Chapter 5: The First Session (Kira POV)

The words hit like a slap, but I could feel through the bond that he didn't entirely believe them. This was armor, the same way my invisibility had been armor. A way to survive in a world that wanted to use him.

"Fine," I said. "I'm your meat shield. But I'm a meat shield who can feel when you're in danger. Who can access abilities that might keep us both alive. Who might be able to figure out who killed Adrian Sorenson and the others."

"Others?"

"Your father said this was the fourth murder. Four wolves, all high-ranking, all drained. Someone is hunting your pack, Dante. And I might be the only one who can find them."

He studied me for a long moment. "Because you're a Blood Heir."

"Because I touched Adrian's body and absorbed some of his essence. Sage said I should be able to access his last memories. See what he saw before he died."

"Sage talks too much," Dante muttered. But I could feel his interest through the bond, sharp and focused. "Can you do it? Access the memories?"

"I don't know. I didn't even know I was a Blood Heir until this morning."

"Then we'll find out. Tomorrow. Tonight, you need to rest. The bond will keep draining you until your body adjusts to the connection."

"Where will I…"

"Your room is two doors down from mine. Third floor, east wing." He moved toward the door. "Don't leave the floor without me. The pack is still deciding if you're a threat or an asset. Until then, you're on thin ice."

"Wait." I caught his arm before I could think better of it. The moment our skin touched, the bond flared, and I got a flash of something, a memory, maybe, or a fear. Blood. So much blood. A woman's face, eyes wide with terror.

Dante jerked away like I'd burned him. "Don't touch me without warning."

"Sorry, I…" I swallowed. "Who was she? The woman I just saw?"

His expression closed off completely. "No one. A dead memory."

But through the bond, I felt the lie. Felt the grief underneath, old and deep and infected like a wound that never healed.

"She was your mother," I said quietly.

For a moment, I thought he might hit me. His hand clenched into a fist, his whole body going rigid. Then he forced himself to relax, one muscle at a time.

"Stay out of my head, Kira. I won't warn you again."

He left before I could respond, the door slamming behind him with enough force to rattle the weapons on the walls.

I stood alone in the training room, feeling the echo of his grief through the bond, and realized I'd made a terrible mistake. The bond wasn't just going to show me where Dante was or when he was in danger. It was going to show me everything, every secret, every wound, every carefully hidden vulnerability.

And he was going to see the same things in me.

We were tied together now, two strangers forced to share the most intimate corners of their minds. In a way, it was worse than death. At least death was quick.

This was going to be a long, slow drowning in someone else's pain.

I made my way back to my room, following the thread of the bond like a compass pointing home. The hallways were quiet now, most of the pack bedded down for the night. But I could feel them, dozens of wolves sleeping in close proximity, their combined presence pressing against my senses.

My room was exactly as I'd left it, except someone had placed a small box on the bed. I opened it cautiously and found simple clothes, not the designer items I'd seen on other pack members. Jeans, t-shirts, a leather jacket that looked like it had actually been worn. And underneath, a note in neat handwriting:

"For the invisible girl who's about to become very visible. Try not to die. -Sage"

I set the note aside and collapsed onto the bed. The bond pulsed in my mind, a constant reminder of Dante's presence two doors down. I could feel that he wasn't sleeping either, could sense his restless energy.

Tomorrow, we'd try to access Adrian's memories. Try to find a killer who'd already murdered four wolves and was probably planning more. Try to navigate pack politics that I didn't understand while pretending I wasn't terrified every second.

But tonight, I let myself have one moment of weakness. I pulled out my phone and looked at the last text from my foster brother, Leo. He'd sent it three days ago:

"Movie this weekend? Heard there's a new horror thing you'd like."

I'd never responded. Had been planning to blow him off, the way I always did, keeping everyone at arm's length because that was safer.

Now I might never see him again.

I typed out a response: "Sorry. Something came up. Rain check?"

Then I deleted it without sending. Better that he think I was just being flaky again. Better that he never knew his sister had been claimed by a werewolf pack and was probably going to die doing something monumentally stupid.

I set the phone aside and stared at the ceiling, feeling the bond pulse with Dante's wakeful anger, and wondered if tomorrow I'd regret not running when I had the chance.

Probably.

But at least I'd finally stopped being invisible.

I woke to the sensation of being watched.

My wolf surged to consciousness before my human mind caught up, every instinct screaming danger. I rolled off the bed, landing in a crouch, scanning the room for threats…

Dante leaned against the doorframe, fully dressed in dark jeans and a charcoal sweater, arms crossed. "Good reflexes. Terrible security awareness. I've been standing here for five minutes."

"What the hell?" I grabbed a pillow and threw it at him. He dodged easily. "Ever heard of knocking?"

"Ever heard of locking your door?" He pushed off the frame, stalking into the room. "Rule one of survival, guardian. Never leave yourself vulnerable."

I glanced at the door. There was a lock, a heavy deadbolt I'd completely ignored last night. Exhaustion and the bond's constant input had fried my brain to the point where basic precautions hadn't even occurred to me.

"Point taken," I muttered, running a hand through my tangled hair. "What time is it?"

"Six AM. We have training in thirty minutes."

"Training?"

"Did you think you'd just stumble around blindly, hoping your Blood Heir abilities would magically work?" His tone was scathing. "We need to get you functional as quickly as possible. That means combat training, control exercises, and learning to access Adrian's memories before the trail goes completely cold."

I wanted to argue, wanted to point out that I'd had maybe four hours of sleep, that my entire body ached from the bond ritual, that I'd only learned I was a Blood Heir yesterday. But I could feel through the bond that arguing was pointless. Dante was operating on pure stubborn determination, driving himself forward because stopping meant thinking about things he'd rather avoid.

"Fine," I said. "Let me get dressed."

"Five minutes." He turned toward the door, then paused. "And Kira? Don't try to read me. I can feel when you're pulling on the bond. It's invasive."

"I'm not trying to…"

"You are. Even if it's unconscious. Learn to shield, or this is going to be unbearable for both of us."

He left, and I scrambled into the clothes Sage had left,jeans, a black tank top, the leather jacket. It all fit perfectly, which was either lucky or Sage was better at estimating sizes than should be possible.

When I ventured into the hallway, Dante was waiting, scrolling through his phone with an expression of intense concentration. The moment I stepped out, his head snapped up, the bond alerting him to my proximity.

"This way," he said, not waiting to see if I'd follow.

The training floor was in the basement, far from the polished corporate levels. It was a space designed for wolves—high ceilings to accommodate partial shifts, reinforced walls, floors covered in impact-absorbing mats. And currently occupied by a dozen pack members running through combat drills.

They all stopped when Dante entered. The silence was immediate and absolute, every wolf turning to acknowledge the heir. I felt the weight of their attention shift to me a moment later, and the emotions flooding through the bond from Dante told me exactly what they were thinking: rogue, outsider, threat.

"Ignore them," Dante said quietly. "They'll test you. Don't engage unless you have to."

"And if I have to?"

"Then make it count. Show weakness here, and you'll be torn apart. Figuratively if you're lucky. Literally if you're not."

Comforting.

A woman approached, not Cassidy, but someone new. Mid-thirties, built like an A****n, with scars crisscrossing her exposed arms. Her wolf presence was strong, just barely below Alpha level.

"Dante," she said, nodding respectfully. Then her gaze slid to me. "This the rogue?"

"Kira Volkov. My guardian." The way Dante said it made it clear this wasn't up for discussion. "Kira, this is Vera. Head combat trainer."

Vera circled me slowly, evaluating. "Scrawny. Underfed. Probably never had proper training." Her tone wasn't cruel, just matter-of-fact. "How long have you been surviving on your own?"

"Eleven years. Since I was six."

"Hm. Then you've got some instincts, at least." She gestured to the main mat area. "Let's see what you've got. Try not to embarrass yourself."