The great hall was alive with murmurs when Caius entered. The banners of the pack hung above the throne where his father, Alpha Kalen sat stiffly. The air was thick with power. Elara stood at the edge of the hall, flanked by two strong men. She wore one of the dresses Caius had chosen for this occasion, soft fabric falling over her shoulders like captured moonlight. The bruise on her cheek had begun to fade, though Caius handprint seemed burned beneath her skin.
He smiled, moving forward to stand before his father. "It's my pleasure to announce my intent to make Elara my bride."
A ripple passed through the gathered people. Alpha Kalen leaned back in his chair, hands clasped before him. "Your intent?" his tone was calm, almost lazy, though it carried the weight of thunder behind it. "I would have thought your intent was to prepare for your accension, not to rush into mating bonds and women."
"I have considered counsel," Caius said, jaw tightening. "And this is my decision. She bears my mark now."
His Father's gaze flicked briefly towards Elara, lingering on her. "So, I see. You know well Caius, that when a future Alpha mates, It's not only for desire. It's for power, for unity, for the strength of the pack. I thought your mate would be one of the Shadow pack daughters." His eyes softened briefly. "If you are certain she is your mate, the bond cannot be denied."
He descended slowly. "Very well," he said at last, standing before Caius. "I've always known you to be an upright son who would be the true Alpha of this pack. The court will honor your claim. The ceremony shall commence."
Caius bowed his head. "Tomorrow," he said quickly. "At dawn. I want it done simply."
The moon hung pale and sharp above the towers, throwing light across the cold stone. Elara lay awake on the bed, her eyes tracing the darkness. Her body trembled with memories she could never quiet nor understand.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw him, Felt his grip and eyes that burned with cold fire. Those eyes didn't just look at her, they burned through her, as if seeing every secrets she'd ever buried.
She had been claimed.
A tear slipped down her cheek. Her mind told her it was impossible, wrong, yet her body betrayed her with the yearning that coiled deep in her chest. The mark throbbed when she thought of him. He had bitten her, yes, but he had also spared her.
How could she be drawn to someone so terrifying?
She turned restlessly, burying her face in the blanket. The pull she felt wasn't a thought, It was alive, humming through her body.
The forest was unnervingly quiet. The wind barely stilled the leaves, The night creatures had gone still because of the unusual scent. Thorn moved cautiously through the dark, his senses sharp, every muscle coiled. The moonlight slipped through the trees, glinting against his skin as he signaled the others.
"Spread out," he ordered. "Check the trees."
The air carried the faint tang of blood, earth and something older. A branch snapped sharply to his right. He turned sharply. "Jerren? Kellan?"
No answer.
There was a sound like something slicing through flesh. A muffled gurgle and silence. Thorn moved toward the noise, shifting halfway, his eyes alert and ready. The scent of wolf skin hit him first. He barely had time to react before something heavy dropped beside him with a dull thud.
Kellan's head.
Another rustle above. A body fell, limp, lifeless. Panic clung through the men still standing.
"Show yourself!" Thorn roared into the trees.
A shadow landed silently before Thorn, straightening slowly, tall and bare-chested, his skin was streaked with faint scars that glowed in the moonlight. His hair was white as frost, falling to his shoulders, framing a face that was both ruthless and beautiful.
Thorn froze. His heart knew before his tongue could speak.
"Dante," he breathed.
Dante smiled faintly. "I wondered how long it would take my brother to send his dogs."
"You murdered them," Thorn said, voice hardening.
"No. I answered them. They trespassed." his tone was quiet, calm, and somehow worse than rage. "They reeked of Caius." he sighed.
Thorn pulse raced. The weight of Dante's presence pressed on him like the air before a storm. "You're supposed to be dead. I made sure of that when you were punished."
"You mean the crime that your leader committed?" his smirk deepened. He began to circle Thorn, slow and calculating. "Tell Caius something for me."
Thorn's throat tightened.
"Have no fear. It's the only reason why you head is not on the other side of the forest."
Dante stopped in front of him, silver eyes gleaming. "Tell him the ghost he buried are walking again."
And before Thorn could shift, he vanished into the darkness.
The courtyard was restless that morning. The scent of iron and sweat clung to the air as Caius's men trained, blades flashing and teeth baring in the sun. His cloak was dusted with soil, his eyes sharp as flint. When Thorn and the surviving men approached, he turned, wiping his blade with slow precision.
"You're late." Caius said, his tone smooth.
Thorn dropped to one knee, lowering his head. "Forgive me, my lord. The rogue trails were...scattered. He's clever."
Caius gaze caught through him. "Where are the others?"
"We were attacked."
Jerren stepped forward, his voice trembled slightly. "We found signs of him. Tracks near the East. It's only a matter of time before we corner him."
Caius circled them slowly, the sound of his boots echoing across the stones. The air grew heavier. "And the girl's parents?"
"They're safe," Thorn replied quickly. "We reinforced the guards, just as you commanded. They'll remain untouched until you say otherwise."
A long silence stretched. Caius eyes narrowed, studying him as though peeling away his thoughts layer by layer. "Good," he said. "Keep them alive. I might need them to remind my bride what disobedience costs."
"Yes my lord,"
"Keep hunting. If my brother still breathes, I want him to wish he didn't."
The moon had not yet risen, but the pack was already alive with preparation. Servants hurried through the stone corridors carrying garlands of silver blooms, polishing candelabras, and laying out gold-threaded banners that bore the crest of the pack.
Elara sat before the mirror, still as the reflection staring back at her. Her dress shimmered faintly when the candlelight moved, her hands trembled in her lap. Behind her, Rose worked quietly, weaving her hair into soft braids. "You look beautiful, Elara." she said softly.
"My life hangs on a thread, Rose."
Rose hesitated, sensing the weight in her tone. "You don't have to be afraid. There's still hope."
She almost laughed, but it caught somewhere in her chest. Her skin was burning beneath the lace at her collar, where the bite lay hidden. The mark. It throbbed faintly, as if the blood beneath it remembered a voice, a scent.
She could still see him. His white hair glinting like snow in shadow, the unnatural color of his eyes and the warmth of his hands on her skin.
The scent of incense and iron weighed thick in the air.
Elara stood still as the servants pinned her hair. Her dress felt too tight at the ribs, too close to her skin. She could barely eat and breathe. Rose hovered near her with worry. There was nothing left to say.
Caius men escorted her like a prisoner through the hallways. The ceilings climbed high, swallowing sounds, making her footsteps echo like a quiet surrender.
When the large doors to the hall opened, every head turned. Men and women sat in rows, high-ranking warriors and allies. The Alpha sat on his throne, his age heavy in his shoulders and the Luna at his side.
Dressed in a leather armor, his posture was straight and focused. She walked toward him, forced steady, though her legs trembled beneath her red furs. With heavy steps, her throat burned. She swallowed hard, forcing her breathing slow.
Caius cannot notice this.
Her pulse hammered. When she reached him, he extended his hands, gripping it firmly.
"You're nervous?" he murmured, low enough for only her.
The ceremony started. Everyone quietly taking their seats. But before Caius could bind his hands to hers, the great double doors of the hall exploded open, slamming against the stone walls with a force that rattled the tower. The gust of cold air that rushed in sent candles flickering and warriors ready to fight.
Smoke curled at the entrance, then parted and a figure stepped through. His strong legs was revealed first, thick with strength. Then, his hair, white as moonlight snow. His skin held a faint, cold luminescence. His chest was bare, but his dark leather robe clung to his strong waist.
His eyes met hers and the burning in her chest stopped. Caius grip tightened so hard that her bones ached. Her wolf clawed at her chest.
"You called, little flower,"
What?
Her knees nearly buckled. Caius's jaw clenched, rage barely caged.
"Dante,"
The rogue smiled.
Caius's eyes widened in confusion. But she couldn't look at him. Her gaze was pulled to the rogue, and his eyes didn't waver. He moved slowly to her.
Her breath caught as she felt him close. Caius lunged but he stopped him with one palm, but his attention never left her. His hands rose to her jaw. He tilted her face up, thumb brushing her cheekbone.
"Did he touch you?"
The mark on her neck pulsed, answering him without a word. Her knees trembled.
His gaze slid to the fabric at her shoulder. In one motion, he pulled her forward, his hands wrapping around her waist, drawing her against him. She gasped as her body collided with his bare chest. He bent his head to her collarbone and inhaled deeply, like tasting her skin for truth .
Caius's roar shattered the silence. He shifted, bones cracking, fur ripping through skin.
"Enough!"
The Alpha's voice thundered through the hall.
"She's not yours, Dante." Caius snared, shaking with rage.
"She is mine now," Dante growled, voice breaking under fury. "I will have all of her."