Chapter 4

Reya

Living in the guard wing of the Blackwood fortress is like living as a ghost. It’s been three days since Alpha Killian brought me here, and since then, he has kept his word. He has not checked on me once.

A quiet, elderly omega servant will bring me a tray with minimal rations to my room twice a day. Normally, the food was stale and cold, consisting of day-old bread, a bowl of thin, room-temperature broth, and dried meat. I know better than to complain; I eat everything I’m given to keep my strength up.

During the daylight hours, I sit by the small, drafty window and study the details of the fortress courtyard below. I watch the warriors train in the muddy snow for hours. They’re brutal, efficient, and deadly serious about their combat. There’s no laughter or showing off, as there was back at the Southern Valley. This pack has lived on the edge of survival, and it’s shown through every movement. 

Today seems even drearier when I stare out the window. The sky looks like a dark gray sheet looming over everything. As nighttime approaches, the temperature drops, and the snow blows hard as a blizzard blankets the mountain in thick white snow.

I wrap my thin blanket tightly around my body, trying to stop my teeth from chattering as I go to bed.

I wake up in the middle of the night with a violent jolt. Every instinct within me screams to move. The ancient magic within me isn’t humming its usual tune anymore; it’s throbbing violently, sending waves of ice-cold energy down my spine.

Something is horribly wrong inside the house.

A horrific shriek tears through the silence, and it’s followed by the heavy, wet sound of tearing flesh and the chaotic pounding of boots on the ground. 

A warrior screams a warning, “The lower eastern wall is breached! The rogues are inside!” 

His voice is cut short by a brutal grunt as he continues fighting. 

A heavy iron alarm rings frantically across the territory, but the danger is already outside my door. The main defense lines have collapsed, and Killian is out of reach, patrolling the outer borders of the pine forest.

I scramble out of my bed, my heart slamming against my ribs. I look around the dark room for a weapon, but there’s nothing except for the flimsy wooden chair. I don’t get the opportunity to grab it; the heavy oak door of my bedroom has exploded inward with a deafening crash, and splinters of wood fly everywhere.

A massive, feral rogue stands before me. He’s mid-shift, his jaw distorted into a muzzle with long, yellow fangs, and his bloodshot eyes are crazed. He’s covered in flesh and blood, and a nauseating rotting scent fills my room. 

His eyes lock onto me, a cruel, predatory grin stretching across his face. “Well, well, well, look what we have here. A little southern baby left all alone in the dark.”

I back away, my voice raspy as I say, “Get out of my room.”

My back presses against the freezing stone wall, and the rogue laughs at me. The sound is wet and guttural and makes my skin crawl. He shakes his head, taking a predatory step towards me as he growls out, “No way, princess. Your throat looks incredibly soft. " Let's see how much you bleed,” He takes a deep inhale, “How good you taste.”

His thigh muscles tense before he lunges across the room, his claws extended, his jaw wide open as he aims for my neck.

I’m cornered, defenseless, facing certain death. No one is here to help me.

The moment his shadow falls over me, a wave of raw, blinding survival panic rips through my body. The mental locks that I’ve used to keep my hidden power a secret for three long years have finally snapped.

I scream at the top of my lungs, “Get away from me!”

A violent explosion of raw energy erupts from my chest; it’s not light; it’s thick, suffocating darkness.

Thick, ink-black shadow tendrils explode from my skin like a swarm of vipers, ripping through the air with a terrifying hiss. The rogue’s claws couldn’t even touch the edge of my mattress; the solid black tendrils wrap around his neck, his arms, his jaw, keeping it pried open as it pins his body in the air. 

His eyes show pure panic and horror; he tries to growl, but the sound catches in his throat as the shadows pulse, draining the dominant alpha aura from his flesh. I can feel his strength flowing through the shadows and pouring into my core, making my power burn like a roaring fire.

Within just a few agonizing seconds, his body withers. His eyes roll back into his head, his muscles go limp, and his energy is extinguished.

The shadows release him, and his corpse collapses against the stone floor with a dull thud. 

I stand over him, my chest heaving as I gasp for air. My long hair billows wildly around my face, and my amber eyes glow like bright lanterns in the pitch darkness of the room. The ink-black tendrils of ancient magic bleed from my fingertips like smoke, swirling around my feet.

Heavy, frantic footsteps sprint down the corridor, accompanied by the squishing and splashing of blood. 

Alpha Killian Blackwood storms into my room, his twin-bladed battle axe raised high, prepared for the fight. His ice-blue eyes glow with a terrifying, animalistic fury. His chest is littered with claw wounds, and his face has splatters of blood scattered across it. He looks like a god of war, prepared to conquer the battle.

He steps over the shattered doorway, his eyes bouncing around as his body freezes. He looks down at the dead rogue lying at my feet, noticing the way the body has been drained of its life force. His eyes move over me before meeting my gaze. 

“What,” Killian whispers, his voice dropping to a low and dangerous frequency that makes the floor vibrate, “was that?”

I lean my back against the cold stone wall, crossing my arms over my chest as I hide the trembling of my hands. My usual, sarcastic smirk slides back into place on my face: “Just some quick pest control, Alpha Killian. Your northern guard wing leaves a lot to be desired in the security department.”

Killian doesn’t find this funny. He marches over the lifeless rogue, and his massive frame cuts off the moonlight from the window. He stops just an inch away from me, his heat radiating off his bare, blood-streaked chest. A suffocating wave of his warrior aura flares out, pressing tightly against my skin. “Do not play games with me, Reya. That was not normal wolf magic; that was ancient shadow manipulation. That’s a power that has been completely extinct for three hundred years. Who are you?”

My shadow magic pulses beneath my skin, devouring his dominant pressure as I continue to meet his eyes, refusing to cower, “I am the girl you called a plain, useless omega three days ago.”

His large hand reaches out and grips my shoulder. His eyes burn into mine. "Answer me. Are you a spy? Did your father send you here with a hidden coven to drain my pack from the inside out?"

"If my father knew I had this power, he would have locked me in a basement and used me as a weapon to conquer the Southern Valley years ago," I snap, knocking his hand away from my shoulder. "My family knows absolutely nothing. They think I am a defect because I can suppress alpha leadership traits. They treated me like an invisible helper and traded me away for cash because Bernice threw a temper tantrum. You want to know the truth? You are looking at it!"

Killian stares at me in silence, his eyes scanning every line on my face for a lie, but all he can find is my raw, bitter truth.

Slowly, the tension in his shoulders drops. A dark, intense smile spreads across his face, making him look dangerous.

"They actually threw away a legendary weapon just to keep a pretty white wolf," Killian murmurs, a low chuckle vibrating in his chest. "Your father is an absolute, brainless fool. He handed the North an apex predator."

"I am a person, Killian. Not a gun you can just point at your enemies," I warn him, my amber eyes flashing in anger. This is why I hid all these years; I don’t want to be used.

"In the North, you are both, or you are dead," Killian shoots back instantly, his face turning serious again. He looks toward the door as the sounds of fighting outside begin to die down. "The rogues knew exactly how to breach our lower eastern wall tonight. Someone on the inside leaked our patrol schedules. We have a traitor in the pack house, and a major border war is coming. I cannot leave an unknown variable like you down here in the guard wing where anyone can walk in."

"So what are you going to do with me? Put me in a deeper dungeon?" I ask sarcastically with a raised brow.

"No. You are moving," Killian commands, grabbing my small suitcase off the floor with one hand. He gestures for me to move out into the hall. "You are coming to the high tower suite in the main house. It is directly adjacent to my personal chambers, behind three sets of guarded iron doors. If you are going to be a secret, you are going to be my secret."

My heart skips a beat against my ribs, a strange, warm tension sparking between us as I walk past his large body. "I thought you had zero desire to play husband to a fraud?"

Killian follows me up the grand stone winding stairs, his heavy boots echoing loudly in the quiet stairwell. He stops at the top landing, right outside a pair of massive, beautifully carved wooden doors. He turns his head, his ice-blue eyes flashing with a sudden, addictive intensity that makes my skin tingle with a weird rush of heat.

"You are not a fraud, Reya," Killian whispers, leaning down slightly so his minty breath brushes against my ear. "You are a miracle. And tomorrow at dawn, you are meeting me in the deepest part of the pine forest. We are going to start private, brutal combat training, and I am going to see exactly what those beautiful shadows of yours can really do when they are unleashed.”