ZARA'S POV The howls grew louder, filling the night with a symphony of power and unity. My heart raced as I clutched the twins closer, the warmth of their small bodies grounding me in the chaos. Ryland shifted back to human form, his breathing labored, blood streaking his skin. He glanced at me, his eyes sharp with urgency. “They’re here.” I didn’t know if he meant it as reassurance or a warning. Before I could ask, wolves began emerging from the darkness—massive, powerful creatures with gleaming coats and eyes that burned with intelligence. They moved with a precision that spoke of discipline, their presence commanding and overwhelming. The largest of them stepped forward, shifting seamlessly into a tall, broad-shouldered man. His dark hair fell in loose waves around his face, and his piercing green eyes fixed on Ryland. “Alpha Ryland,” the man said, his deep voice resonating in the silence. “You’ve been busy.” Ryland straightened, his stance firm despite the obvious toll the
Chapter 10: Blood and Bonds ZARA'S POV The first rogue wolf burst into the clearing with a snarl, its eyes wild and unfocused. Logan’s pack moved like a single entity, intercepting it before it could get close. The sound of snapping jaws and tearing flesh filled the air, but I couldn’t look away from the chaos. Ryland stood in front of me, his body tense and ready. “Stay close,” he said without looking back. I nodded, clutching the twins so tightly they whimpered in protest. “It’s okay,” I whispered to them, though I wasn’t sure who I was trying to reassure. More rogues poured into the clearing, their sheer numbers overwhelming. Logan shifted mid-leap, his massive wolf form colliding with two rogues at once. His pack followed suit, their coordinated attacks keeping the rogues at bay. But the hunter wasn’t among them. I scanned the edges of the clearing, my heart sinking as I realized the truth. This wasn’t an attack—it was a distraction. “They’re after the twins,” I said, my v
RYLAND'S POV The forest air felt colder as the estate came into view, looming like a bad memory I’d spent years trying to forget. The stone walls seemed taller, darker, and more suffocating than I remembered. Each step I took toward it felt like I was stepping into a trap of my own making, dragging Zara and the kids with me. I glanced at her walking beside me. Zara’s face was set with determination, but I could see the worry flickering in her eyes. Her grip on the twins’ hands tightened every time the estate grew clearer in the distance. She was trying to be brave—for them, for us—but I hated that she had to. “This is it?” she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper. I nodded, swallowing hard. My throat felt dry, and my stomach churned. “That’s his territory.” The silence between us stretched long and thin as we crossed into the boundary. Memories of this place clawed their way out of the corners of my mind—cold, harsh training sessions under my father’s unrelenting gaze,
Ryland Pov I stood at the threshold of the manor, the sharp scent of pine mingling with the faint metallic tang of snow in the air. It was colder than I remembered, colder than it had any right to be. Marcus had always liked it this way, the chill keeping his domain quiet, calculated, unyielding. Beside me, Zara's stance was rigid, her jaw tight. The twins huddled close, their small hands gripping the fabric of her coat. They were oblivious to the tension thrumming between us and the door about to open. When it did, Marcus’s figure loomed in the entryway, silhouetted against the warm, golden light inside. He was dressed in black, of course—his signature uniform. Everything about him, from the sharpness of his gaze to the straightness of his posture, radiated control. I hated it. "Ryland," Marcus said smoothly, his lips curling into something that might pass as a smile but felt more like a warning. "Welcome home." Home. The word hit me like a slap, sharp and undeserved. Zara did
Ryland Pov The manor felt heavier by morning, like the weight of the past had soaked into the walls overnight. The air was damp with unspoken truths, and I woke with the familiar tightness in my chest. Marcus’s voice lingered in my dreams, his words twisting into something darker, accusing. I shook the memories off as I dressed, glancing over my shoulder at Zara. She was still asleep, her face softened in a way I rarely got to see. The sharp edges of her usual resolve dulled in sleep, leaving her looking almost fragile. The twins were already up when I stepped into the hall. I found them sitting on the grand staircase, their small voices echoing in the vast space. They were playing some game, their laughter a bright thread cutting through the gloom. “Morning,” I said, and they both looked up at me, their faces lighting up. “Ryland!” Jamie jumped to his feet and bounded over to me. “Did you see the dining room? It’s huge!” I smiled despite myself. “I’ll bet. Did you eat ye
Ryland Pov The moonlight filtered through the frosted glass, casting fractured shadows on the floor. I stood in the hallway, staring at nothing, lost in the whirling chaos of my thoughts. Every word Marcus had spoken played on a relentless loop in my mind. His voice was sharp, cutting through my defenses like a blade. “Vulnerability gets people killed.” I hated him for saying it. I hated him even more for being right. The thought clawed at me as I leaned against the cold wall, my breath fogging the air. For years, I’d kept my distance from people—kept my world small, closed, impenetrable. Then Zara and the twins crashed into my life, upending every wall I’d built, and now I stood on the edge of something dangerous. I could lose them. The thought was suffocating, a weight pressing against my chest until I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t hear Zara approach until her hand touched my shoulder. I flinched, my body jerking away instinctively before I registered it was her. H
(Ryland's POV) The morning sun was weak, struggling to push through the gray haze that hung in the air. I stood at the edge of the clearing, boots half-sunken in damp earth, staring at the smoldering wreckage of what used to be a barn. Smoke curled up into the sky, tendrils of ash carried by the breeze. It wasn’t our barn. Not yet. It was supposed to be a stop—a place to regroup, to plan, to rest. Instead, we arrived too late, the ground still warm from the fire, the air thick with the smell of charred wood. Zara stood a few feet away, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her face was blank, but I could see the tension in her shoulders, the way her fingers twitched like she wanted to do something—anything—but couldn’t. “I should’ve seen this coming,” I said, breaking the silence. My voice felt raw, like it scraped against my throat. “No one could’ve,” Zara replied, but there was no conviction in her tone. She glanced at me, her eyes heavy with something unspoken. I turned a
(Ryland's POV) The forest stretched before us, dense and suffocating, the fog curling around the trees like ghostly fingers. Every step felt heavier than the last, the damp earth pulling at my boots as if trying to swallow me whole. The smell of smoke still clung to my clothes, a sharp reminder of what we had left behind. We moved in silence. Even Marcus, who usually had something snarky to say, kept his mouth shut. He walked a few steps ahead, his rifle slung low, eyes constantly scanning the trees. Leah and Sam followed closely behind, their footsteps careful, their shoulders hunched like they were expecting something to jump out at any moment. Zara walked beside me, her expression unreadable. She hadn't said much since we left the burned-out barn. I wanted to ask her what she was thinking, but the words never made it past my lips. The fog thickened as we pressed forward. The further we walked, the harder it became to tell which direction we were going. The trees blurred togeth
ZARA’S POV The scent of pine and blood still clings to the air, even after the rogues’ bodies have been dragged away. I stand at the edge of the clearing, watching as Ryland barks orders to the warriors. The surrendered rogues kneel in a ragged line, their heads bowed, their eyes flickering with a mix of fear and defiance. Silas and Selene hover near me, their hands clasped tightly in mine. “They’re scared,” Silas whispers, his golden eyes fixed on the prisoners. “Their wolves… they’re sad.” Selene nods, her silver gaze distant. “The moon lady says they can change. If we let them.” I squeeze their hands, my throat tight. *Trusting them feels like handing a knife to a shadow.* But the twins’ instincts have never led us astray—not yet. Ryland strides over, his gray eyes stormy. “We need to decide their fate. Now.” I glance at the twins. “What do you think?” Silas steps forward, his small chin lifted. “They’re lonely. They need a pack.” Selene tugs my sleeve. “But we have
ZARA’S POV The forest is too quiet. Even the crickets have gone silent, as though the earth itself is holding its breath. Moonlight filters through the trees, casting skeletal shadows over the clearing where Ryland and I stand shoulder to shoulder, our wolves taut with anticipation. Silas and Selene hover behind us, their small hands clasped together, their powers a faint hum beneath their skin. “They’re close,” Ryland murmurs, his claws unsheathed. His gray eyes scan the treeline, sharp and unflinching. I nod, my throat tight. The air reeks of pine and iron—*blood*. Zane’s allies have been circling the territory for days, their howls echoing like taunts in the dark. Tonight, they’ll make their move. Selene tugs my sleeve, her silver eyes glowing. “The moon lady says… it’s time.” Before I can respond, a guttural snarl rips through the silence. A dozen wolves burst from the shadows, their eyes feral, their teeth bared. At their helm strides a hulking figure—Kael, Zane’s lieut
ZARA’S POV The morning sun filters through the trees, casting dappled light over the training grounds. The air is crisp, carrying the faint scent of pine and earth. I stand at the edge of the clearing, watching as Ryland adjusts the small dagger strapped to Silas’s belt. Our son’s face is a mix of excitement and nervousness, his golden eyes wide as he looks up at his father. “Do I really need this?” Silas asks, his voice trembling slightly. Ryland crouches to his level, his tone firm but gentle. “You’re a future Alpha, Silas. You need to be ready.” “But I’m just a kid,” Silas protests, his small hands fidgeting with the dagger’s hilt. “You’re more than that,” Ryland says, his gray eyes softening. “You’re Solara. And that means you have a responsibility to protect the pack.” Selene skips over, her silver eyes glowing faintly. “The moon lady says I’ll be *queen* one day.” Ryland chuckles, ruffling her hair. “And you’ll be the best queen this pack has ever seen.” I step f
ZARA’S POV The packhouse is alive with noise—clattering dishes, murmured conversations, and the occasional burst of laughter. It’s a sound I haven’t heard in years, not since before the elders’ betrayal. The air smells of roasted meat and fresh bread, a stark contrast to the metallic tang of blood that lingered just days ago. I stand at the head of the long dining table, my fingers tracing the intricate carvings on the back of Ryland’s chair. The twins are seated nearby, Silas shoveling food into his mouth with the enthusiasm of a starving wolf, while Selene picks at her plate, her silver eyes darting around the room. “They’re watching us,” she whispers, tugging at my sleeve. I follow her gaze to a group of warriors huddled near the fireplace. Their eyes flicker to me, then away, their expressions unreadable. “Let them watch,” I say, forcing a smile. “They’re just curious.” “Curious or suspicious?” Ryland’s voice is low as he steps up beside me, his hand brushing mine. I
*ZARA’S POV* The Moonwell glows faintly in the predawn light, its waters rippling as if stirred by an unseen hand. The grove is silent now, the echoes of battle replaced by the soft rustle of leaves and the occasional chirp of waking birds. My body aches, every muscle protesting as I kneel beside the well, my fingers trailing through the cool, silvery water. “She’s here,” Selene whispers, her voice carrying an otherworldly echo. She stands beside me, her tiny hand gripping mine, her eyes glowing faintly with the same light that dances on the water’s surface. “Who’s here, baby?” I ask, though I already know the answer. “The moon lady,” she says simply, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. Behind us, Ryland shifts uneasily, his arms crossed over his chest. Silas leans against him, half-asleep, his golden aura flickering weakly. The battle took its toll on all of us, but the twins bore the brunt of it. Their powers, still raw and untamed, drained them in ways I can’t
ZARA’S POV* The forest is eerily silent, as if even the trees are holding their breath. Moonlight spills through the canopy, casting jagged shadows over the sacred grove where the elders once communed with the Goddess. Now, it reeks of betrayal. My claws dig into the damp earth as I crouch behind a moss-covered boulder, Silas and Selene pressed close to my sides. Their rapid breaths fog the air, their small bodies trembling not from fear—though Goddess knows they should be—but from the raw power humming beneath their skin. “Mommy,” Silas whispers, his golden eyes glowing faintly in the dark. “The bad man’s here.” “I know, baby,” I murmur, smoothing his wild curls. My wolf paces inside me, her snarls a silent echo of my rage. *Zane*. Ryland materializes beside us, his broad frame tense, blood streaking his jaw from a earlier skirmish with rogues. His gray eyes lock onto mine, stormy and unyielding. “The pack is in position. We move on your signal.” I nod, but Selene tugs my s
Ryland The dawn breaks cold and brittle, the sky streaked with ash from the smoldering ruins of the elders’ fortress. You stand at the edge of the Bloodfang clearing, the dagger’s weight heavy on your hip, its silver flames dormant but pulsing like a second heartbeat. Around you, the pack moves in exhausted silence—warriors binding wounds, mothers hushing whimpers, children clutching charred toys salvaged from the rubble. The air tastes of iron and regret. Kael approaches, his bravado tempered by a newfound deference. He bows his head, a gesture that still feels foreign. “The scouts report no sign of the elders’ remnants. Only crows picking at the dead.” You nod, your gaze lingering on the forest’s jagged treeline. “Double the patrols. They’ll regroup.” He hesitates. “You sound certain.” “The shadow wasn’t the end,” you say, echoing Selene’s warning. “It was a beginning.” His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t argue. For the first time, his loyalty feels earned, not forced. --
Ryland The air reeks of smoke and blood, the aftermath of battle clinging to your skin like a second shadow. Around you, the pack tends to the wounded, their murmurs a low hum of exhaustion and fear. The twins huddle at your side, their small hands gripping your torn sleeves, their glow dimmed but unbroken. Ryland stands a few paces away, his back to you, shoulders taut as he surveys the smoldering ruins of the elders’ fortress. The dagger at your hip pulses faintly, its silver flames a ghostly echo of the covenant’s power. “They’re regrouping,” Ryland says, voice gravelly. He doesn’t turn, but you feel his gaze like a physical touch. “The elders won’t stop.” You tighten your grip on Silas and Selene. “Then we finish this.” He finally faces you, his gray eyes haunted. “It’s not that simple. The shadow they summoned—it’s not just a weapon. It’s *alive*. And it’s hungry.” Selene whimpers, her silver eyes widening. “The moon lady says… *it’s coming*.” As if summoned, the grou
Ryland Pov The Grove hums with renewed life, its ancient trees swaying as if in gratitude. The twins sit at the base of the Heart’s pedestal, their hands pressed to the stone, their glow merging with the moonlight. You watch them, the dagger’s weight heavy at your hip, its silver flames a constant reminder of the bond you’ve reforged. Ryland stands beside you, his gaze fixed on the pack as they gather at the clearing’s edge. “They’re scared,” he murmurs. “Good,” you say, your voice sharp. “Fear keeps them alive.” He glances at you, his gray eyes softening. “And what keeps you alive?” You don’t answer. Selene’s voice breaks the silence, her tone distant, ethereal. “The moon lady says… *the shadow grows*.” You crouch beside her, brushing her hair back. “What shadow, baby?” She blinks, her silver eyes clearing. “The bad wolves. They’re coming.” Silas nods, his golden glow flickering. “Lots of them.” Ryland’s jaw tightens. “How many?” “Too many,” Silas whispers. Th