OZONE and JASMINE

The walk back to the Silver Bane manor was silent, save for the crunch of snow underfoot. Rhea led the way, her mind racing. As an Alpha, she was trained to detect threats, but Elias didn't feel like a threat to her life—he felt like a threat to her order.

​When they reached the gates, Marcus was waiting with a dozen armed sentries. Their hackles rose the moment they caught Elias’s scent. It was powerful, ancient, and entirely unaffiliated with any known pack.

​"Alpha?" Marcus questioned, his hand on his sword.

​"He’s a guest. For now," Rhea said, her voice leaving no room for argument. "Take him to the Great Hall. I need to dress and meet with the elders."

​Elias caught her eye as he was led away. "Don't take too long, Rhea. The elders aren't the ones you should be worried about."

​In her private chambers, Rhea scrubbed the scent of him from her skin, but it seemed to have sunk into her pores. She pulled on a tunic of boiled leather and silver-thread embroidery—the uniform of her station. Her wolf was still restless, pacing the confines of her mind. Mate, the beast whispered. Strong. Ours.

​"He is a stranger," Rhea snapped at the air.

​She descended to the Great Hall, where the Council of Elders sat like withered ravens around a long oak table. At the center of the room stood Elias. He looked entirely unimpressed by the tapestries of past victories and the skulls of defeated rivals lining the walls.

​"Rhea," Elder Silas began, his voice thin. "You bring a rogue into our sanctuary? During the week of the Solstice? This is a breach of protocol."

​"He is not a rogue," Rhea said, taking her throne at the head of the table. "He is a messenger. Or so he claims. Elias, speak."

​Elias stepped forward, the torchlight dancing in his grey eyes. "The Southern Packs are mobilizing. They aren't coming to the Solstice to dance or to court your Alpha. They are coming to take this territory. They believe a female Alpha is a sign of weakness, and they have hired a mercenary force to strike while you are distracted by the gala."

​A murmur of outrage broke out among the elders. "Lies!" Silas shouted. "The South is fractured. They wouldn't dare."

​"They would if they had someone leading them," Elias said, his gaze fixed solely on Rhea. "Someone who knows your defenses. Someone who was once part of this pack."

​Rhea felt a chill that had nothing to do with the winter. "A traitor?"

​"A ghost," Elias corrected.

​Rhea looked at him, searching for the lie. Instead, she found a reflection of her own intensity. He wasn't just here to warn her; he was here to see if she was strong enough to survive what was coming.

​"Marcus," Rhea barked. "Double the patrols. Lock down the northern pass. And Elias—you stay with me. If this is a trap, you'll be the first to die."

​Elias smiled, that maddening, beautiful tilt of his lips. "I wouldn't have it any other way."