Zoey
The sleek black car purrs to a stop just beyond the training field. The moment it arrives, tension coils through the pack like a snake waking from slumber. People murmur, shift uneasily. The older warriors stiffen. The pups run to their mothers. Then he steps out. And the world stops. Tall. Unmoving. Dressed in black like he’s come to bury us. He doesn’t speak. Doesn’t smile. Just lets his blood-red eyes glide over the crowd like he owns the air we breathe. Alpha Kieran Danes. The man who conquered kingdoms, broke bloodlines, and made Alphas kneel. Now he’s here. And Arrow Heart Pack… is his. I shouldn’t look at him. Omegas aren’t allowed to stare. But something in me—deep and unfamiliar—defies reason. A pull. An ache. My wolf, Mia, stirs so suddenly I nearly stumble. She hasn’t made a sound in ten years, and now her presence feels like a hurricane trapped in my chest. “Him…” she breathes. “He’s the one.” No. I can’t. I won’t. I rip my gaze away, heart pounding. Whatever that was, I don’t want it. I retreat to the hallway near the conference room, where no one pays attention to shadows like me. I need space to breathe. To think. To forget those eyes. But fate never lets me breathe for long. The door slams open. I jump up, head down, ready to move. But I move too fast— And crash into someone solid. A hand grabs my arm like iron, steadying me before I fall. Then the world tilts. It’s him. The Alpha. His skin is fire against mine. His grip tightens just enough to remind me he could snap my bones if he wanted. His eyes lock on mine, and something violently ancient pulls between us. Not soft. Not sweet. Raw. Primal. Dangerous. “Who are you?” he growls—low and confused, like his instincts are shouting at him. My throat closes. Before I can speak, a sharp crack shatters the moment. A hand slaps across my cheek, hard enough to spin my head. Lily. Of course. “Don’t touch her,” she snaps, stepping in front of him, her voice sugary and sharp like a poisoned blade. “She’s just the help. Stupid little omega doesn’t know her place.” My cheek stings. My fists clench. But I don’t bow. Not this time. For the first time in years, I stand my ground—even as the heat of Kieran’s gaze sears through me like wildfire. His eyes narrow. He says nothing. But he doesn’t look away. Not even as I slip out of the hallway, back straight, trembling from the inside out. He felt it. I know he did. And worse… So did I. Two Days Later The whispers haven’t stopped. “She flinched like he was going to mark her.” “I bet she’ll beg to be his whore next.” “She should thank Luna Lily for saving her.” Let them talk. I’ve endured worse than gossip. But Kieran hasn’t left. He’s still here. And the longer he stays, the more I feel my world tilt off balance. Today, the pack gathers to witness what we all knew was coming. A duel. One Alpha against another. A show of dominance. I stay in the back, where omegas belong. Until he steps into the arena. Alpha Kieran doesn’t posture. Doesn’t roar. His presence alone sends the warriors to silence. He’s dressed for war—black vest, combat pants, bare arms inked with symbols I can’t read. But it’s his stillness that chills me. He doesn’t look like a man about to fight. He looks like a man about to execute. Alpha Alex stands opposite him, pale, sweating. Already broken. The rules are announced: no shifting, no magic, first to submit loses. If Alex loses, the pack bends the knee. Permanently. The fight doesn’t last a minute. Kieran dodges every strike like it’s beneath him. Then he moves—one hit to the ribs, a twist, and Alex is flat on the mat, wheezing under his boot. “I submit!” Alex gasps. Kieran doesn’t move. Doesn’t blink. He leans down, cold fury behind his eyes. “You’re lucky I need your allegiance more than I want your blood.” The crowd stays dead silent. Because it’s done. We belong to him now. I slip into the kitchen to avoid the victory celebration. I just want quiet. But as I pass the storage room, I hear voices. Low. Heated. “We can’t let him get too close,” Lily hisses. “Especially with her still alive.” My blood runs cold. “Don’t remind me,” Alex growls. “I killed the Alpha for this pack. I buried her whole damn family. If that girl remembers anything—” He stops. A sound—bone cracking. My knees weaken. It was him. He murdered my parents. He destroyed my brother. He left me for dead. My breath catches. My chest starts to glow faintly—barely visible, but real. Then I feel it. Not just power. Awakening. Panic claws through me. And then— He appears. Kieran. At the doorway. Watching. Sensing. He stares at the light flickering from my skin. His expression darkens—but it isn’t anger. It’s recognition. “Your power…” he murmurs. I back away, heart hammering. But it’s too late. He saw. And now everything is about to change.Zoey’s POV Hot water or cold water. I can’t decide. The hot water scorches my skin, lashing me like a punishment I deserve. Punishment for what, I can’t even put into words—maybe for the crime Zach believes I committed. The crime I don’t remember, but the one that lingers like smoke clinging to my lungs. Then I twist the knob, and the cold crashes over me. It numbs me. It silences the burn, the guilt, the ache in my chest. It makes me feel like nothing at all, and maybe that’s worse. I go back and forth for what feels like hours. Boiling heat, freezing cold. Pain and numbness. A cruel rhythm I can’t seem to stop. Each shift feels like me bargaining with myself, punishing, then forgiving, then punishing again. But I know I can’t stay under forever. The water drips from my hair when I finally twist the knobs shut. My breaths are shallow, shaky, but at least I look less like the broken thing I feel inside. My hair is clean. My face is flushed but clear, the bruise nearly gone. The
Kieran’s POV The ache in my chest blooms again, sharp and familiar, like claws raking against bone. I hate it. Hate how it owns me. There’s only one person who can stir that ache—Zoey. And the worst part is, it almost makes me miss the days when I felt nothing at all. When I was colder, harder, detached. Safer. Now every second without her feels like drowning in fire. The room around me hums with noise, voices colliding in frantic bursts, but they blur in and out of my focus. I’m clawing for something steady, for air that doesn’t feel like glass in my lungs. “Isn’t there a spell or something you could do?” Lucien’s voice cuts through, jagged with frustration. Anders answers, sounding frayed at the edges, his words drowned out by the clatter of books and journals as he rifles through them. “I’ve tried tracking her blood, but it’s untraceable.” His voice is rough, weighed down by guilt. He was the last one to see her. Of course he feels the shadow of blame. Lucien bristles, his wo
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