LOGINAriaThe sun came up on a battlefield that I can't put a name to it yet.I was sitting on an overturned supply crate outside the medical tent with Caelum's head heavy on my shoulder. He'd fallen asleep halfway through a sentence about Grandma and a garden and a dog that could talk. His body was a furnace against the morning chill. His breath came slow and even. His hand was still twisted in my shirt like he was scared I'd vanish if he let go.So I didn't move. Barely breathed. Just sat there watching the camp wake up around me in that grey-gold light, trying to remember how to be a person again.Behind us, the lodge was still burning. I could smell it, that particular stench of old wood and older secrets going up in smoke. Every few minutes another chunk of roof would cave in with a groan that sounded almost human, and somebody would flinch. A few warriors had stopped to watch. Their faces were smeared with soot and blood. Their eyes were hollow. Nobody cheered. Nobody said anything.
AriaThe lodge was a nightmare made real.Smoke from the fire outside had seeped into the building, filling the air with a thick grey haze that made it hard to see, hard to breathe. Furniture overturned. Books trampled. Tapestries torn down. And everywhere, everywhere, there were bodies. Guards in Order black. Pack warriors in Crestwood colors. Tangled together in the final stillness of death.But I didn't stop. I couldn't stop.I ran toward my brother.Adrian stood in the center of the chaos, blood streaking his face, his silver eyes wild and bright. He was different than he had been at the fortress. The cold, controlled monster was gone. In his place was something raw and desperate and terrified.Something human.Aria!Remus's voice in my mind, through the mate bond I had tried so hard to ignore. His wolf was at my side, tearing through guards, clearing a path for me. I felt his fear. His fury. I could feel his desperate need to protect me.I didn't have time to respond.A figure mo
AdrianThe dark magic hit like a wall of ice.It tore through skin and muscle and bone. Reached for the core of me... that quiet place where my wolf slept, where my power had always lived, coiled and waiting. I knew Vivian's magic. I'd known it since I was just a boy. Since training sessions that were really punishments. Since lessons that were really lessons in how much pain a body could take before it broke.Her magic had always been particularly cruel. The way it crawled beneath the surface. The way it squeezed.But this time, something inside me pushed back.The Silverwood power... thirty years dormant, thirty years beaten and starved and tortured into silence, woke up. It rose through my chest like a geyser. Hot. Bright. And absolutely furious.The shadows Vivian had thrown shattered against it, dissolving into wisps of nothing. And then, because power once unleashed is never content to simply defend, the light rebounded.Vivian's scream split the air.She flew backward. Crashed
AriaWe moved before dawn.Warriors, shifting in and out of wolf form, carrying supplies and weapons. I walked among them, nodding at faces, touching shoulders, offering words of encouragement. They didn't need me to lead them. They didn't need me to fight. They just needed me to be there. To show them that I wasn't afraid.I was terrified.But they didn't need to know that.Marcus walked beside me. His face was set in hard lines, his hand on his sword, his eyes fixed on the path ahead. He looked like a man going to war.He was.Remus was at the front, the Alpha, the leader. He moved through the crowd of warriors like a wolf through his pack, checking on everyone, touching everyone, making sure they knew he was with them.I wished I could be that leader. I wished I could be that person. But I wasn't. I never had been.I was just a girl who ran. And now she was running toward something instead of away from it.That had to count for something.We marched for three hours. The sun rose ov
AriaThe tent felt smaller than it had any right to.Canvas walls pressed inward like a fist closing. Lantern light flickered across faces I knew too well, Remus, jaw tight, hands braced on the wooden table that held a map of the eastern mountains. Marcus, standing apart from the others, his back to us, his shoulders rigid. Jax in the corner, arm still in its sling, watching everything with sharp eyes. Two more warriors I trusted with my life, barely more than silhouettes in the shadows.And me. Sitting on a crate that still smelled of gunpowder, my hands folded in my lap like I was at a board meeting and not about to plan the death of a man who'd been family to half the people in this room."Say it again," Marcus said. His voice was quiet. Too quiet.Remus didn't flinch. "Raphael King. He's the Architect. He's been running the Order for decades. Vivian is his daughter."Marcus turned.I'd seen Marcus angry before. I'd seen him fight, seen him kill, seen him stand between me and death
RemusThe girl was young.That was the first thing I noticed when I walked into the storage bunker. She couldn't have been more than seventeen, maybe eighteen at most. Dirty, her hair matted with blood and sweat, her clothes torn. Her wolf was close to the surface, I could see it in the way her eyes kept flickering, in the tension in her shoulders, in the way she watched me like she was waiting for the first blow to fall.She was afraid.Not of me. Not of what I might do to her.Of what the Order would do to her if she talked.







