LOGINJEREMY’S POV
I smelled the blood before I even reached the house.
My wolf surged forward, clawing at my insides. Something was wrong. Very wrong. I pushed through the front door and the scent hit me full force—death, fear, and underneath it all, her.
Lyra.
I ran up the stairs three at a time, following the sounds of shouting and her muffled screams. My heart was hammering so hard it hurt.
The bedroom door was open. What I saw made my vision go red.
Caspian had his hands wrapped around Lyra's throat. Her face was turning purple, eyes wide with terror. Orion and Silas held her arms twisted behind her back. Rowan stood to the side, face cold and watching. Raphael was there too, just staring like he didn't know what to do.
And on the floor between them—Dad. Covered in blood. Not moving.
"Get off her!" I roared, grabbing Caspian by the back of his shirt and throwing him across the room.
He crashed into the wall hard. Orion lunged at me but I shoved him back. Silas let go of Lyra's arm and she collapsed, gasping for air.
"What the hell are you doing?" I snarled, putting myself between them and her.
"Protecting what's ours," Caspian spat, pushing himself up from the floor. His eyes were wild, grief and rage mixing into something dangerous. "This bitch killed Dad! Look at her—she's covered in his blood!"
"She murdered him," Silas said coldly, his voice deadly calm. "Her and that gold-digging mother of hers. Probably planned it together. Kill the Alpha, take the pack, take everything."
Behind me, Lyra sobbed. The sound tore through my chest like claws.
"She didn't kill him," I said, my voice coming out harder than I meant. "She wouldn't."
"How the fuck would you know?" Orion demanded, stepping closer. His fists were clenched, ready to fight. "You just got here. She's got Dad's blood all over her hands, Jeremy. Open your goddamn eyes."
"I know," I growled back.
The words hung in the air. My brothers all stared at me, suspicion crawling across their faces.
"What do you mean, you know?" Rowan asked slowly. His eyes narrowed. "How do you know anything about her?"
Shit. I'd said too much. But I couldn't take it back now.
"I just know," I repeated, meeting each of their stares. My wolf pushed at my control, wanting to shift, wanting to protect her. "Trust me. She didn't do this."
"Trust you?" Caspian laughed, but it sounded broken. "You walk in here defending some girl we just met? Dad's dead, Jeremy. Dead. And she's the only one here with him."
"I heard him crying," Lyra choked out from behind me. Her voice was raw, hoarse from Caspian's hands on her throat. "I came to help. He grabbed me and said—he said something about me being special. That you don't know what I am. Then he just... he just died. I didn't do anything. I swear I didn't."
"Liar," Silas said flatly. "Convenient story. The innocent girl just trying to help."
"It's the truth!" Lyra cried.
"Shut up," Caspian snarled, starting toward her again.
I moved faster, shoving him back hard. "Touch her again and I'll break your fucking jaw."
"You want to fight me over her?" Caspian's voice dropped low and dangerous. "Our father is dead and you're defending his killer?"
"She's not a killer."
"Then what is she to you?" Raphael spoke for the first time, his voice quiet but cutting. His eyes burned into mine. "Why are you so sure, Jeremy? What aren't you telling us?"
The question hung heavy between us. I could feel all their eyes on me now. Waiting. Demanding answers I couldn't give.
Because how could I tell them? How could I explain that I'd hired her, claimed her, marked her skin with my mouth and hands? That she smelled like mine even though she wasn't? That my wolf recognized something in her I didn't understand?
"Call the pack doctor," I said instead, avoiding the question. "Have him examine Dad. If she poisoned him or stabbed him or whatever you think she did, he'll find proof."
"Fine," Silas said coldly. He pulled out his phone. "Dr. Chen. Get here now. Emergency."
The room fell into tense silence. Lyra stayed on the floor, shaking. I wanted to go to her, pull her close, but I couldn't. Not with my brothers watching every move.
Minutes crawled by like hours. Finally, Dr. Chen arrived with his medical bag. He was an older wolf, had been with our pack for decades. He knelt beside Dad's body and started his examination.
We all watched in silence. Waiting.
Dr. Chen checked Dad's eyes, his mouth, his chest wound. He took samples of the blood. His movements were slow, careful, thorough.
"Well?" Caspian demanded after what felt like forever. "What killed him?"
Dr. Chen sat back on his heels, his face grave. "Poison. Wolfsbane, mixed with something else I'll need to test for. But this wasn't administered tonight."
"What do you mean?" Orion asked.
"I mean he's been poisoned slowly over months," Dr. Chen said quietly. "Small doses, building up in his system. His organs were failing. The heart attack tonight was just the final result of long-term poisoning."
The words hit like a bomb.
Months. Not tonight. Not Lyra.
"You're saying she didn't do it?" Rowan asked slowly.
"I'm saying whoever killed your father started long before this girl arrived," Dr. Chen confirmed. He looked at Lyra with something like pity. "She couldn't have done this."
Relief crashed through me so hard my knees almost buckled. She was innocent. I knew it, but hearing it confirmed made my wolf settle slightly.
My brothers stood frozen, the rage draining from their faces into something worse—grief, confusion, guilt.
"Let her go," I said quietly.
Caspian's jaw clenched but he stepped back. Silas did the same. Orion looked away.
But the hatred in their eyes didn't fade. Not really. They might know she didn't kill Dad, but they still didn't want her here. Still saw her as an outsider, an intruder in our pack.
"This doesn't change anything," Silas said coldly, looking at Lyra like she was dirt. "You're not welcome here. You understand? This isn't your home."
"Silas—" I started.
"Stay out of it, Jeremy," he cut me off. "Whatever connection you have with her, I don't want to know. But she's not pack. She's not family. And I want her gone."
Before anyone could respond, the door opened again.
Iris rushed in, her face painted with fake tears. She looked at Marcus's body and let out a dramatic wail.
"Oh no! Marcus! My love!" She pressed her hands to her face, sobbing loudly. Then her eyes found Lyra. "You. This is your fault. You brought bad energy into this house. Now look what's happened! They're going to blame us both because of you!"
"Mom, I didn't—"
"Don't call me that," Iris hissed, somehow making herself look like the victim. "I finally found happiness and you ruined it. You always ruin everything."
Lyra's face crumpled. The pain in her eyes made my chest tight.
Iris turned to my brothers, tears streaming down her face. "I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I should never have brought her here. Please forgive me. I've lost my husband because of her curse."
I watched her performance with disgust. She was good. Really good. Playing the grieving widow perfectly while throwing her own daughter under the wolves.
My brothers bought it. I could see it in their faces—sympathy for Iris, more hatred for Lyra.
Lyra just stood there, covered in blood, shaking and alone. Everyone against her. Even her own mother.
My wolf howled inside me, desperate to protect her.
But I couldn't. Not without explaining everything. And I wasn't ready for that fight.
Not yet.
Lyra's POVThe world didn't fix itself overnight. But it started trying.In the weeks after the battle, Konstantin's network collapsed piece by piece. Without him at the center holding everything together, the system he had built over decades unraveled the way all systems built on fear eventually do, quickly and completely. Transport routes went dark. Shell companies dissolved. Facilities were raided by coalitions of packs who had spent years pretending they didn't know what was happening inside them.The wolves he imprisoned were freed. Not all at once and not without difficulty, because some of them had been captive for so long that the outside world felt more dangerous than the cages they lived in. But one by one, they walked out. Some went home to packs that had been searching for them. Others found new communities willing to take them in. A few stayed at the hidden pack's territory, choosing to help rebuild the place that had sheltered people like them for years.The Council was r
Lyra's POVI stopped fighting.Not because I gave up. Because I finally understood that fighting wasn't what I was built for. Every instinct that had been driving me since I first shifted, the aggression, the fury, the desperate need to match Konstantin's violence with my own, all of it had been pointing me in the wrong direction. The white wolf was never meant to destroy. It was meant to restore.So I changed.I stopped throwing myself at Konstantin's body and started reaching for what was inside it.The shift happened in my chest first. The white light that had been burning outward like a weapon reversed its flow, turning inward before expanding again in a completely different frequency. Not aggressive. Resonant. Like a tuning fork struck against a surface that made everything around it vibrate at the same pitch.I felt them immediately. The stolen powers trapped inside Konstantin's body, dozens of them, layered on top of each other like voices screaming in a room with no doors. Each
Lyra's POVThe reinforced door opened, and the ritual chamber swallowed me whole.The room was enormous. Cathedral ceilings carved directly into the mountain's bedrock, rising so high above us that the top disappeared into shadows that the torchlight couldn't reach. The walls were covered in symbols. Not painted. Carved. Hundreds of them, spiraling outward from the center of the floor in concentric circles that pulsed with a faint, sickly glow that had no visible source.Artifacts lined the edges of the chamber on stone pedestals. Bones. Teeth. Claws sealed in glass containers. Vials of blood so old that the liquid had turned black. Every one of them taken from wolves Konstantin had hunted, and every one of them radiating a frequency that my wolf could feel like needles pressing into the inside of my skull.The energy in the room was wrong. Not dangerous in the way a weapon is dangerous. Wrong in the way that a body is wrong when too many things are living inside it at once. Dozens of
Silas's POVThe fortress appeared through the trees at 4:47 in the morning, and the word building didn't do it justice.It was carved into the mountainside itself, a structure of concrete and steel and reinforced stone that looked like it had been designed by someone who expected to be attacked and wanted every attacker to understand the futility of trying. Guard towers rose from the corners at thirty foot intervals. Floodlights swept the approach in overlapping arcs that left almost no ground uncovered. Defensive barriers lined the perimeter in three staggered rows, each one positioned to funnel anyone approaching into kill zones where the crossfire would be devastating.Konstantin hadn't just prepared for us. He had built a monument to the expectation that someone would eventually come."Well." Jeremy's voice came through the comm, dry and steady despite what we were looking at. "That's terrifying.""Positions." Raphael's voice cut through immediately. No commentary. No hesitation. "
Orion's POVThe night before the end of the world felt quieter than it should have.We set up camp at the base of the mountain range, close enough to the ritual site that we could reach it by dawn but far enough that Konstantin's scouts wouldn't detect us in the dark. The vehicles were parked in a tight circle under a canopy of pine trees, and the supplies were laid out on tarps across the forest floor like the inventory of a war nobody wanted to fight.I spent the first hour sharpening weapons. Silver alloy blades, reinforced tips, the edges honed to a thinness that caught the firelight and threw it back in razor thin lines. My hands moved automatically, following a rhythm I had learned years ago, while my mind sat somewhere else entirely.Tomorrow, we were walking into the most heavily guarded facility Konstantin had ever built to stop a ritual that would make him permanently unstoppable. The plan was solid. Silas had mapped every entry point and structural weakness. Victoria's files
Raphael's POVThe files Victoria sent contained enough evidence to dismantle Konstantin's entire network. Facility layouts, guard rotations, the ritual timeline, corrupt Council members, financial trails. Everything Silas had been chasing for weeks, delivered in a single anonymous upload from someone inside the enemy's own house.My brothers focused on the ritual. The location, the approach routes, the structural vulnerabilities. They studied the maps and built strategies and calculated every variable they could measure.I couldn't stop looking at one name.Aldric Voss. Page seven of the Council asset list, with a handwritten notation in Konstantin's handwriting linking him directly to Stella's elimination. Confirmed asset. Reliable. Those were the words used to describe the man who traded our mother's life for money and protection.For eleven years, that man sat in Council chambers, attended diplomatic functions, shook the hands of pack leaders who would have torn him apart if they kn
LYRA'S POVThe walk back to the mansion was a blur of cold air and hot shame. Raphael’s jacket was heavy on my shoulders, but it didn’t warm the ice in my chest. He tried to talk to me in the car, his voice low.“They’re nothing. Vicious little girls playing at being queens. I’ll deal with them. You
JEREMY’S POVI smelled the blood before I even reached the house.My wolf surged forward, clawing at my insides. Something was wrong. Very wrong. I pushed through the front door and the scent hit me full force—death, fear, and underneath it all, her.Lyra.I ran up the stairs three at a time, follo
Lyra’s POVThe dining room was ridiculous—a table that could seat twenty, crystal glasses that caught the light like diamonds, plates with gold edges. I sat between Iris and an empty chair, feeling like an imposter in my cheap dress.Marcus sat at the head of the table, looking like a king. Caspian
Lyra’s POVThree days of walking the streets. Three days of "we'll call you" that never came. Three days of doors closing in my face.I sat on a bench in the park, my last five dollars in my pocket, and stared at the job listings on my cracked phone screen. Every application asked the same question







