near the base—dim, flickering like it might give out any second, not doing much anyway cause most of the light comes from the moon, spreading across the ridge in uneven patches and leaving the rest in shadow. Inside the cubicle, there's some water, a chair and a blanket. Only the essentials. I lean against the frame, arms folded, the wood cold even through the fabric, eyes fixed on the stretch ahead, open land, nothing to block the view, nothing to hide behind either. The wind shifts again, carrying dust and something faint under it. I stay still, body too alert, not nerves, just… aware
~NYRA~ “Where is that fucking mutt?!” It doesn’t sound like a voice—it hits, a brutal strike straight to the skull. My step falters, just half a beat, but it’s enough. The Alpha command tears through me, raw and merciless, sinking into bone, demanding obedience before thought can even form. My jaw locks. Behind me, Ethan shifts. He didn’t hear it, but he felt it. Everyone did. The corridor has gone too still, the kind of silence that presses against your ears. Omegas straighten as I pass, eyes dropping instantly, but I catch it—resentment buried under fear. I stop at the office door, my hand hovering for a fraction of a second—not hesitation, calculation—before I knock once and push it open as the door slams against the wall. He’s already on his feet, my uncle doesn’t sit when he’s angry. His presence fills the room before his voice does, thick and suffocating, like the air’s been stripped of oxygen. “Finally.” The word cracks like a whip as his gaze slices past me and lo







