The pain of the shift was unlike anything I had ever heard described in the pack house. Usually, a werewolf's first shift is loud—full of snapping bones and howling. But my transformation was silent. It felt like my skin was being rewritten by the moonlight itself.
I lay on the forest floor, gasping. I looked down at my paws. They weren't the muddy brown or grey of the Blackwood wolves. They were a brilliant, shimmering white, like fresh snow under a winter sun.
"Beautiful," the man's voice rumbled.
I looked up. The stranger was still standing there. He didn't move toward me, and he didn't shift back into a wolf. He just watched me with those piercing red eyes. He carried a heavy aura of power—so heavy it made the air feel thick and hard to breathe. This wasn't the controlled power of an Alpha like Thorne. This was something wilder. Something ancient.
I tried to growl, to tell him to stay back, but my new wolf was exhausted. The rejection bond still felt like a raw, bleeding wound in my chest, and the shift had taken the last of my strength. My eyes started to flutter shut.
"Sleep, little wolf," the man whispered. His voice was like velvet over gravel. "The Blackwood Pack thinks they threw away a pebble. They have no idea they dropped a diamond in the mud. I will be here when you wake."
When I finally opened my eyes, I wasn't in the mud anymore.
I was lying on a pile of soft, black furs inside a cave. A small fire crackled in the center of the room, casting long, dancing shadows against the stone walls. My body felt different—stronger, heavier, and humming with a strange energy.
I sat up quickly, pulling the furs to my chest. I realized I was back in my human form, and someone had left a simple, oversized black shirt for me to wear.
"You're awake."
The man was sitting by the fire, sharpening a long, silver dagger. In the light of the flames, he looked even more intimidating. He was covered in battle scars—one long mark ran from his collarbone down past the edge of his shirt. He wasn't just a rogue; he was a warrior who had survived things my pack couldn't imagine.
"Where am I?" I asked, my voice rasping. "And who are you? You said... you said you are the King of the Rogues."
He looked up, and for a second, the red in his eyes faded to a deep, dark brown. "Names have power, Elara. In the world of the outcasts, we don't give them away for free." He stood up, and even from across the room, I could feel the heat radiating off him. He was tall, his muscles moving like liquid under his tan skin.
He walked toward me, stopping just a few feet away. He didn't touch me, but he leaned in slightly, sniffing the air.
"I can still smell him on you," he said, his lip curling in a sneer. "The Alpha who rejected you. His scent is sour. Weak."
I looked down at my hands, my heart stinging at the mention of Thorne. "He's the strongest Alpha in the territory. Everyone says so."
The stranger laughed, a dark, dry sound. "Strength isn't just about how many wolves follow your orders. It's about knowing what you have when it's standing right in front of you. He rejected a Royal White Wolf. That mistake will cost him his kingdom."
I looked at him in shock. "A Royal? That's impossible. My parents were omegas. I'm nobody."
"Your parents might have been omegas," the man said, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made my breath hitch. "But your blood is older than this pack. Much older. You aren't just a werewolf, Elara. You are the first of your kind to be born in a thousand years."
He reached out, his hand hovering near my hair, but he pulled it back before making contact. The restraint in his movement was obvious. He was dangerous, and he knew it.
"Why are you helping me?" I asked. "What do you want?"
The stranger turned back to the fire, his expression unreadable. "I want what everyone in the shadows wants, Elara. Justice. And I think you're going to be the one to give it to me."
Suddenly, the sound of a distant howl echoed through the cave entrance. It was a Blackwood howl. The hunting party.
"They're close," I whispered, panic rising in my throat. "Thorne... he said he would hunt me if I didn't leave."
The stranger didn't look worried. He picked up his silver dagger and tucked it into his belt. He looked at the cave entrance with a predatory smile.
"Let them come," he said softly. "I've been wanting to see how an Alpha screams."
He turned to me, his eyes glowing red again. "Stay behind me, Elara. And whatever you see next... do not scream."