A cool breeze kissed my face. My eyelids fluttered open. Above me, a vast, impossibly blue sky stretched, dotted with wisps of cloud.

Not the steel-grey ceiling of my uncle’s dungeons. Not the oppressive canopy of the Forbidden Forest. This was open. This was freedom.

I closed my eyes again, the memory of last night slamming into me. The terror. The crash. The clicking lock. The screams. And then him. His impossible appearance. His deep, resonant voice.

Lastly, that name. Salome.

“I’m Salome”, I reminded myself, a silent mantra, a desperate prayer. Now and forever. The lie was my shield, my only chance.

I opened my eyes and looked at him. He held me effortlessly in his arms, as if I weighed nothing.

His face, even in the soft morning light, was a sculpted masterpiece of raw power. A broad, high forehead gave way to angular cheekbones. His jaw, prominent and chiseled, spoke of unyielding will. His nose was straight and his lips seemed carved from ancient stone. Beneath thick, dark brows, his eyes—those startling amber pools—held an intensity that burned.

He wasn’t just large; he was monumental. His neck flowed into shoulders that seemed to span the horizon. His chest, a wall of muscle, rose and fell with a steady, powerful rhythm. His arms, wrapped around me, were like tree trunks, his hands thick, strong, his fingers long, capable. Every inch of him screamed danger, yet held a strange, magnetic pull.

My gaze drifted past his shoulder. A weathered wooden sign stood by the roadside, barely visible through the morning mist. Faded paint spelled out: WELCOME TO ISLE FALLS. Below it, smaller script: The City of Mists.

Isle Falls! It was miles, hundreds of miles, from HatePorth, from the familiar horror of the packlands. A shudder ran through me. How?

Then I saw him. A figure stood motionless beneath a towering pine, his eyes fixed on me. Dressed in a black, worn-out leather jacket.

"You're awake," his voice rumbled, soft, yet profound. "My Salome."

My breath hitched. His Salome? The words were a possessive claim, tightening an invisible noose around my throat. I swallowed.

"There's…someone," I whispered. I wanted to be safe. So far he could protect me.

He neglected. "I know. That's my brother."

My heart hammered against my ribs. A frantic drumbeat of terror and dawning horror. His brother. It was happening. They were out. All of them. The ritual had failed. One of the old alphas, surely this one, had refused the blood price, had failed to be sated. Now, the others would follow. Chaos was out. The ancient, bloodthirsty pack.

"Things have changed, Salome," he said and lowered me. “It's been over 200 years. Isn't it?”

My muscles failed me and my knees buckled. It had been hours. I have passed out. Or perhaps, he knocked me out. Whatever!

I didn't know what to say to that. Over 200 years and he's this young? And he expected that Salome from then on would still be alive. It all felt stupid to me.

His gaze swept over the modern road and the distant glint of a power line. He turned his eyes back to mine. "Where do you stay now?"

My mind reeled. My house? Two centuries. Two centuries they had slept. How could I tell him? How could I begin to explain the passage of time, the shift of worlds? And who was Salome? The name felt like a brand, yet held no meaning for me.

A thought surged within me. “What would he do if he found out that I'm not Salome?”

Fear seeped into my bones and made my muscles scream to flee. I began to step back, slowly, instinctively.

"Salome," he called. He took a step towards me to close the distance I was creating. Then Another.

My survival instinct screamed. I turned to sprint.

But before my second step could land, he was suddenly, impossibly, before me. A solid, unyielding wall of flesh and power.

My momentum carried me forward and I crashed into him like a stone hurled against a mountain. The impact knocked the air from my lungs. I crumpled, falling to the damp earth with a choked cry.

My head reeled.

I pushed myself up, scrambling. My hands clawed at the rough ground, desperate to escape. My legs pumped again. I launched myself forward, blindly.

Thump.

I crashed into another figure. Another impossibly solid, unyielding body. My breath caught. My head snapped up.

I looked into his face. The second one. The one that had been stalking. He was a mirror image of the other one, the one that saved me.

The same sharp features, the same predatory grace, the same haunting amber eyes. But his hair was longer, a dark cascade framing his powerful face.

His eyes, fixed on mine, held the same unsettling intensity, a hunger that chilled me to the bone.

"Salome," the new guy called. His voice was a whisper. A mere breath of sound, yet it resonated deep within me, unlike Casimir’s booming rumble.

My heart pounded. My throat tightened. I am not Salome, my mind screamed. I wish I could say it.

But the words clawed at my tongue.

Two of the Old World Pack, two formidable Alphas called me Salome. I should be safe. But again, I wondered. What would happen if I dared to utter the truth? Would their ancient recognition shatter? Would the fragile protection this name offered vanish, replaced by the swift, brutal death meant for the omegas? I swallowed the lie again, it settled heavy and bitter in my mouth.

"She's mine now, I got her out of her forest. Back off, Cassius."

Cassius. The name echoed in my mind. So, the quiet one. The whisperer. Cassius.

"She was never yours, Casimir," Cassius’s voice was still a whisper, almost inaudible. So he shouted, a guttural roar that ripped through the quiet morning. "She was never yours!"

I looked here and there. Cassius and Casimir. Both claiming me. My head swelled. I wish I could run.

"They are coming for her," Cassius’s voice dropped back to a whisper. His amber eyes, though fixed on Casimir, flickered towards me. "For the first time, let's work together to protect her. We can kill each other after all."

My blood ran cold. They are coming for her. My mind raced. Who? The other five? The remaining alphas of the Old World Pack, woken from their slumber, hungry, enraged? I looked between the two towering figures, their faces grim, their eyes alight with a shared, ancient understanding.

Casimir nodded, his jaw tight.

"Show us the city," Casimir commanded, turning his attention to me. We would like to get a house. Cars. New clothes."

House? Cars? New clothes? While my life was in danger? How would I survive five other alphas when only two were beside me?

I kept mute, only looking at them. Are they crazy?

A single car, a beat-up sedan, approached in the distance. My mind scrambled for a plan. How could I navigate this? Two centuries. These ancient beings, utterly lost in a world they didn’t know. And they expected me to be their guide while death was chasing me.

Casimir hailed the car, raising a hand. The driver, a bewildered human, hesitated, then screeched to a halt.

Before the man could react, Cassius yanked the driver from his seat, tossing him unceremoniously to the side of the road. The man landed with a startled yelp.

“Drive,” said.

I hesitated for a split second, then slid into the driver's seat.

Beside me was a low growl. Casimir and Cassius, two gods in leather jackets, were jostling, pushing, and vying for the front passenger seat.

Something told me to zoom off. But to where?

It was a primal display, both ridiculous and terrifying. Casimir, with a final, forceful shove, emerged victorious, sliding into the seat beside me, his muscular frame filling the small space. Cassius, with a frustrated sigh that was more a hiss, resigned himself to the back.

"You should give up fighting me, Cassius," Casimir taunted with a smirk playing on his lips. "You can never win."

I paused. Listening.

"You took my voice," Cassius whispered from the back. "But you won't take my heart. She belonged to me."

“We shall see,” Casimir said.

My hand trembled as I inserted the key and turned the ignition. The engine sputtered, then roared to life, a comforting mechanical sound in this world of ancient power. I shifted into drive, pressing the accelerator. The car lurched forward.

I found out. They both loved Salome. If I were Salome, they both loved me. An interesting, terrifying revelation.

But what was coming for Salome? What, exactly, was coming for me if I'm Salome?