I couldn't stop staring.
The rogue camp was nothing like I expected. It wasn't cold or strict like Bloodfang, where everyone feared making a single mistake. Here, everything was alive. Messy. Warm. Real.
A group of wolves sat by a fire, laughing and passing a bottle around. Near another tent, two women sparred playfully, throwing punches and laughing without anger. Children ran between tents, shouting and chasing each other in a wild game of tag.
Children.
In a rogue camp.
I didn't even know that was possible.
"It's not what you expected, is it?" Kael asked beside me, watching my face.
"No," I admitted. "I thought rogues were all violent and dangerous… that they lived alone."
"We are dangerous," he said softly. "Every wolf here has been through things that would break most people. But danger doesn't mean we can't live together. We protect each other. That's how we survive."
His words hit something deep inside me.
Protection. Community. Belonging.
Things I'd never really had.
As we walked farther into the camp, people began to notice us. Conversations stopped. Laughter faded. One by one, every face turned toward me.
I pulled Kael's jacket tighter, suddenly aware of how I looked, barefoot, bleeding, wearing only his coat. A stranger among them. An outsider.
"Who's that?" someone whispered.
"She's hurt—"
"Where did Kael find her?"
"Is she alone?"
Their voices buzzed around me. I fought the urge to run into the forest, to shift and disappear before anyone could stare any longer.
Breathe, my wolf whispered. They're curious, not hostile.
I wasn't sure if I believed her.
"Everyone," Kael said loudly, his voice firm, "this is Selene. She needs help, food, rest, and medical care. And before anyone asks yes, I'm vouching for her."
The camp went silent.
Then a woman stood up from near the fire. She was tall, lean, and fierce-looking, with copper-red hair that glowed in the firelight. Her green eyes were sharp but not cruel.
"You're vouching for her?" she asked Kael. "You don't even know her."
"I know enough."
"Do you?" She walked closer, her gaze locked on me. "Bringing strangers here is how people die, Kael."
"Lyra—"
"No." She raised a hand to stop him. "You might trust too easily, but I don't." She stopped right in front of me. "What pack are you from, girl?"
My throat tightened. "Bloodfang."
A murmur swept through the camp. Uneasy. Distrustful.
"Bloodfang," Lyra repeated, frowning. "Victor Hartley's pack."
I flinched when she said his name.
She noticed.
"What happened?" she asked, voice calm but cold. "Did you run away?"
"I was banished," I whispered.
"Why?"
The question hung heavy in the air.
I could've lied. Said something simple, something harmless. But I was tired of lying.
"Because my mate rejected me in front of everyone," I said quietly. "Then he exiled me. And when that wasn't enough, he sent hunters to make sure I didn't survive."
Silence.
Lyra's expression softened just a little. "Your mate rejected you?" she asked gently.
I nodded. "I barely made it out alive."
Lyra studied me for a long time before sighing. "Alright. You can stay. But if you cause trouble, you're gone. We don't do pack drama here. Understand?"
Relief hit me so hard my knees nearly buckled. "Yes. Thank you. I won't—"
"Don't thank me yet." She turned to the others. "This girl stays until she heals. Anyone got a problem with that?"
No one answered.
"Good," she said. Then, looking back at me, "Come on. Let's patch you up before you bleed all over my clean dirt."
Lyra's shelter was small but neat. Herbs hung from the ceiling, jars filled with salves lined a shelf, and the air smelled like lavender mixed with something sharp and medicinal.
"Sit," she ordered, pointing to a stool.
I sat, too tired to argue.
Kael lingered in the doorway. "Need me to stay?"
"I've got it," Lyra said, pulling out supplies. "Go let the guards know we have a guest. I don't want anyone panicking."
He nodded and left, but not before giving me one last look.
Lyra knelt and started unwrapping the bandage Kael had placed on my shoulder. When she saw the wound, she hissed softly. "That's deep. Arrow?"
"Yes."
"Silver-tipped?"
"I think so."
"Of course it was." She poured something on a cloth. "This'll hurt."
And it did.
The liquid burned like fire. I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood, tears spilling silently down my cheeks.
Lyra worked in silence until she finally spoke again. "So. Bloodfang."
I didn't answer.
"I've heard about Victor Hartley," she said. "Cruel man. Rules by fear."
"You know him?"
"Not personally. But stories travel." She began wrapping the wound again. "What I don't get is why he'd reject his mate. Alphas are obsessed with the bond."
I swallowed. "I was wolfless. He said I'd make him look weak."
Lyra froze. "Wolfless?"
I nodded.
"But you're not anymore, are you?"
I looked up sharply. "What?"
She gestured at my wound. "It's healing faster than normal. And the way Kael looked at you like he wasn't sure if you were dangerous or a miracle. You shifted for the first time tonight, didn't you?"
There was no point lying. "Yes."
"Late shifter, then. Rare, but not impossible." She dabbed salve on my bruises. "What kind of wolf?"
I hesitated.
Tell her and risk everything?
Or stay silent and let her find out anyway?
"Shadow Wolf," I whispered.
Lyra froze.
For a moment, she didn't move. Then she sat back slowly and stared at me. "You're joking."
"I'm not."
"Shadow Wolves are extinct."
"Apparently not."
She laughed once, sharp and humorless. "No wonder Victor rejected you. He had a Shadow Wolf for a mate and was too stupid to realize it."
"Gift?" I asked quietly. "You call this a gift?"
"Do you know what that means, Selene?" Lyra leaned closer, her green eyes bright. "Shadow Wolves were legends. They could control darkness, walk between worlds, and command power Alphas could only dream of."
"I don't feel powerful," I murmured. "I just feel… broken."
Her voice softened. "You're not broken. You survived things that should've killed you. Rejection, exile, a first shift, and a hunt—all in one night. You're not weak. You're just tired." She pulled a blanket over me. "Rest. We'll talk more in the morning."
"But—"
"Sleep," she said firmly. "That's an order."
I wanted to ask more, but exhaustion pulled me under. My eyes closed, and for the first time in forever, I felt something like safety.
I dreamed of fire.
Of my mother's cabin burning. Wolves with glowing eyes. Shadows rising from the flames.
And a deep, echoing voice:
The last daughter wakes. The hunt begins.
I woke with a gasp, heart racing.
Sunlight streamed through the cracks in the wall. Morning. I'd slept through the night.
Lyra was across from me, grinding herbs. She looked up when I moved.
"Morning," she said. "How do you feel?"
I tested my body, my shoulder ached but less, my bruises were fading. "Better."
"Good." Her tone shifted, serious now. "Then we need to talk."
"About what?"
"Three Council scouts were spotted near the border this morning." Her eyes met mine. "And they were asking about a Shadow Wolf."
My blood ran cold.
"They're looking for you, Selene," Lyra said quietly. "And it's only a matter of time before they find you."