The letter was gone when I woke up.
I'd left it on my nightstand, right under the dagger Talia insisted I keep "just in case anyone with a death wish decided to tap on your window."
But by sunrise, both the letter and the dagger had vanished.
Which meant someone had come into my room. While I slept.
And left me alive.
Not exactly comforting.
"This is a message," Talia said as she pulled the mattress away from the wall. "They wanted you to know they could get in. That they're watching."
"Why not kill me then?"
"Because the Oathbound don't kill loudly. They kill when it matters most."
Great. So now I was marked for dramatic assassination. Fantastic.
Ruvan limped into the room not long after, still stiff from the duel but stubborn as ever.
"We need to leave the territory," he said grimly. "The council won't protect you anymore. If the Oathbound are back…"
"Where would we even go?" I asked.
"To someone who knows how to fight shadows."
I blinked. "You're not talking about who I think you're talking about."
"We need to find Ryker."
The Rogue Alpha
Ryker Voss wasn't a bedtime story. He was the warning before the bedtime story.
Once Alpha of the Black Hollow pack, he went rogue ten years ago after killing half his council in a blood-rage. Some say it was because his mate died. Others say he killed his mate.
Either way, he vanished into the snowlands.
And now Ruvan wanted us to seek him out.
We ran.
Literally.
Ruvan couldn't shift yet, but I did—carrying our scent forward while Talia rode ahead with supplies and maps. Our journey carved through frozen pine, past the borders of Ravelle and into terrain I'd only ever seen on forbidden maps.
The north howled differently.
The air smelled older.
Colder.
Like secrets had roots here.
We found Ryker on the third night.
Well.
He found us.
Talia had just finished heating soup over a smokeless fire when I heard the crack of pine behind us. My wolf senses flared, and I turned just in time to see a blur of fur and ice eyes lunge.
I barely shifted before being slammed into a tree.
A massive black wolf pinned me—bigger than any I'd fought, eyes wild and aware. Ryker.
Ruvan growled behind him.
"Back off, Voss!"
"Your mutt's scent carries lies," came the reply, rough and gravelly, even in wolf-speak.
"She carries truth," Ruvan snapped.
That gave Ryker pause.
Then he stepped back, slowly shifted.
His human form was scarred and lean, built like a predator who never stopped hunting. His hair was long, streaked silver at the ends. His eyes? Haunted.
"I thought you were smarter than this, Ravelle," he said, cracking his neck.
"The Oathbound are back," Ruvan replied.
"So what?"
"They've marked her."
Ryker looked at me. And his lips curled—not in mockery. In curiosity.
"You're the Vale girl."
"So everyone keeps saying," I muttered.
"You carry a death scent. But not your own. Someone else's blood binds to your fate."
"I'm sorry, what now?"
He walked closer, uncaring that we were strangers. He pressed two fingers to my collarbone—right where the rejected mark still lingered, dull and scarred.
"You were bonded by force."
"Yeah."
"And then you chose another."
"Yes."
"And now fate is watching you. Closely."
He stepped back, almost amused.
"You really are going to start a war."
-
That night, Ryker told us everything.
About the Oathbound.
About the royal line.
About the real reason my bloodline had been buried.
"Your father was not just a Vale," he said. "He was the last King's hunter. The Wolfmaker."
"Wolfmaker?" I echoed.
"He created a way to force the shift. To weaponize it. He believed wolves should never return to human form. That instincts were purer than politics."
My stomach turned.
"He tried to build a pack that would live as wolves. Forever. No speech. No mercy."
"And my mother?"
"She was his opposite. She bound the soul to humanity. Together, they made the ultimate balance."
He looked me dead in the eye.
"And now you carry both inside you."
-
Later, I sat by the edge of the camp, staring at the snow-blanketed forest.
Ruvan joined me, sitting so close our shoulders brushed.
"Still breathing?" he asked softly.
"Barely."
"Want to shift?"
"No. I'm scared what I'll see."
He tilted his head.
"Your wolf won't betray you. She is you."
That got a laugh from me.
"Says the guy who got stabbed by a feral."
"And still looked good doing it."
We lay back in the snow, eyes on the stars.
"You think we're ready?" I asked.
"Not even close."
"Great."
"But I'd rather fight with you than sit in a council room full of cowards."
"Smooth."
"Wasn't trying to be."
"Liar."
I turned toward him, breath misting.
"You know you're mine now, right?"
"I was yours the second you bit my brother."
We kissed. Slow. Fierce. Not gentle.
Because nothing about us ever had been.
-
Somewhere in the trees...
A shadow watched.
And in its hand?
The missing dagger.
And my scent.