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Freya's pov
“You’re nothing but a weak, mysterious waif. You think you’re worthy of being my mate? No way! You’re a shame to the whole of the Whiteclaw.”
The words thwack repeatedly in my mind, a bittersweet tune I couldn’t dance, grabbing my chest in fear and shame.
I was never meant to here. I wasn’t supposed to exist maybe.
Freya Kael, the orphan, a nobody. That’s all I’d ever been to the Pack. No family, no name, no power. Just a shadow on the cliff of their world, Striving hard to survive on scraps and silence. But tonight, the whole thing had changed. Tonight, I’d learned the truth—the cruel, beautiful, heartbroken truth.
Finnick Logan, the most feared Alpha of the Whiteclaw Pack, was my fated mate.
The affiliation had gnashed into place, the moment I’d seen him at the throng, his penetrating blue eyes locking onto mine across the flake. My chest had hardened, my breath catching as the perception hit me like a thunderbolt. He was mine, and I was his I'm sure of.
Or so I’d thought about us.
I slithered to a stop behind a gigantic oak tree. My weak back leaned against the jaggy husk, as I tried to control my breathing. My hands were trembling; I clenched them into fists. I had to keep calm. The pack was close, very close. I could feel the beating of their paws against the floor of the forest, and their growling were getting louder with every moving moment.
I shouldn’t have raced. I should have halted and faced them. But how could I? How could I face him after what he’d done to me?
Echos of Finnick’s voice was cold and cutting, piercing through my thoughts. “You?” he’d said, lip curling in revulsion.
Worse than any furry had been the words. I had positioned, frozen, as the pack laughed in unison, cruel and heartless jeers echoing in my ears. Finnick had turned his back on me, his broad shoulders stiffened with condensation. And I had felt the bond between us smash, like glass.
I would then run, but when a twig cracked to my left, I stopped, my breath catching in my throat, and I looked around the tree slowly, scanning the darkness, the only sound in the eerily silent woodland being the rustle of leaves in the breeze, but I could feel them—as if they were weighing me down—and I had to keep moving, because if I stayed here they would find me, and if they found me... I didn't want to think about what they might do.
My bare feet barely squeaking on the earth, I hushed away from the tree and ran farther into the forest. The only light I had to walk me through the grove was the moon's weak shine. My thoughts raced as I tried to make sense of what had occurred seconds ago. What made the bond chose me? Why did it choose him? Finnick was everything I wasn't: respected and powerful. I was nothing. An unidentifiable individual. An outlaw. However, the friendship was true. It couldn't. So, why did he turn me down? As I lurched, a harsh growl resounded through the air, and my foot became entangled with a root.
The collision knocked the air from my lungs, but I didn't have time to settle on it. I crawled to my woobling feet, my heart racing heavily as I turned to face the etymology of the sound. Two bright and glowing eyes leered back at me from the shadows, their golden tinge blazing like fire. My breath jerked as the wolf trampled into the moonlight, its huge form towering over me. Its intense was deep, inky black, and its lips were drawn back in a snar.
One more bone-chilling howl, came from the wolf outside, then disappeared into the darkness. I waited, breathing in little gasps, until I felt it was gone. My body shook from tiredness and anxiety as I then slink out of the crevice. But I felt something I hadn't felt in years as I stood there, alone in the moonlight. Ability. And with it came a single, horrible idea: what if I wasn't as weak as they assumed? The howls came back, nearer this time, and I knew I had to leave.
I turned and sprinted; the forest swallowed me whole as the wolves drew in. And there, deep in the darkness, I sensed the first flutter of something ancient waking up before me.
Kael's povThe elevator didn’t shudder like I expected.It moved smoothly, reverently like it was afraid of her.Numbers climbed along the panel, but the floors weren’t labeled. They hadn’t been, even back then. The Council didn’t believe in naming places where they erased people. Names made things harder to forget.Maia’s grip on my hand stayed firm, but I could feel the tremor in her fingers now that the doors were closed. Alone. Contained. Ascending.“This is where it happened,” she said softly.Not a question.I nodded. “The core’s three levels up. This shaft feeds straight into the neural wing.”She swallowed. I felt it through her hand, like an echo traveling up my arm and into my chest.“I remember the walls,” she murmured. “I don’t remember what they did to me inside them.”“That’s not an accident.”The lights inside the elevator shifted from warm to sterile white. Thin lines of text began to scroll across the mirrored surface of the doors, system diagnostics, authorization pi
Kael's povThe blackout didn’t last long.Emergency lights shuddered awake overhead, thin red strips lining the hallway like old scars. Ryn groaned beside me, clutching his ribs. Kieran checked the corners for exits. He always did that when he was afraid, and he was terrified now.Maia stood in front of the elevator panel, unreadable, her fingers curled into tight fists at her sides. She didn’t look back at us. She didn’t need to.The air felt wrong. Too thick. Like the building recognized her.“Maia,” I said, softer than I meant to. “Talk to us before the system wakes up fully.”She didn’t turn. “If I talk, I’ll second-guess it.”“And if you don’t?” Ryn asked. “You’ll walk straight into the data choke point without a tether.”“That’s the point,” she said.I felt something cold settle under my ribs. A familiar feeling. The kind I used to get back when we worked together in the city, long before any of this. Back when she’d walk into a meeting with Council executives and pretend she ha
Kael's povWe moved before the sun had fully risen, because dawn wasn’t safety. Dawn was surveillance. Dawn was when the city woke with the Council’s eyes wide open.Kieran slipped out first, checking blind corners and mapping heat signatures. Ryn followed, slower but steady, wincing every few steps. Maia waited until last, and I stayed behind her like gravity itself was pulling me in that direction.The air outside the safehouse was cold enough to bite, fog hanging low over the cracked pavement. Every sound felt too loud. Every shadow felt inhabited.None of it compared to the tension threading through the four of us.We moved in silence for three blocks before Maia finally spoke.“Kael,” she said without turning.“Yes.”“What Aeron said yesterday…” Her voice didn’t break. Maia never broke. But something softened—just around the edges. “About memories.”My chest tightened. “You think he remembers everything?”“No,” she said. “Not yet. But he remembers pieces. And pieces are dangerous
Kael's povThe city shifted around us after Aeron vanished.Not physically, no explosions but in that subtle, bone-deep way you feel when a predator leaves the clearing and the forest doesn’t quite trust the silence that follows.None of us spoke for several blocks.Maia walked ahead, jaw set, spine straight, like movement itself was the only thing keeping her from splintering. Kieran stayed close to the periphery, scanning, rerouting, erasing our wake as we went. Ryn limped between us, bleeding through a hastily wrapped sleeve, pride the only thing keeping him upright.And me?I was rewinding everything Aeron had said.You’d do it again.The worst part was how close that came to the truth.We reached a safehouse just before dawn, one I’d never logged, never tagged, never even shared with Kieran until now. An old administrative annex disguised as low-income housing, forgotten by upgrades and ignored by surveillance. I keyed the door manually and ushered them inside.Once the locks eng
Kael's povWe didn’t get far before the city reminded us who it belonged to.The fail corridor spat us out into a freight artery that should have been abandoned, should have been empty but nothing stayed empty once the Council decided you were worth hunting. Floodlights blazed to life overhead, washing the steel walls in white so harsh it made my eyes sting.“Down,” I ordered.Maia reacted instantly, pulling Ryn with her behind a cargo lift as rounds sparked off metal where our heads had been a second earlier. Kieran returned fire without hesitation, precise bursts meant to create space, not body counts.Ryn stumbled, breath ragged.He was worse off than he’d let on.Of course he was.“I can keep moving,” he rasped, trying to straighten.Maia didn’t look at him. She just tightened her grip on his arm and hauled him forward with grim efficiency.That cut deeper than if she’d yelled at him.We ran.Through screaming alarms and screaming systems, through corridors I’d helped design for c
Kael's povThe fail corridor smelled like dust and old electricity like something buried and forgotten on purpose.We moved fast and silent, boots barely scraping the concrete as emergency lights pulsed dim red overhead. This place hadn’t been used in years. That was my doing. I’d signed the decommission papers myself, buried beneath layers of budget denials and shifting priorities. The Council thought it obsolete.They never imagined I’d need it to break one of their own prisons open.Maia walked ahead of me now, weapon firm in her hand, posture sharp and lethal in a way that had nothing to do with training alone. Pain had refined her. Betrayal had burned away hesitation.She didn’t look back.That was worse than anger.Kieran brought up the rear, muttering updates under his breath, fingers dancing across his wrist console as he ghosted cameras and rerouted sensors. “Ryn’s being held in Sublevel Nine,” he said. “Interrogation wing. They’ve got him restrained but conscious.”Maia’s st







