Zoey
I wake gasping, arms flailing, heart pounding like a war drum. No mildew. No boot to the ribs. No shrieking Luna overhead. Just… silence. Too silent. My body jerks upright on instinct, knees hitting plush carpet. Carpet? I brace for pain anyway. For screaming. For blood. But it doesn’t come. My breaths come shallow, uneven. I don’t lift my head—too many years trained me not to. But I feel it: the weight of the air, thick with dominance. Someone’s watching. My eyes flicker to the floor. Not dusty boards, but soft, pristine carpet under my bare feet. I risk a glance upward, chest tight. The bed behind me is massive. Sheets unwrinkled. Expensive. Clean. This isn’t the attic. The oversized hoodie and soft sweats clinging to my body make me flinch. I don’t remember putting them on. Who touched me? Panic grips my throat. I force myself to scan the room — then freeze. He’s there. Sitting in the shadows. Like a wolf waiting for the perfect moment to pounce. Arms spread across the back of a leather sofa, legs spread wide, posture relaxed — but the tension rolling off him is volcanic. His golden eyes are molten steel, watching me like I’m prey. Alpha Kieran. The ruthless conqueror. The destroyer of my pack. The name whispered in nightmares and battlefield prayers. And he’s real. Right here. Watching me. Mia stirs violently inside me, snarling with something like recognition. Or hunger. “You move like a whipped dog,” he says coldly. “Is that what you are?” His voice is velvet-wrapped daggers. Calm, deadly. I flinch anyway. “N-no,” I stammer, my voice humiliatingly soft. “I… I’m Zoey.” His brows lift, unimpressed. “That’s a name. Not an answer.” I swallow hard, fists clenching at my sides. “I’m the pack omega.” He leans forward, elbows on his knees, studying me. “You were born of Alpha blood… yet you crawl like you’re nothing.” Shame scorches through me, swift and merciless. I look away. He stands. And suddenly he’s in front of me, towering over me, the energy pouring off him so intense I can barely breathe. “You reek of fear,” he growls. “But not weakness. What are you hiding?” “I don’t—” I start, but the air shifts. Kieran’s hand lifts, not to strike… but to touch my face. I freeze. His fingers graze my cheek, and I hate the way my body reacts — burning, shaking, wanting. Mia howls in my chest. He jerks his hand back like he felt it too. “Get up,” he orders. “You’re not a prisoner. But you are mine now.” His words crash into me like a blade. “Yours?” “You were part of the enemy. Now, you’re under my rule. That makes you mine to use. Or to destroy.” He turns sharply and walks out. And I follow. I don’t know why. Maybe I want answers. Maybe I want to prove something. Maybe it’s the mate pull that has Mia clawing at my insides. We emerge into chaos. Training grounds stretch across the compound, warriors clashing, snarling, bleeding — this isn’t discipline. It’s war prep. Heads turn as we pass. I hear them. “The broken omega.” “She’s the Alpha’s pet now?” “She should’ve died with her pack.” Their words don’t sting — they slice. But I keep walking. Kieran stops suddenly. “They think you’re weak,” he murmurs. “You going to prove them right?” Before I can respond, something surges inside me. Hot. Violent. Electric. A pulse of energy shoots down my spine. The world spins. I clutch my chest. Visions slam into my skull—chains, fire, a figure screaming my name. Mia’s voice is a scream: It’s starting. I fall to my knees. Hands grab me. Kieran. His grip is vice-like. His eyes… they’re glowing. “What did you just do?” he snarls, yanking me upright. “I— I don’t know,” I gasp. “It just— it’s never happened before.” “You’re lying.” “I’m not!” “You’re hiding something,” he snaps, eyes burning into mine. “And I will rip it out of you if I have to.” Then— A howl splits the sky. Everything freezes. A second one follows. Closer. Louder. Kieran’s grip tightens. His voice drops to a deadly whisper. “Someone’s coming. And they’re coming for you.” My blood turns cold. And for the first time since waking here, I realize… This wasn’t a rescue. It was a reckoning.Zoey's POVThe sound of dripping water lingers in the distance, a slow and rhythmic echo in the silence. My eyes flutter open, the bruised skin on my cheek a painful reminder of what happened just before I lost consciousness. My heart stutters in my chest, a fearful thrum that vibrates with the terror of what I saw—and what I thought I saw. The confusion creeps in like a cold fog. Could it have been real? Or was it just a twisted product of fatigue, of the Moonbane root that had been pumped into my system.I try to reassure myself, I tell myself it’s not possible. Even if Zach is alive, he wouldn’t hurt me. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t do something like this.And then, I hear it. The voices.“Are you sure this is the best thing?” A voice I recognize.“It’s fine,” another responds, low and deliberate. “They’ll never think to check here.”Their words slice through my foggy mind, dragging me back to the present. The thin thread of strength I have left urges me to peek my heavy eyelids open j
Kieran’s POVLucien keeps stealing nervous glances in my direction, and honestly, I don’t blame him. Even I’m a little surprised at how calm I feel. Maybe it’s because, for once, everything seems to be in place—Zoey’s safe, the pack is steady, and despite the coming war, there’s a fragile sense of order. Or maybe I’m just pretending I don’t feel the storm building beneath my skin.“What’s this meeting about?” I ask, keeping my voice low as we move through the long corridor leading to the meeting room. The sound of our foot steps echoes off the quiet hall, the only sound besides the distant grunts of the sparing soldiers.“To clarify the terms of the war,” Lucien mutters, clearly irritated. “I can’t believe you didn’t know.”I shrug. “It doesn’t really matter. Matilda probably meant to tell me—she said there was something urgent yesterday.”“And he shouldn’t be allowed to schedule meetings with such short notice,” Lucien adds with a scowl. “And shouldn’t Damon be here for this?”I glan
Zoey’s POV I try not to think of the worst-case scenario. He’s the Alpha King of the werewolves, after all—one preparing for war to defend his throne. If anyone embodies the word busy, it’s him. Yes. That has to be it. So, I dress slowly, forcing my hands not to tremble as I slip on one of the oversized shirts I’ve come to favor. I take a deep breath and try to resume my routine, pretending that everything is fine. Lucien and I usually have breakfast together by now, but as the minutes tick by, that hope dissolves like mist. Then, a text buzzes on my phone. “Can’t make breakfast this morning. But Raven will be there soon. Meet up later.” —Luce. I stare at the message for a long second before nodding to myself, even though no one’s there to see it. It’s okay. He’s just... busy. Soon enough, there’s a knock at the door. Raven stands on the other side, her normally easy going demeanor replaced with an anxious tightness in her eyes. “You ready?” she asks. I nod, not trusting mys
Kieran’s POV The stares are different this time—but I don’t mind. Let them look. With Zoey asleep in my arms, there’s only one thing on my mind: getting her to bed, safe and undisturbed. Her weight against me is feather-light, yet she anchors my whole world. Each step I take feels like I'm walking toward something sacred. And when I finally lay her down on her bed, it feels like an exhale I’ve been holding for hours. Her chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm, calming and soft. Strands of her hair spill across her face in wild curls, catching the rising sunlight. I reach out gently, brushing it away, tucking it behind her ear. The moment my fingers meet her skin, a chill races down my spine. Not mine. Hers. I still. Ragnar stirs. Something’s bothering her... a dream? A memory? I ball my fists at my sides, jaw clenched. It’s maddening how powerless I feel when it comes to protecting her from what I can’t see—what I can’t fight. “There’s someone watching...” Ragnar growls in my
Zoey’s POVLeaving the office with Raven, I feel more confident than I ever have in my entire life. The air feels different, like the world is subtly acknowledging my shift. My steps are lighter, my thoughts clearer.“Whew,” Raven exhales as we descend the stairs of the pack house. The late morning light filters in through the high windows, casting golden rays over her dark curls. “That was intense.”“I know, right?” I reply, the edges of my mouth curving into a smirk.“And you actually kept Kieran in check,” she says with amusement, nudging me. “No one has ever been able to do that. Not even Aubrey.”My cheeks flush at the comment. The warmth in my face spreads to my chest, a quiet thrill rising with the realization of just how strong the mate bond is. It's more than emotional—it’s cosmic. Powerful.The entire walk to Anders’ cabin, a smile teases my lips, refusing to leave.“Wow,” Anders says as I step into his cabin. The rustic smell of his home greets me, earthy and grounding. “So
Kieran’s POV Waking up with Zoey curled against my side makes the looming uncertainties of the day feel like distant storms on the horizon—still threatening, but not yet here. Her warmth grounds me, a quiet reminder of what matters. For a moment, everything else fades. Just her. Just us. We get dressed quietly, exchanging soft looks and a few hushed words, and then make our way to the office. There's still unfinished business from last night, and it demands our full attention. Raven and Lucien are already there, waiting. Zoey settles into her seat beside me, her expression calm but alert. We discuss the plan again—clean, deliberate, and necessary. Then, Lily is brought in. It doesn't take long for things to spiral. Lily opens her mouth and says something smug, something stupid. The words barely leave her throat before Ragnar surges forward. My vision tints red, and before I know it, my hand is wrapped around hers. She gasps violently as her feet lift off the floor, her throat crus