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SageMy first steps beyond my room feel like walking into enemy territory. I considered hiding out despite Alaric’s declaration of freedom, But that would make me a coward, unworthy of Alaric’s faith in me. So I lift my chin, refusing to skulk like a guilty thing. Alaric's marks still tingle on my neck, reminding me that I'm not alone anymore."Well, well." Iris's gleeful voice makes me jump. "What are those on your neck?"My hand flies up to cover Alaric's marks, face flaming. "I... that is... we were training and...""Training?" She circles me like a predator. "Is that what they're calling it now? Must have been quite the... defensive maneuver.""Iris!" I try to sound stern but my voice comes out squeaky."I mean, some of these look pretty high up for combat holds." She grins wickedly. "Unless you were practicing very specific escape techniques?""We were... I mean he was... oh moon, stop looking at me like that!"Her laughter echoes through the hall. "Wait till Garrett hears about t
Alaric "The practice is unnatural," Elder Marcus declares, his face twisted with revulsion. "We honor our dead, not mutilate them.""Two warriors are dead," I growl, barely containing my beast's rage. "Dead under suspicious circumstances that some are using to condemn an innocent wolf. You'd deny us the chance to prove her innocence because of tradition?"The council chamber fills with uneasy murmurs. No Alpha has ever suggested examining our dead this way before. But no Alpha has ever had their mate falsely accused of murder either."My King," Lord Harrison speaks carefully. "While we understand your... personal interest in clearing the omega's name, there are centuries of custom to consider."Phantom snarls at their inability to say Sage's name, to acknowledge her as pack. But I force my voice to remain steady. "And what of justice? What of truth?""There are other ways to investigate," Victoria's father suggests smoothly. "Ways that don't desecrate our fallen warriors."Before I ca
Sage Small changes ripple through the pack in the days following the poisoning incident. Wolves still whisper when I pass, but some nod respectfully now. The warriors I saved make a point of greeting me publicly. Their families send quiet thanks through Iris.But at night, when I'm alone with my thoughts, doubt creeps in like poison. I know who I am now - a healer, someone who saves lives. But what about then? What about the memories that stay locked behind that dark wall in my mind?"You're brooding again," Iris declares, finding me in the garden. "I can practically smell the self-doubt.""Wouldn't you doubt?" I touch a moonflower petal. "Everyone keeps talking about how well I know poisons, how easily I recognized them. What if...""Don't." She grabs my hands. "Don't let their accusations make you question yourself.""But that's just it - I don't know myself. Not really." The words that have been haunting me spill out. "I know who I am now, but what about before? What if I really d
Sage The training room feels different in early morning solitude. My muscles remember the moves now, body flowing through sequences Alaric has drilled into me night after night. I catch glimpses of myself in the mirrored walls - not the scared omega from Blackthorn anymore, but someone stronger. Someone who knows how to fight back."Your form is improving."I don't startle at Iris's voice. Another change - I'm more aware of my surroundings now, harder to sneak up on."Alaric's a good teacher." When he's not distracting me with other activities, I don't add."Speaking of my brother's... teaching." Her grin turns wicked. "Those marks on your neck are new."Before I can sputter a response, voices approach the training room. Eris enters with her usual entourage, including Victoria and three other noble wolves."Well, well." Eris's smile shows teeth. "The little poison-maker, practicing her... skills."I continue my exercises, remembering Alaric's lessons about staying calm. "Good morning,
Alaric The scouts kneel before my throne, exhaustion clear in their postures. Three weeks in the northern territories has left them gaunt but determined."We found it, my King." The lead scout places a weathered scroll case at my feet. "Hidden in the mountains where the healing packs once lived."My beast stirs at the scent clinging to the artifacts - ancient herbs and something that reminds me of Sage's unique fragrance."The settlement was destroyed," another scout reports. "But some records survived in underground chambers. Records that tell a very different story than the one the Blackthorn Beta Female presented."I unroll the first scroll carefully, its edges crumbling with age. Detailed accounts of the healing packs fill the brittle pages - their abilities, their bloodlines, their sacred duty to protect all wolves."There's more." The lead scout hesitates. "We found evidence of an attack. Not by their own pack as was claimed, but by outsiders who feared their power."Garrett ex
Sage The pendant feels different now that I know its history. Not just a mysterious link to my past, but potentially a key to ancient healing knowledge. If only I knew how to access it."Focus," the head healer instructs as I examine a warrior's infected wound. "Don't think about healing. Feel it."I close my eyes, letting my hands hover over the injury. There's something there - a sense of wrongness I can't quite explain. "The infection spreads deeper than it looks," I murmur. "Like threads of darkness under the skin.""Exactly." She sounds pleased. "The healing packs could sense illness this way. Reading the body's patterns, understanding what it needs."We've been testing these abilities all morning. Not the dramatic soul-healing the ancient texts describe, but practical applications of what seems to come naturally to me. My mysterious talent for knowing which herbs to combine, for sensing where injuries run deepest."It's like..." I struggle to explain as I work. "Like the body te
Alaric "The healing pack abilities are a threat to pack stability," Lord Marcus declares. "History shows us the dangers of unchecked power. Already she gains followers, already she challenges our traditional ways—""By healing our wounded?" I counter, barely containing my beast's rage. "By saving lives when our usual methods fail? If that’s the trade off then I don’t give a fuck what history shows!""It's not just about healing," Victoria's father interjects. "These abilities... they're unnatural. The old texts speak of powers that could control wolves' very natures. What's to stop her from—"The howls that cut him off carry notes I haven't heard in years - pure terror mixed with desperate warning. My beast recognizes the threat before my human mind can process it. These aren't normal patrol signals. These are primal, urgent. A warrior bursts through the council doors, bleeding from multiple wounds. "Mutant wolves... breached the borders... attacking the gardens..." He manages the s
Sage Power courses through me like liquid moonlight as I stand over Alaric's fallen form. Everything feels different - sharper, clearer, more alive. I am different. Where once there was emptiness, now my wolf fills me completely, as if she was merely sleeping all this time, waiting for this moment.My pure white fur gleams in the moonlight, and some deep instinct tells me my name - Aura. But I can't focus on the wonder of finally finding my wolf, not with Alaric still bleeding before me.The mutant wolves retreat, but their corrupted scent lingers, reminding me how close we came to losing everything. How close I came to losing him. The memory of his blood mixing with mine, of power exploding through me when I thought I'd lose him forever, still burns in my veins.“We need to shift back,” I think frantically, trying to figure out how to access my human form.“Breathe,” a voice inside me soothes - my wolf, Aura. “Feel the change in your bones. Let it flow naturally.”Her presence in my
Alexander I stand in the doorway of Lyra's chambers, all my carefully prepared words evaporating at the sight of her. She looks exhausted but resolute, chin lifted slightly in that way I've come to recognize means she's bracing for an argument. The bond between us pulses with conflicting emotions—relief at our proximity battling with the lingering tension from our courtyard confrontation."Can I come in?" I ask, my voice softer than I intended.She nods, stepping back to allow me entry. I close the door behind me, grateful for the privacy after our too-public disagreement earlier."I owe you an apology," I begin, pride giving way to more important priorities. "My reaction to your return was..." I search for the right word."Possessive? Accusatory? Completely unfair?" she supplies, though the slight curve of her lips takes some sting from the words."All of the above," I admit with a rueful smile. "I was worried sick, Lyra. The bond separation, the power surges, the reports of Vega's a
Lyra The palace looks different this time—less intimidating, more like a potential sanctuary than a gilded prison. Maybe it's because I'm not arriving as a captive or a curiosity, but as someone making a conscious choice to return. Or maybe I'm just too exhausted to be intimidated anymore."You okay?" Kieran asks, pulling his horse alongside mine as we approach the eastern gate."Just tired," I assure him, though that's only part of the truth. The bond with Alexander strengthens with every hoofbeat closer to the palace, the familiar silver warmth spreading through my chest after days of uncomfortable stretching.The guards at the gate snap to attention when they recognize me, their expressions a mixture of relief and curiosity. They wave us through with minimal questions, though I notice how their eyes linger on Kieran and the other healers with suspicion.Some things haven't changed, then.The eastern courtyard bustles with activity—servants carrying supplies, guards changing shifts,
Alexander "Your Highness, the eastern patrol has returned."I look up from the maps spread across my desk to see Captain Merrick standing at attention in the doorway. The grim set of his mouth tells me he's not bringing good news."Report," I command, straightening to my full height."We've confirmed the presence of at least eight individuals matching Northern territory descriptions moving through the eastern forests." He points to the area on my map where Lyra's healing community had relocated. "They're using search patterns consistent with tracking specific targets, not random patrols."My stomach knots. "How close to the healer settlement?""Too close," he admits. "Less than five miles from their last known location."A surge of power—part Alpha, part healing—runs through me at the news, making the maps glow faintly beneath my hands. I've been fighting these manifestations all day, each one stronger than the last as the bond between Lyra and me stretches with our separation."Shit,
Lyra "What existed between us was real," I acknowledge quietly. "Friendship, respect, potential for more. I never denied that.""And now?" His question carries no accusation, only sincere desire to understand where my boundaries are now."Now complexity exists where once things seemed so simple between us, so easy." I reply, honesty demanded by years of trust between us. "The bond with Alexander doesn't erase what came before, but it changes the context irrevocably."He reaches out slowly, giving me time to withdraw if I choose, and gently brushes a strand of hair from my face. The casual intimacy of the gesture—one he's performed countless times before—suddenly carries a different weight, awareness crackling between us like the static before a storm."If fate hadn't intervened," he murmurs, "if you'd never met him...""We can't know that path because we're not walking it," I interrupt gently, though I don't pull away from his touch. "Speculating about what might have been only makes
LyraThe familiar scents of wild herbs and wood smoke welcome me as we crest the final ridge overlooking our community's temporary settlement. After the palace's overwhelming grandeur, the simple cluster of hide tents and wooden shelters feels like drawing a deep breath after being underwater too long. My shoulders relax instinctively, the tight knot of tension court life created beginning to loosen."You look happier already," Kieran observes, pulling his horse alongside mine. His green eyes study me with the perception that comes from years of friendship. "The palace weighs on you.""It's... different," I acknowledge, remaining deliberately neutral despite the relief coursing through me. "Complex in ways I never imagined.""And the prince?" he asks carefully. "Is he worth the complexity?"The question carries layers beneath its simplicity. Through our temporarily stabilized bond, I feel Alexander's presence like a silver thread stretched thin but unbroken between us. Even discussing
Alexander Throughout the day, power surges continue with increasing frequency and intensity. During an afternoon security briefing, my Alpha energy flares so strongly that decorative weapons mounted on the walls rattle in their holdings. Later, while reviewing border reports, healing power manifests as visible glow surrounding my hands, making parchment maps luminescent where I touch them.By evening, controlling these manifestations requires constant focus, draining energy needed for royal duties that cannot be postponed despite my discomfort. The council reconvenes to discuss increased activity along the eastern border—reports of strangers matching Northern territory descriptions moving through regions where healing communities traditionally hide."Vega's agents, most likely," Dominic assesses, pointing to locations marked on the tactical map. "Their movement patterns suggest searching rather than random patrol.""Searching for what?" Lord Harrison questions."Not what—who," I corre
Alexander The council chamber feels like a trap this morning—a gilded cage of obligation, duty, and politics that keeps me from what I truly want to be doing. My attention drifts repeatedly toward the window, toward the eastern gate where I know Lyra will soon depart with Kieran. Every instinct rebels against letting her leave the palace, letting her travel with another man who clearly harbors feelings for her."Your Highness?" Lord Harrison's voice cuts through my distraction. "Your thoughts on the Northern territories' proposal?"I refocus on the documents before me, forcing composure over agitation. "Their offer of partial reparations is insufficient," I state, scanning the diplomatic language that disguises the Northern delegation's attempt to minimize consequences for their actions. "They participated in an unprovoked attack on our throne. I won’t accept anything less than full accountability."The council members exchange glances, some approving, others concerned."The Northern
LyraThe council chambers occupy an imposing section of the palace, all dark wood and serious faces. When I enter, conversation halts abruptly. Alexander stands at the head of a long table scattered with maps and documents, looking exhausted but commanding. Relief crosses his features when he sees me."Lyra, thank you for coming," he says, gesturing me forward. "The council requires information about Vega's capabilities and possible locations."I step further into the room, acutely aware of the scrutiny from a dozen pairs of eyes. Most expressions range from skeptical to overtly hostile, with only Dominic and Elara offering friendly faces among the assembled advisors."Surely there are more reliable sources of intelligence than a... healer," one councilor objects, the pause before "healer" making the word sound like an insult."You’d do well to remember my mother, your queen, is a healer. As am I.” Alexander snaps, a hint of Alpha authority edging his tone. “Lyra has firsthand experien
Lyra Dinner progresses with excruciating formality. I struggle with the bewildering array of utensils, the unfamiliar dishes, the careful dance of court conversation where nothing is directly stated and everything carries double meaning. Kieran fares no better, his discomfort evident in his tense posture and minimal responses.Alexander tries to include us in conversations, explaining context and introducing friendly nobles, but his attention is constantly divided. Royal matters continuously draw him away—urgent whispers from advisors, formal greetings required by protocol, political discussions that cannot wait despite the occasion.Each time he's pulled away, our fragile bond stretches thinner, fluctuating uncomfortably. Across the table, I notice Elara watching with concern, clearly perceiving the strain through her growing abilities."The court will always demand his attention," Kieran murmurs during one such absence. "This is his life, Lyra. Endless politics, endless obligations.