The trees blur past me as I move through the forest, my beta at my side.
I needed to leave. To think. To breathe.
But my mind won't let go of her.
Rose.
She stood there, heart pounding like a frightened doe — and still, she offered herself as bait.
Brave. Reckless. Stupid.
And utterly mine.
"She'll die if we use her," I mutter, low.
My beta glances at me. "She'll die if we don't. They won't stop."
I know he's right. The Shadow Pack isn't hunting her just to make a statement. They're after something more. Something darker. But until I know what, I have to prepare for the worst.
And protect her with everything I have.
"She's not ready," I say.
"She's not," he agrees. "But she's willing."
That's what unsettles me most.
She should be running. Hiding. Clinging to me for safety. But instead, she looks me in the eye and says, use me.
Like a warrior.
Like a Luna.
I pause at the edge of the ridge, staring out across the valley. The scent of blood is still fresh in my mind, from the last ambush. The death toll is rising. Our enemies are multiplying.
And my people are looking to me to stop it.
But my mind keeps going back to that training room. To her hands gripping a blade. To the defiance in her eyes.
To the way she looked at Becca, not as a victim begging for mercy—but as a student demanding to learn.
"She'll break," I say quietly.
"Maybe," my beta says. "But maybe she won't."
I don't reply. I don't need to.
Because in my gut, I already know the truth.
She won't break.
She'll burn.
And if I'm not careful, she'll become something even I can't control.
A smile tugs at the corner of my mouth—dark, proud, and possessive.
Let them come, I think. Let them try to take her.
They don't know what's waiting.
They don't know what she's becoming.