Elara’s POVFor one long moment, I just stood, my breath coming in long, controlled exhales as I stared at the space where Andrew, Dorian, and Mira had barely left.I shut the door behind them, leaving me in the kind of silence that made me uncomfortable especially after the conversation that just went on. What unfinished business could Dorian possibly have with Andrew?My mind replayed every interaction we’d had, searching for any sign, any hints I might have missed while everything was going on. Dorian had always been calculative, always playing a game only he knew the rules to. I didn’t doubt for a second that whatever he wanted had nothing to do with goodwill.Knowing who he is, he has an ulterior motive. There has never been any love lost between. Everything is just a game.I ran a hand down my face, pressing my fingers against my temple, suddenly feeling weary from everything.It is too early in the morning for this.Sighing, I walked toward the window, pulling apart the thick
Andrew's POVAs we trudged across the woods, I couldn't help but spear Dorian a quick glance. His expression was unreadable, his movements relaxed, but I wasn’t fooled. Dorian never did anything without a reason, and the fact that he was here, walking beside me as if we were allies, set my nerves on edge.What unfinished business do we have to discuss?The question burned in my mind, but I kept my silence. Instead, I focused on the rhythmic crunch of leaves beneath our boots, the distant sounds of warriors sparring in the training grounds ahead.I couldn't wait to get to the bottom of this.Dorian finally broke the silence. "Your pack must be excelling," he mused, his gaze flickering toward the field where my gammas and warriors were engaged in serious combat drills. "The intensity in their training is… impressive."I didn't bother looking in his direction. "Yes. They are well-trained. But I doubt this level of training is on par with what you subject your own pack to."Word of how he
Elara’s POVI rushed forward, my pulse pounding in my ears, but before I could get any closer, two warriors stepped into my path.What do they want this time?I didn't have the time to start interacting with them. I had Andrew to catch up to and I knew if I didn't get to him in time, I would miss out on whatever Dorian had to tell him.They stood tall, their bodies rigid, blocking my way like a pair of immovable guards. Their expressions were unreadable, but the tension in their stance was clear.I could already smell the sweat they worked up while training with the other warriors. And I was already tired of inhaling it as I wrinkled my nose at them.I narrowed my eyes. They obviously had an issue with me. I really don’t have time for this."Move," I said, my voice firm and clear. I didn't want to get involved with them but if they tried to stop me…The warriors didn’t budge. One of them, a broad-shouldered man with a scar running down his jaw, crossed his arms. His companion, taller
Andrew’s POVThe moment I stepped outside, a sight that made me go blind with rage met my eyes.Elara was on the ground, dirt smeared across her cheek, her lip split, blood trickling down her chin. She didn’t cower, didn’t beg, she just glared up at those who put her in that situation, fury burning behind her eyes.I had already seen what was going on from my office at the top but seeing up close made my blood boil.Max and Tom stood over her, smug and laughing, their fists still clenched from the blows they had landed.My vision went even darker.“What’s going on here?” I asked, my voice slicing through the air like a knife.The laughter died instantly. The gathered warriors stiffened. Even the ones who hadn’t taken part in the attack looked uneasy now.My Scar-jawwed pack member, Max hesitated before stepping forward, clearing his throat. “Alpha, we were just—”The other one, Tom, whose eyes were unnaturally dark smirked, cutting in. “Teaching her a lesson.”A lesson.I felt my hand
Elara’s POVI stood frozen for a moment, watching Andrew disappear into the building with Dorian, Mira, and Michael. His broad shoulders radiated the authority of an Alpha, yet his departure left a hollow space in my chest that I couldn’t ignore.The pack lingered briefly, murmuring amongst themselves. Some looked at me with pity, others with disdain. I didn’t care to what their expressions really was. Max and Tom, still crouched on the ground nursing their injuries, shot me dark glares before dragging themselves to their feet and limping away.I thought they would say something else to me. They knew better.Cowards. That's what they were.When the rest of the pack finally began dispersing, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. My muscles ached as I straightened, the sharp sting in my ribs and the dull ache of my split lip served as a harsh reminder of the ordeal I've been put through.With a deep breath, I turned toward the packhouse. Each step felt heavier than the las
Elara's POVThe silence that followed was heavy, and loud. Lora’s shoulders sagged, and she looked at me as if she didn’t recognize the person towering over her.“I just… I don’t want to see you hurt again.”Her words were soothing and annoying at the same time but I was tired of her trying to look out for me like I was some helpless kid.That's Lora for you. Always trying to look out for me but right now, it was the least of my concerns.I sighed, trying to rein in my anger. I was tired of talking. “I know, Lora. I know you mean well. But I can’t keep hiding. If I do, they’ll win. And I won’t give them that satisfaction.”She opened her mouth to respond, but I cut her off with a raise of my hand. “No matter how you feel, it doesn't matter if you want me protected from hurt, I will always get hurt.”And that was the truth of the whole matter. She doesn't know how I so much want to protect myself from all the hurt in the world, but that's impossible.“That's a wrong notion and you know
Elara’s POVThe sun was dipping low, casting long shadows across the packhouse as I stepped outside. The air was cool and filled with the earthy scent of the woods. My heart raced as I moved quickly down the stone path, my boots crunching against the gravel.I didn’t bother looking over my shoulder as I had no time to waste. Every step away from the packhouse made my heart beat faster as I set the plan swirling in my mind into motion.As I walked deeper into the woods, it shrouded me in semi-darkness, the tall trees blocking the last rays of sunlight. My fingers brushed the rough bark of a tree as I leaned against it, to take a deep breath and check if I was being followed. I needed to hurry before anyone sees me. What I needed can only be found in the northern borders of the pack.The northern borders weren’t far, but I couldn’t afford to be seen. My movements were fast and sure, rushing between trees, while making sure my steps were quiet.Every snap of a branch or rustle of leaves
Andrew’s POVThe tension in my office was almost a tangible thing, thanks to the presence of another Alpha. Dorian reclined in one of the leather chairs opposite my desk, his posture casual, but his eyes were anything but amused. Mira sat next to him, her legs crossed and her smirk sharp enough, it rubbed me off the wrong way. Behind me, Michael stood like a guard, his arms folded across his chest.The confrontation outside had left a bitter taste in my mouth. My wolves disobeyed me, Elara took a beating and probably hates me—though it’s the least of my concerns. Now, I had to deal with Dorian's smug face in my territory.I didn’t bother with pleasantries. “What’s so urgent that you had to discuss it in private?”Dorian’s smirk widened as if he’d been waiting for me to ask. “Ah, straight to the point. I like that about you, Andrew.”I didn’t respond. My patience was already at its last stretch.“Well,” he drawled, leaning forward, “some weeks ago, you came to my pack and... let’s say,
Michael’s POVThe sound of Andrew’s growl ripped through the cabin like a blade.I shoved the door fully open and charged in, heart thundering. Elara was pressed against the wall, hands up, her eyes wide—not with fear, but with something worse. Desperation. She wasn’t running.Andrew stood in the middle of the room, half-shifted, his shoulders hunched and trembling, eyes glowing that same cursed red. He let out another guttural snarl and lunged again.Greg tackled him before he reached her.They hit the floor hard. Bones crunched, snarls erupted, and for a moment it was a disaster. I grabbed Elara and yanked her out of the way just before Andrew’s claws slashed the wall where she’d been.“Are you insane?” I barked at her. “He’s not himself!”“I know that!” she shouted, struggling against me. “But I saw him—Michael, he looked at me. He knew me for a second.”I held her tighter. “And the next second, he nearly ripped you apart.”“He wouldn’t—”“He did.”Greg grunted from the floor, stil
Elara’s POVI didn’t sleep. Not even for a second.Andrew lay on the cot, drenched in sweat, the veins along his neck pulsing black like ink trapped under skin. His breathing was shallow, ragged, the kind that made my heart skip every time there was a pause between inhales.Every few minutes, he let out a soft groan, like the pain was crawling through him in waves. I held his hand and tried to stay calm, but my grip trembled. I felt useless. Like watching someone drown while your legs were tied to the shore.The fire crackled, low and weak. It was still dark out, and the cabin smelled of blood, herbs, and unease.Lora had done what she could, but even she looked helpless when she stepped away. I kept asking what else could be done, and each time she avoided my eyes.Then Greg came back.He stood in the doorway, dripping with sweat from running, his jaw clenched like it was holding back a something.“What is it?” I asked.He didn’t answer right away. He looked past me, to Andrew. Then
Elara’s POVBranches clawed at my arms as we pushed through the forest, the moonlight barely cutting through the thick canopy overhead. My lungs burned. Every breath tasted like smoke and blood.Andrew’s weight leaned heavier and heavier against me, his steps sluggish, and uneven. He hadn’t spoken in minutes. I could feel the fever radiating off him.“Just a little further,” I whispered, mostly to myself. “Come on, stay with me.”It was crazy how our positions switched. The main reason why he was caught in this mess is to help me. Now, I was the one doing the helping.Luckily that stupid beast left after doing it's work leaving me with a very sick Andrew. I didn't know how far Michael and Lora had to go in order to get help.Noticing he hadn’t responded, I looked down as his grip on me loosened.“Andrew?” I stopped and turned, my heart hammering. “Hey. Look at me.”He swayed. His eyes blinked, unfocused. Then he crumpled.“No—no, no, no.” I dropped with him, catching his head before i
Andrew’s POVI didn’t think anything could shake me after everything we’d been through—Elara’s capture, the cult, the blade meant for my heart. But the thing crawling out of that seal wasn’t from this world.It was born from nightmares. A monster made of shadows and dark moon magic.It stretched as it rose, black tendrils spilling off its limbs like smoke, jaws clicking with bone and fangs. Its eyes locked onto us, glowing red-hot—rage, hunger, purpose.It was like it had a personal issue to settle with us.“Elara,” I said, backing up slowly, “we need to move.”She didn’t answer. She looked dazed, one hand clutching her chest like it hurt to breathe.“Elara,” I tried again, louder this time.She blinked hard, snapped back, and turned to me. “I can’t feel it.”“What?”“The bond. It’s gone.” Her voice cracked. “I—I think Jacob finished the ritual.”Shit. That explained the weakness in her posture, the pale cast to her skin. We didn't have time. The last thing I want is to be caught in t
Andrew’s POVElara didn’t stab me.Despite my unwavering trust in her, I could've sworn she wanted to gut me with the knife.She stabbed the cultist to my left—clean through the ribs.The robed bastard choked on his own breath, eyes wide, blood pooling from his mouth as he collapsed.And just like that, everything just seemed to go to shit as commotion broke out around us.Screams rang out in the still air. Chants siezed as every head turned and eyes snapped open towards our direction.Someone shouted, “She’s turned!”I didn’t need more time to think. My chains were half-broken the moment they stopped chanting. It seemed like they were using magic to contain me. The pulse in my chest hadn’t stopped. It was like a second heartbeat, wild and growing louder in my ear.I wrenched my right arm free with a roar, ignoring the tear of metal against skin. The pain meant nothing anymore. The moment Elara turned that blade, I knew—we were going to live or die together.“Elara!” I shouted.She s
Elara’s POVThe blade felt colder than it should have.Slick handle. Sharp edge.They’d placed it in my hand like it belonged there. Like I’d been born to wield it.My fingers closed around it on instinct, but my heart—fates, my heart refused. It pounded hard enough I thought it might split open my chest.Andrew’s eyes locked on mine, blood dripping down the curve of his jaw. He didn’t speak. Didn’t beg. Just looked at me, like he always had—steady, unflinching, and maddeningly full of love.Kieran stood behind him, watching like a predator admiring his own trap as Jacob came around to stand beside him.“This is the moment,” Jacob said, his voice low and coaxing. “Where the universe balances itself. You break the anchor, Elara, and disaster becomes your throne. You hesitate… and it becomes your grave.”I stared at Andrew. His breathing was shallow. His shirt clung to his chest, soaked in sweat and blood. And his mark—it pulsed like it had a heartbeat of its own through his torn shirt.
Andrew’s POVThe chanting started slow.Low. Rhythmic. Like a heartbeat echoing in the belly of a beast.I sat with my back to the cold stone wall, chains digging into my wrists. My blood had dried hours ago, stiff and sticky against my skin, but the real pain wasn’t in the cuts or the bruises.It was inside.The mark on my chest that recently appeared burned like it had just been carved. A deep, pulsing throb that synced perfectly with their damn chants. Every beat made it flare hotter. Sharper.I gritted my teeth, flexing against the restraints. Useless.They’d done their homework.Silver links.Wolfsbane laced through the shackles.But they didn’t know everything. They didn’t understand what the mark meant—not really. Not what it did to a person. To me.To Elara.I shut my eyes, trying to hold her face in my mind. Before the rituals. Before the chaos. Before I let my own pain turn me into something she couldn’t reach.And then I heard his voice.Kieran.“I’d say it’s good to see yo
Lora's POVThe fire wasn’t normal. It wasn’t the kind that crackled in fireplaces or flickered in campfires.It was alive, red, deep and pulsing like blood. It didn’t just burn. It seemed to breathe.I stood at the edge of it, frozen, and unable to do a thing while I watched it wrap around her. Elara. Her skin was streaked with ash, her hair wild and tangled, eyes wide and wet with something too painful to name. She wasn’t screaming.She was whispering.“Lora…”Her voice barely reached me through the heat. But I heard it. Goddess, I felt it.“Please…”The flames swallowed her whole.I woke up screaming.I shot upright, lungs dragging for air like I’d been drowning. Sweat drenched my skin, my nightshirt clinging to me like a second layer of skin. My heart slammed against my ribs, and for a second, I wasn’t even sure where I was.The dream still clung to me like smoke. It was thick, choking, and inescapable.“Elara,” I whispered into the dark.I didn’t bother grabbing a robe. I rushed
Elara’s POVThe drums pounded through the courtyard like war cries. The smell of burning herbs and ash filled the air, thick and heavy, like it had a weight of its own. The cultists circled the altar, chanting words older than the land we stood on. Each voice layered over the next, rising into a sound that didn’t feel human.And above it all, I heard him.“Do you still feel it,” Andrew’s voice rasped, “or was it always a lie?”I froze. But before that—Before those words crawled into my bones and made my breath catch—I saw him.They’d chained him to the old execution post, like something out of a nightmare. His shirt was torn, blood streaked across his ribs, and his lip had split open. But he was upright. Breathing. Still defiant, even with all the blood on his skin and the metal biting into his wrists.Andrew.It was the first time I’d seen him since I was taken. Really seen him. Not in visions. Not in dreams. Not in those fleeting, aching flashes I told myself weren’t real.And go