Krysta's POV
The violent shaking jolted me from deep sleep. My mother's voice cut through the darkness, sharp with panic.
"Krysta! Get up now!"
Heavy crashes echoed through our packhouse walls. My heart hammered against my ribs as reality crashed over me like ice water.
"What's happening?" I whispered, sitting up in bed.
"The pack is under siege," she said, throwing clothes at me with trembling hands. "Get dressed. Quickly."
Snow had fallen early this year, and bitter cold seeped through every crack in the walls. I pulled the clothes over my nightgown, my fingers clumsy with fear as I shoved my feet into unlaced boots.
My mother wrapped a thick coat around my shoulders, her movements sharp and desperate.
"We're getting out through the back. You'll ride with Vivian to safety."
Without my wolf, I couldn't run fast enough to escape. I wouldn't shift until my tenth birthday, still months away. My mother's wolf would have to carry me, but that presented its own danger. Our family carried the bloodline of rare white wolves, a gene that traced back through generations of pure Alpha heritage. Despite my brown hair, my wolf would emerge white like my mother's and sister's. In the moonlit forest, Vivian's snowy coat would make us perfect targets.
"Move!" she hissed, dragging me into the hallway.
"Where's Valerie?" I asked, stumbling behind her.
My mother paused, listening to the chaos echoing through the house. "She's not in her room. She's probably fighting alongside your father and Lance."
My nineteen-year-old sister was fierce in battle. My brother Lancelot had just turned eighteen, and we'd spent nearly a year planning his Alpha ceremony. This weekend, he was supposed to officially take leadership of our pack while our parents stepped into retirement.
At the hallway's end, my mother's fingers found the hidden mechanism in the wall. The secret passage had been built by my great-grandfather when he first constructed this packhouse. Only our family knew of its existence.
She pushed me toward the opening just as a vicious snarl erupted behind us. Terror flooded her eyes as she cupped my face with shaking hands.
"Get downstairs. Find your father or Lance. They'll protect you." Her voice broke. "I love you. Remember that always."
The passage door slammed shut between us.
Something heavy crashed against the barrier. Fabric tore, followed by Vivian's furious growl. I pressed my hands over my mouth, choking back sobs as the battle raged inches away.
Without my wolf, I had no mental link to my family. But when I heard that sharp, agonized yelp followed by the wet sound of tearing flesh, my father's howl of anguish told me everything. My mother was gone.
A wolf's snout appeared at the door's base, sniffing frantically. I raced down the hidden stairs as claws scraped against wood above me.
The first floor trembled with violence. I huddled in the secret space, tears streaming down my face, paralyzed by grief and terror.
Time blurred together until the door burst open.
My scream died as strong arms pulled me close.
"Thank the goddess," Lance breathed, his eyes scanning for threats. "I've searched everywhere for you."
He dragged me from the room, his grip firm but gentle.
"Listen carefully. Our parents are dead." His words hit like physical blows. "You have to run. If I survive this, I'll find you. If not, stay hidden. Never let them discover who you are, or they'll kill you too."
We moved through corridors slick with blood. He stopped suddenly, pushing me behind him as a wolf launched itself at us. Lance's claws extended, slashing the attacker's throat mid-leap. The body hit the ground as we ran past.
"Where do I go?" I gasped.
"South. These attackers came from the north. Avoid other packs if possible. We don't know who can be trusted. If you must seek shelter, never reveal your identity. Hide your Alpha blood. Promise me."
"I promise," I whispered.
He stopped, scanning the area before turning to face me. His hands framed my tear-stained face.
"You're stronger than you realize, little sister. You can survive this. I believe in you."
His lips pressed against my forehead. "I love you, Lance."
"I love you too, Krys."
His head snapped up, alert. "Hide! Now!"
I spotted a supply closet and rushed inside, grabbing a blanket from the shelves. Lance pressed his finger to his lips, and I nodded, tucking myself beneath the lowest shelf.
Footsteps approached.
"Miller, thank god it's you," Lance said, relief flooding his voice. "I thought you were another attacker."
My hand reached for the door handle, ready to emerge. Miller was Lance's closest friend. He would help us escape.
Then I saw the knife glinting in his grip.
I pressed deeper into my hiding spot, horror freezing my blood.
"I'm sorry, brother," Miller said softly. "But your time is over."
The blade struck repeatedly. Lance collapsed, his eyes finding mine through the crack in the door as life drained from them.
'Run!' he mouthed silently.
"Miller! Where are you?" Nathan's voice echoed down the hall.
Both of them. Both of my brother's best friends had betrayed him.
"Nathan, it's done. Lance is dead," Miller announced, wiping the knife clean.
Nathan appeared, staring at Lance's body and the growing pool of blood.
"What about Krysta?"
"Haven't seen her. Her mother might have gotten her out, but..."
"She didn't make it either. Damn it!"
"We need to leave," Miller urged.
"Let's search for the girl first. See if she survived."
They disappeared toward the sounds of battle. I waited, watching my brother's vacant stare, until I finally crawled from the closet.
Lance's pulse barely flickered when I checked.
"Run," he choked, blood trickling from his mouth.
"Lance, please—"
"Run, Krys. Stay hidden. Tell no one who you are."
I nodded through my tears, embracing him one final time before fleeing through the side exit.
I kept to the shadows, following familiar pack trails until I reached our borders. Behind me, the battle continued to rage.
Then I ran.
For days, I moved through forests and avoided roads, sleeping only when exhaustion forced me to collapse. Dreams haunted me—Vivian's death, Miller's blade finding its mark again and again.
Finally, my strength gave out completely. I curled into a ball in a small grove, waiting for death to claim me.
Wet noses sniffed at my still form before a man's voice spoke.
"She's just a child. Take her to Alpha Holt. She needs immediate help."
Strong arms lifted me, carrying me at a swift pace.
"Alpha, we found this pup at our border," my rescuer reported.
Gentle fingers brushed hair from my face, reminding me painfully of my father's touch.
"Is this her blood?" a deep voice asked.
"Unknown. We brought her straight here when we realized she was alive."
"Get her to the hospital. She looks half-frozen. Without a wolf, she can't heal herself."
At the pack hospital, they fed me and treated my injuries. Alpha Holt visited daily, and on my second day there, he asked the question I'd been dreading.
"What's your name, child?"
"Krystal," I said quickly, changing it as Lance had instructed.
"Do you belong to a pack, Krystal?"
Tears spilled down my cheeks. I shook my head.
"You've endured terrible things, haven't you?"
I nodded, struggling to breathe under the weight of my memories.
"You're safe here. No one will harm you."
"Thank you."
"What's your rank?"
"Omega," I lied, knowing it was the perfect disguise.
"Once the doctor clears you, we'll find you a room and work schedule. Does that sound acceptable?"
"Yes," I agreed, believing my stay would be temporary.
Two weeks later, I overheard nurses discussing recent pack news. My family was officially dead. Miller had claimed leadership of our former territory.
That moment crystallized everything inside me into a single, burning purpose. I swore a sacred oath to my murdered family that someday I would return home and make Miller and Nathan pay for their betrayal.
The revenge would be mine.