LOGINBecca’s lungs burned as she pressed herself deeper into the narrow space behind the collapsed shelves.Dust clung to her hair and skin, mixing with sweat and blood she didn’t know was hers or someone else’s. The air was thick with smoke, fear, and sickness all feeling choking and heavy. Around her, the orphans whom she was taking care of before the attack huddled together in terrified silence, their small bodies shaking, some too weak even to cry.Mira crouched beside her, one arm protectively curved around a little girl whose skin was far too pale, her breathing shook faintly in her chest.“Quiet,” Mira whispered again, though no one had made a sound.The hideout shook.A distant explosion sent loose stones tumbling from the ceiling. One hit the ground close enough that Becca flinched, instinctively wrapping an arm around her stomach.A fresh wave of fear rolled through her as she thought about her baby.“How did they find us?” Becca whispered, her voice barely more than breath.Mi
The first scream cut through the strategy chamber like a blade.Eugene’s head snapped up instantly, his instincts roaring before his mind could catch up.“That wasn’t from the outer tunnels,” Dorian said sharply. “That was inside.”Robin swore under his breath. Sax straightened from the map table, his eyes hard, disbelief flickering across his face.“That’s impossible,” Sax said. “No one knows this location.”A horn went off, the sound echoing through stone and bone alike.Max’s claws snapped fully free as his senses came into full alert.“They’re here.”For half a heartbeat, no one spoke then the truth slammed into them all at once.Desmond had found the hideout.Eugene’s chest tightened so violently it stole his breath. His mind didn’t go to strategy or formations or counterattacks. It went to Becca, Mira and the child growing inside her.“Becca,” Eugene said, already turning toward the exit.Dorian caught his arm. “Alpha Eugene—”“I know,” Eugene said fiercely. “But if anything ha
Jack stood in his chambers, sleeves rolled slightly, preparing for what should have been an ordinary evening by Blackwood standards but tonight, the walls felt thinner.Outside his window, too many torches moved. Guards crossed the courtyard in groups instead of pairs, armor gleaming beneath the moonlight.Jack’s jaw tightened.“So it begins,” he murmured.Tomorrow was going to be a bloody day.Jack moved closer to the window, resting his forearm against the stone as he watched the activity of war preparations below.His thoughts immediately went to the forest, to the resistance hideout then to Eugene, with his careful plans and impossible sense of responsibility. His mind also went to Becca and Mira then his fingers curled slowly.“They shouldn’t be anywhere near this tonight,” he muttered.He had no way of knowing where they were, no way to warn them and no way to stop what was already in motion.That was the cruelty of his position of standing in the heart of the beast, unable to
Eugene stood over the table, his hands braced flat against the wood, his shoulders rigid beneath his coat. His eyes moved slowly, deliberately, committing every detail on the map to memory even though he already knew them by heart. He had walked these plans in his mind so many times they haunted his dreams or what little sleep he managed.His jaw was clenched, a faint muscle ticking as the weight of command pressed down on him. Every person in this room trusted him. Every person in the resistance believed he would lead them through the fire and he could not afford to let them down.Max stood at his right, arms crossed tightly over his chest. His claws were half-extended, the tips glinting faintly in the candlelight. It was a subconscious sign, one Eugene had learned to recognize as pure agitation. Max’s foot tapped against the floor, his gaze flicking constantly toward the entrance, his senses stretched thin.“This is the last run-through,” Eugene said at last, breaking the silenc
At the heart of the mansion, behind thick doors, Desmond had not left his study for long time and the room looked like the aftermath of a storm.Scrolls lay scattered across the massive desk and the floor beside it were maps marked with red ink, troop movements sketched and resketched, weak points circled again and again until the it was worn thin. Desmond stood over the desk, both hands braced against its surface, shoulders rigid, spine straight with the kind of tension that came from refusing to break.He had been staring at the same map for nearly an hour and his thoughts refused to obey him.Every time his focus slipped, his mind betrayed him by pouring out memories he wished he could forget. Desmond’s jaw tightened until it ached.“No,” he muttered, as if the thought itself were an enemy. “Not now.”He slammed his palm against the desk, rattling the ink and sending a quill rolling to the floor.“Focus,” he growled to himself. “Focus.”The resistance would attack soon or he wou
The room smelled of bitter herbs and crushed flowers meant to be some kind of therapeutic process but Seraphina hated it.She lay half-reclined against a mound of pillows, pale silk sheets drawn neatly to her waist, her hair brushed but dull, lacking the former shine it once carried so effortlessly. Sunlight streamed through tall windows, yet none of it seemed to warm her skin.Ava sat beside the bed, carefully dipping a cloth into a basin of lukewarm water.“You need to drink this,” Ava said softly, lifting a cup toward Seraphina’s lips. “The new healer said it will help with the dizziness.”Seraphina turned her head away sharply. “I am not dizzy" she said harshly, her lips pressed tight.Ava held the cup there anyway. “You nearly died. You need to get your strength back.”Seraphina’s eyes flashed. “Lower your voice. I am not some fragile thing.”Ava bit back a sigh and lowered the cup slightly, though she did not put it down. “You’ve been unconscious for days, Seraphina. Your b







