Michael’s POVI stood outside Elara’s room, staring at the door like it might attack me.This was stupid. I should turn around and walk away. Pretend like I was never here.But I couldn’t.Not after the way I treated her last night.Lora.The name echoed in my mind like a whisper and a war drum all at once.I exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of my neck.This was the right thing to do.I had to apologize.So, before my cowardice won, I raised my fist and knocked.Silence.Then, I knocked again, a little harder this time before I heard soft footsteps. A pause.The door creaked open.And there she was.Lora.Her dark eyes met mine, widening slightly before she schooled her features into something unreadable.“Michael.”Her voice was careful, controlled. Not cold, but not warm either.Not that I blamed her.“What are you doing here?” she asked , her voice cold. I hesitated for a moment before speaking. “Can I come in?” “Why?”My jaw tightened slightly. “I need to talk to you.”Why was
Lora’s POVMichael’s lips hovered just inches from mine, his breath warm against my skin. My heart pounded so hard I was sure he could hear it. The kiss we’d just shared had left me lightheaded, but it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough.I wanted more. I felt too hot in my clothes. I wanted the fire that had erupted inside me and managed to lit my mons quenched.It was only him that could do it.His hand cupped the side of my face, his thumb brushing over my cheek with a tenderness that made my chest ache. “Lora…” His voice was rough, uncertain, as if he was still trying to hold back.I didn’t want him to.I had spent too much time second-guessing, too much time wondering if he wanted me or if he saw me as a mistake. But there was no hesitation in the way he looked at me now. No doubt in the way his body leaned into mine, drawn by something stronger than logic, stronger than our backgrounds.So, I did what I’d wanted to do from the moment I realized he was mine. I closed the space betwe
Michael’s POVThe hallway was quiet, except for the faint drone of voices drifting from the lower levels of the packhouse.I ran a hand through my hair as I stepped out into the dimly lit hallway, my body still humming with the aftermath of what had just happened. Lora’s scent lingered on my skin, a reminder of the sacred moment we just spent together.I have officially marked her. Lora has a mate. And it was me.It took everything in me to steady my breathing, and to push back the powerful need to go back, and spend some more time with her. My wolf couldn't get enough of her. I could feel his annoyance about leaving my mate back there. As much as I wanted to follow my animal instincts, I couldn’t.Not now.Andrew was waiting. And he was sure to ask questions. I had left in the middle of a meeting with his mate.The memory seemed so distant now though it was just a few hours ago.I exhaled sharply, rolling my shoulders as I forced myself forward.I had a job to do. I wonder what ha
Elara's POVWithout so much as a knock, I pushed the door to my room open to fid Lora lying on my bed. She had a far away look on face that made me think of a deer, comfortable in its home.She looked soothed. But my bed? Not so much. It looked rumpled and in disarray. It seemed some good shit went down here.A blind man could easily tell even though she was clothed.“Well, well.” I began. “Someone looks happy.” I had already accosted Michael trying to get out him what he had been up to, but he was adamant.I didn't need him to tell me the obvious. It was all over him, as much as he tried to play it cool.“Why wouldn't I be?” Lora asked sitting up. “I just had the most fantastic time of my life.”Hmmm. That much was obvious. Taking a good look at her, I could see how flushed she looked. Gone was the pale look she had when I left her in a hurry this morning for the meeting with Andrew.Speaking of which, I was grateful Michael was too busy to interrupt the way Andrew tried to convin
Andrew’s POVAs Michael walked in, I couldn't help but be irritated with him. We were in a middle of meeting when he suddenly left without giving me any detailed information on where he was going.Not that I was complaining about what the few hours of alone time with my mate in the office led up to.At least it helped quell her fear a little and allowed her to agree to training with me. She was one hell of a nut to crack.Not long after she left, he knocked on my door as if he was waiting for her to leave. I was sitting behind my desk, when he let himself in. I considered him more of a friend than anything but he was still my beta and I felt the urge to rattle him a little. The moment he was inside, I pinned him with my best piercing gaze as I rested my elbows on the polished wood, my fingers loosely clasped together. The best fucking look of calm. Making sure my face didn't betray any emotions. I knew he felt uncomfortable when I got like this.A beat of silence stretched between
Andrew's POVIt's been a few hours since I gathered all the warriors in my pack to train. For the first time in a long while, I decided to conduct the training myself.The training grounds smelled of damp earth and sweat. The scent of adrenaline filled the air, thick with the preparation for a battle that was sure to come.Everyone seemed to be doing just fine. They soaked up my lessons like sponges in water except for one person.Elara.She seemed to struggle with everything that was thrown at her. Literally.“Are you sure, she will be fine?” Michael asked as we both watched struggling with a dummy that was used for training to substitute for actual people.I scowled. “She has to be fine. She is my mate.” I was already tired of seeing her howl in pain while shaking her hand vigoriously, whenever she threw a punch at the wooden dummy. She was a wolf for crying out loud. “You of all people should know I don't tolerate weakness. In any form.”When I convinced her to start training yeste
Andrew’s POVElara hit the ground hard, her body bouncing like a rag doll. Dust kicked up around her as she gasped for air, her arms trembling as she tried to push herself up. Her lip was split, blood trailing down her chin, but she didn’t cry out.She was stubborn, I’d give her that.Max stepped back, barely panting. He hadn’t even gone full force. I knew it. She knew it. And from the way the other warriors shifted on their feet, they knew it too.“Elara,” I said, my voice cold.She lifted her head, her green eyes flashing with raw emotions like Pain, frustration, and anger.Good.I crouched beside her, lowering my voice so only she could hear.“This is going to happen again,” I said. “Over and over. Until you get up and fight like you mean it.”Her fingers curled into fists. It's been about an hour since I paired her up with Max and the results were… tragic.“I am fighting,” she muttered.If that's what she calls fighting, I will be damned. It was like watching a lion toying with it
Elara’s POVThe battlefield stretched endlessly before me, filled with blood and torn bodies.Wolves lay scattered like rats, their fur matted with dark crimson, their eyes empty. Some faces I recognized instantly—Max, his throat ripped open. Lora, her chest caved in, like someone had stomped on it. Michael, his hand still reaching for her as he lay motionless.A sob built in my throat, but I couldn’t make a sound.Because at the center of it all, standing in the midst of the destruction, was Andrew.His chest rose and fell steadily, as if this massacre meant nothing. His clothes were soaked in blood, his hands still curled into claws. But it wasn’t just the destruction around him that sent ice through my veins.It was his eyes.Black. Bottomless. Wrong. Gone were the golden pupils.He turned his head, sensing me.And then he smiled.The world turned. A scream shattered the silence. Mine to be precise.And I fell.I hit the ground hard, my body shaking. The vision brought me back to r
Elara’s POVI spat blood into the dirt, wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, and glared up at the monster in the skin of a man I thought I knew. Elder Harrow.He looked down at me with calm cruelty, not a single hair out of place. His knuckles were smeared with my blood, his robes singed at the edges from the power I'd thrown at him earlier. But he was still standing—tall, smug, unshaken.“You disappoint me, girl,” he said smoothly, pacing in a small circle around where I lay. “All that fire, wasted on stubborn pride.”I pushed up on shaking arms, breath ragged, ribs burning like someone had lit a match under my skin. My legs trembled as I forced them beneath me, rising despite the scream in every muscle.“You were supposed to bring change,” Harrow continued. “Not rebellion.”“You were supposed to be dying in a rocking chair,” I snapped, teeth clenched, “not stabbing us in the back like a damn coward.”That earned me a vicious backhand. Stars exploded in my vision as I hit the st
Andrew’s POVPain ripped through my skull as I opened my eyes.It was like claws scraping the inside of my head, dragging through my thoughts. I blinked, chest heaving, lungs burning, and sat up fast. Too fast.My stomach flipped.“Elara.”Her name burst out of me like a gasp of air after drowning. I looked around, panic rising. The room was bright, too bright. Familiar, but wrong.Like I wasn't meant to be here.This wasn’t the last place I remembered. This wasn’t where I last saw her. I was bleeding on the ground when she came to my aid. But then I remembering moments I slipped in and out of consciousness.It was the infirmary. At the packhouse.What the hell—“Easy, Andrew.” A voice to my right.I turned. Greg.He stood by the door, arms crossed, jaw tight. His eyes were red-rimmed, but he wasn’t the kind of man who cried. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days.“What happened?” My voice cracked. “Where is she? Where’s Elara?”Greg didn’t speak right away. And that told me everyth
Elara’s POVI stared at the figure in the doorway, my breath snagging in my throat.Elder Harrow.He stepped into the cell with the kind of quiet confidence that didn’t belong in a man I’d always believed was half a breath away from death. His back wasn’t hunched. His steps didn’t drag. And the cane he used since the day I knew him, was nowhere in sight.My stomach twisted.I couldn’t speak for a second. Couldn’t move either. The chains still held my arms, but this revelation had me rooted deep in shock than any physical restraint ever could.He looked at me like I was a child who had disappointed him. “Elara,” he said. “You were always… too curious.”What was that supposed to be? All I've ever wanted was protect the pack from Dorian and his croonies.But it turns out that we always had enemies in the pack. How could I've known.No wonder it felt too suspicious when Andrew was recovering and this so called elders decided to take control.“You?” My voice cracked. “No. No, that’s not—”
Elara’s POVPain brought me back first. A dull, aching throb in the back of my head. My arms were numb. My mouth dry as sand. I tried to move, but metal bit into my wrists, cold and tight.Chains.Again.My eyes fluttered open, heavy with whatever they’d drugged me with. The room was dim—stone walls, a single torch flickering from a place near the door. Shadows danced across the floor. I was sitting against a wall, ankles bound too, arms chained above my head.Not the infirmary. Not home.I didn’t have to ask where I was. The stench of blood and damp earth was enough. Dorian’s stronghold. His dungeon, probably. How poetic.It was easy to notice where I was. I've been here on different occasions. But thinking about it felt like a lifetime ago.Footsteps echoed before I could gather my thoughts.I lifted my head. Slowly. Dorian’s shadow emerged from the dark corridor like something from a nightmare. Tall. Composed. That familiar smirk stretched across his face like he’d won the damn war
Michael’s POVWe moved fast.The second the sun started to rise, Lora and I were already past the east part, slipping past the border into the dense pine thickets beyond the territory lines. There were no patrols, or guards. Lora stayed a few steps behind me, light on her feet but tense. She hadn’t spoken much since Greg gave us the order to follow up on Mara and Rhea’s movements. I didn’t blame her. The silence between us was laced with suspicion neither of us wanted to say out loud yet.Mara and Rhea. Trusted pack members and protectors.Or so we thought.“They escaped during the fight” I muttered, glancing at the tracks in the dirt. “Didn’t say a word.”Lora grunted. “And stole the ancient relic. That’s what tipped Andrew off.”“Smart of him,” I said.“Too late,” she replied quietly.Yeah. It was. We were playing catch-up, and with Dorian breathing down our necks, every second mattered.We followed the trail for another mile before the forest gave way to an old hunting cabin. It l
Elara’s POVI knew something was wrong the second I stepped into the east wing.The air was too quiet. The silence too deep.I picked up my pace, boots tapping softly against the stone floor as I rounded the corner. The scent of blood hit me hard—sharp, coppery, unmistakable. My pulse spiked.“Andrew,” I whispered, and broke into a run.Then I saw him.Slumped against the wall. Blood smeared down his jaw, his shirt torn, one arm bent at a sick angle. Greg was kneeling beside him, pressing cloth to his ribs, while Michael stood nearby, sword still drawn, face pale and furious.“Gods,” I breathed, dropping to my knees beside him. “What happened?”“He was ambushed,” Greg said without looking at me. “Two attackers. One escaped. The other…” He jerked his head toward the body behind him. “Didn’t make it.”Andrew coughed, his eyes fluttering open as I gripped his hand.“Elara?” His voice was raw, barely a whisper.“I’m here,” I said. “You’re okay. Just breathe.”“You’re late,” he rasped, try
Andrew’s POVElara’s words echoed in my skull like a blade dragged across stone.“Maybe I’m already a traitor to them.”She hadn’t looked back when she said it. Just walked off into the cold air, leaving me frozen there like an idiot.I didn’t chase after her. Maybe I should have. But gods, I was too tired of chasing people and questions. We were all bleeding from wounds no one wanted to talk about.By the time I reached the main hall, Greg was already waiting for me with that same grim look he always wore these days. He handed me a letter unfolded.I scanned the contents fast. Border movement. Enemy signs. Dorian.I exhaled through my teeth. “How close?”Greg stepped back and let the tension crackle between us before answering. “Too close. We have scouts reporting unusual gatherings. Clusters of his soldiers shifting along the northern part. Tactically scattered, but coordinated.”“How many?” I asked.“Don’t know yet. But enough to stir up real fear. And we’re not exactly standing on
Elara’s POVThe forest was quiet.I didn’t move. Didn’t even blink. Kieran’s voice still lingered in the air like smoke, sweet and poisonous.He stood before me, filled with arrogance, wearing that half-smile like he owned the godsdamn moon. He was dangerous—that much hadn’t changed. But something in his eyes tonight was different. I didn’t like it.“You’re serious,” I said.“Deadly,” he replied. “And if you’re smart, you’ll stop wasting time and start fighting them.” He flicked his fingers toward the east. The council chambers. The heart of everything rotting in this pack.Andrew’s voice was low, controlled. “You think Elara’s going to join you after everything you’ve done?”Kieran didn’t even look at him. His eyes stayed on mine. “I think Elara’s smart enough to know the rules were written to break her.”I clenched my jaw.Michael was already moving. “Enough. You’re under arrest—step away from her now.”Greg followed with his sword drawn, boots crunching on the leaves. I didn't eve
Andrew’s POVI couldn’t sleep again. Not after that message.The relic belongs to me now.Dorian didn’t have to sign his name—we all knew who sent it. The words were enough. No other person knew about the relic we had in our possession. Elara hadn’t said a word since we returned. She sat at the edge of the firepit behind the west wing, where the grass still bore bloodstains from last night’s attack. She stared into the flame like she could will herself to burn, or maybe disappear into it.I stayed back at first. Watching. Thinking.Then I finally walked over, crouched beside her.“You don’t have to go.”She didn’t even look up. Just flicked her eyes toward the flame, lips pressed tight.“Elara,” I tried again, softer this time. “You don’t have to leave.”She turned slowly. There was something unreadable in her face—tired, proud, uncertain.“You saw what the council did,” she said quietly. “They made up their minds before I even walked in the room.”“I don’t care what they decided,”