Aria woke to silence.
Not the peaceful kind—the wrong kind. The woods outside the house were too still, as if even the insects had decided to hold their breath. Her skin prickled, every instinct she had screaming a single word:
Run.
She sat up slowly, heart beating. Pale dawn light screened through the grimy window, painting the room in washed-out gray. The spot where Kael had stood hours earlier was empty, but the echo of him lingered—his scent, his power, the faint pull of the bond like a taut wire in her chest.
He'd left before sunrise.
Relief and dissatisfaction tangled together in a way she didn't want to examine.
Then she heard it.
A footstep.
Not inside the house. Outside. Careful. Conscious.
Aria slid off the bed without a sound, bare feet cold against the wooden floor. She moved toward the window, looking through a crack in the wall.
Three figures stood among the trees.
Wolves.
Not Kael.
Her stomach plunged.
They weren't trying to hide. That alone told her everything. One leaned casually against a trunk, while the other circled the cabin slowly, boots crunching softly against dead leaves. The third—tall, broad, his posture arrogant—lifted his head and inhaled deeply.
"Found her," he said.
Aria backed away from the window, pulse roaring in her ears. Her first instinct was to reach for Kael through the bond—and the moment she did, pain flared hot and sharp, like touching an open flame.
He felt her fear.
She knew he did.
The cabin door creaked.
"Easy now," the tall wolf yelled. "We're not here to hurt you."
Lie.
Her gaze glanced around the room, landing on the back door—half-rotted, barely hanging on its hinges. If she timed it right—
The front door slammed open.
She bolted.
Aria burst through the back of the cabin just as claws ground wood behind her. She ran blind, branches whipping at her face, lungs burning as adrenaline took over. The bond screamed at her to turn left—Kael—but she forced herself the other way, toward the ravine.
Bad choice.
A blur of motion cut her off. She skidded to a halt, barely avoiding banging into a solid wall of muscle.
The wolf smiled.
"Too slow."
Hands grabbed her arms, twisting them behind her back. She kicked, screamed, fought with everything she had—but she was human, and they were not.
Something sharp bit into her neck.
Her vision blurred.
Kael felt her scream tear through the bond like a blade.
He didn't think.
He shifted mid-run.
Bones cracked, muscles surged, fur flared across his skin as his wolf tore free with a roar that shook the forest. The ground obscured beneath massive paws as he followed the bond's pull—straight toward panic, pain, and blood.
Mine.
The word wasn't gentle. It was war.
He burst into the clearing near the hollow just as one of the wolves dragged Aria toward the edge. Her body was limp, head lolling, blood spotting her collar where a syringe had pierced her skin.
Rage demolished.
Kael hit the first wolf from the side with enough force to snap ribs. The second barely had time to turn before Kael's jaws closed around his throat.
Blood sprayed.
The third ran.
Mistake.
Kael gave chase, shifting back mid-stride, his human form crashing into the fleeing wolf. They rolled down the ravine together, hitting rock and dirt in a brutal tumble.
The wolf didn't get back up.
Kael didn't stop until the threat was ended permanently.
Only then did he turn back.
"Aria."
He dropped to his knees beside her, hands shaking as he gathered her against him. Her skin was cold. Too cold. Her pulse quivered weakly beneath his fingers.
"She's drugged," Rowan said grimly, appearing at his side. "Silver suppressant. Low dose, but—"
"But she's human," Kael finished, throat tight.
Rowan nodded. "It'll hit her harder."
Kael shoveled her up without another word.
Aria drifted in and out of consciousness.
Heat. Arms around her. A heartbeat—strong, steady—beneath her cheek. She tried to move, to speak, but her body wouldn't listen.
"Stay with me," a voice said.
Kael.
The bond glowed faintly now, no longer screaming—guiding. Anchoring.
She focused on that.
"I've got you," he murmured, more to himself than to her. "I swear I do."
When Aria woke again, she was somewhere else.
Stone walls. Soft blankets. The faint scent of herbs and wolves and him. She tried to sit up and immediately regretted it as dizziness washed over her.
"Don't," Kael said quickly.
He was there—sitting beside the bed, elbows on his knees, eyes shadowed and fierce. There was blood on his knuckles. Dried. Dark.
"You were taken," he said. "By my pack."
Her throat narrowed. "I told you they'd come."
His jaw flexed. "And I failed to stop them in time."
Silence lengthened between them, heavy and raw.
"They wanted leverage," he continued. "To control me. To force a claim."
Her hands twisted in the blankets. "So I was bait."
"No," he said sharply. "You were a target."
He looked at her then—not like an Alpha, not like a predator—but like a man who had nearly lost something he didn't know how to live without.
"I won't let this happen again," he said. "But things have changed."
Her pulse quickened. "How?"
Kael leaned closer, voice low and dangerous.
"There is now a faction in my pack willing to spill blood to control me," he said. "And you are at the center of it."
Fear curled in her chest.
"And until that threat is gone," he finished, "you are not leaving my side."
Aria met his gaze, the bond humming between them—no longer just fate.
Now it was survival.
And the war had already begun.