Chapter 5

Kassian’s POV

“Alpha.” The voice of my beta, Brian, cuts through the quiet like a blade, and I tense, realizing I didn’t even hear him approach. I need to get myself back together.

“Brian, mate,” I say, forcing calm into my tone, “what do you have for me?”

His sigh is heavy, thick with the kind of news I’ve grown to dread. “Not good news, Alpha. Höherstehend Pack has hired vampires as reinforcements.”

I inhale sharply, the familiar burn of anger spreading through my chest. Vampires are rare now, with no king, no council, and no real power since the apocalypse. They fight as mercenaries, desperate to survive, their venom stripped, unable to turn others. Vampires these days are shadows of what they were, but they still fight with a ferocity that makes them deadly allies.

“Vampires? To eliminate me?”

“Most likely, but for now, they’re bodyguards.” Brian’s voice is steady, but I can feel the tension beneath his words.

I tilt my head, cracking my neck with the familiar roll of bone against sinew. “Then we need to level the field. How close are we to contacting Eldarion? We need him and his White Elves.” The White Elves have power we lack—a power that Höherstehend can’t match.

Brian sighs, frustration slipping into his expression. “It’s not easy to reach the White Elves, Alpha, but your mother has been working with one of her old witch allies. Together, they may be able to find him.”

I flinch slightly at the mention of “mother.” He’s not talking about my biological mother but my father’s second wife, a witch he brought home a year after my mother’s death. I was only seven, but even then, I understood what her presence meant.

Mates are rare—my parents being chosen mate—, and after my mother died, my father took on a new mate far too quickly. He returned with a witch and her two daughters in tow, and everyone knew he’d been cheating on my mother long before she died. I don’t blame the daughters—they were as young and innocent as I was—but I blame my father and the woman who became my stepmother. She’s been useful over the years, her witchcraft providing power and protection to our pack, but it doesn’t erase the past.

“As soon as there’s a lead, tell me. Where’s Lucian?” I ask, shifting the subject back to the matter at hand.

“Narisa came down with a fever, so he stayed with her at the hospital,” Brian replies.

I nod, considering my options. “For now, tighten the perimeter, add more guards at the boulders. And have Vivian reinforce the barrier—she’ll need to know about the vampires if she doesn’t already.” Brian shakes his head, indicating Vivian’s still in the dark. “Tell her, then. And she’ll need to combine her magic with Narisa’s.”

“Yes, Alpha.” Brian bows, his gaze flicking to me, then quickly shifting away as if he’s afraid of what he might see. I can feel it, the way my wolf’s energy radiates from me, the tension that coils around everyone near me. Brian’s been avoiding eye contact since he entered, as if Fenrir’s presence is a physical weight pressing on him.

Everyone says they can feel my alpha aura, even when I feel nothing. For years, I thought Fenrir was dead, a ghost in my mind. But now he’s back, and his energy crackles around me like lightning.

I need to shift.

Without another word, I head outside, my steps quick and unyielding. Pack members step aside as I pass, bowing slightly, muttering greetings that I ignore. I know the power I’m exuding is unsettling, enough to make them uneasy, but I don’t care. If I don’t let Fenrir run, he’ll do something reckless—something like going after her.

‘I won’t, I know better,’ Fenrir grumbles, his voice a deep rumble in my mind.

‘Pardon me if I don’t trust a dog,’ I snap back.

‘That’s your problem, not mine,’ he growls, but his irritation fades as we reach the edge of the forest.

Once I’m out of sight, I let the shift take over. Pain rips through me as bones break, muscles twist, and my skin reshapes. It’s been years since I last shifted, and the agony is more intense than I remember, searing through me. But I don’t flinch; I’ve survived worse. I know pain too well.

When the shift is complete, my senses sharpen, opening to a world of heightened clarity. Every scent, every sound crashes into my mind. The wind carries traces of pine, damp earth, the faint musk of prey, and the distant scents of my pack. As Fenrir, I bound forward, each muscle pushing us faster through the dense undergrowth, his powerful limbs cutting through the trees.

The guards stationed at the boulders come into view far off in the distance, farther than any wolf should be able to see. I’m not just picking up their shadows—I see their faces, their uniforms, even the colors of their skin from a distance that should be impossible. It’s as though my vision is slicing through the air itself, clear and focused, cutting through space.

Then, as I blink, an image flashes in my mind—a woman, faceless yet smiling, looking down at me with a warmth that feels too real. The image vanishes as quickly as it came, leaving a strange ache in my chest, like a half-remembered dream.

“What in the world…” I murmur aloud, but Fenrir only shakes his head, choosing to ignore it, pushing us forward. But then I feel it—the presence of another wolf running with us, just out of reach.

I turn, and there, just to the side, is a wolf—pale, ghostly, almost translucent. My heart skips as I recognize the familiar white-tipped ears and soft gray coat. We skid to a halt, shock slamming into me, my mind reeling.

It’s Rowan’s wolf. A spirit, yet as real as the day I last saw him. My twin. I remember the day he made his first shift, how I ran alongside him, guiding him, training him. I blink, and he’s gone, but the image is burned into my mind.

‘No.’ My mind races, grasping at the vision, but Fenrir only stares ahead, his head high, a low growl humming in his chest.

“Rowan,” I whisper, tasting the name like ash. I don’t know what it means, why he appeared, or what he wants, but I know this: his presence isn't normal.