Lucian’s POV

The portal was alive. To anyone else, it might have looked like a shimmering doorway, but I knew better. It wasn’t just an opening—it was a wound, a living tear carved between worlds. Asher and I stepped into it, and the London alley vanished, swallowed whole. My stomach lurched as though invisible claws dragged me through the Veil, my body stretched and pulled until my senses warped into colors I couldn’t even name.

First came the cold—bone deep, curling around my lungs, stealing every breath. Then fire followed, liquid moonlight coursing through my veins, hot enough to burn yet impossible to resist. Whispers slithered into my ears, voices old as the first howl. They spoke in the ancient tongue, promising power, warning of danger. The Veil never allowed a crossing without demanding a price. But price or not, I had no choice.

The world snapped back with a violent crack.

I stumbled forward, boots sinking into damp earth, the scent of pine, wet stone, and the metallic tang of magic filling my lungs. I raised my eyes to Lycanthra’s sky. Deep violet and silver bled together, the moon massive and low, its glow draping the jagged mountains and black forests in a ghostly halo. My chest tightened. Home. After years away, I was finally back.

Asher swayed beside me, breath ragged but grin sharp. “That never gets old,” she muttered. “Feels like my soul got wrung out and shoved back in.”

I gave her a sideways glance. “It’s supposed to feel like that.” My gaze swept the horizon, the land both familiar and foreign. My wolf stirred restlessly under my skin. Too long… I had been gone too long. And now, I would have to face the family I’d abandoned.

“You finally returned.”

The voice froze me.

From the mist, a tall man stepped forward, iron-gray hair catching the moonlight, shoulders broad enough to blot out the glow. His golden eyes locked on mine sharp, assessing, unmistakable. My breath caught in my throat.

“Father.”

Marcus Wolfe carried his Alpha aura like a second skin, heavy and commanding, the kind of presence that bent wolves to their knees. At his side walked the woman whose features had haunted my memories- silver hair, sharp eyes softened by quiet grace. My mother.

“Lucian,” Liora Wolfe whispered, her voice laced with both relief and reproach. She cupped my face briefly, warmth and ache colliding in my chest, before she let her hand fall. “You’ve been gone too long.”

I swallowed, my wolf pacing, unsettled. “There were reasons.”

“There are always reasons,” Marcus said, his voice edged in steel. “But you’ve returned at a dangerous time.”

My jaw tightened. “Where is Tobias?”

“He hasn’t been here for years,” my mother answered quietly.

Marcus’s eyes narrowed, gold glinting. “The Blood Moon approaches. And you…” His gaze flicked toward Asher with faint disapproval. “…bring company.”

Asher smirked, unbothered. “Nice to meet you, sir.”

Liora arched a brow, unsure how to answer. Instead, she said, “A group waits outside. Kael and the others are ready.”

I nodded once, forcing my emotions down, burying the tension coiling in my chest. Duty first. Always duty.

We followed my parents through the mist until the clearing opened, and my pack assembled. Memories surged sharp and raw, as if I’d stepped back into a life I had half-forgotten.

Kael Draven stood at the front, scarred and scowling as always, my Beta and oldest ally. Ronan Vale lurked at his side, lean, eyes sharp with the restless edge of an enforcer who missed nothing. Lyra Wolfe, my cousin, practically bounced with energy, her grin both reckless and defiant. Eira Frostfang, Alpha of the Northern Pack, held herself with icy pride, her loyalty to me a hard-won victory despite our clans’ rivalry. And there was Thorne Nightfall, the mercenary wolf whose reputation for bloodshed was matched only by his unshakable loyalty—to me, and no one else.

Kael stepped forward, dipping his head. “Alpha. About time you showed.”

I smirked faintly. “Good to see you too.”

“Enough reunions,” Eira said sharply. “Tobias’s scouts have been spotted near Blackfang Cliffs. He’s moving faster than expected.”

Kael folded his arms. “That’s why we need a plan. The full moon is less than a week away. If Tobias takes the Hollow before then, we lose the high ground.”

We crouched around a rough map scratched into the dirt. Kael’s voice was steady, tactical. “We’ll split into two groups. Eira and Thorne take the northern flank. Lyra and I guard the southern ridge. Lucian, you and Asher take the center with Ronan. The objective: hold the Hollow, cut Tobias off before he reaches the Moon Altar.”

Asher leaned in, smirk tugging her lips. “And if he’s already there?”

I didn’t hesitate. “Then we rip him out.”

Agreement rippled through the group, a low hum of anticipation and resolve. For the first time in years, I felt it again—the weight of my pack, the bond thrumming like blood in my veins. I felt… home.

But under the unity, something in the air gnawed at me. A discordant note beneath the song of battle. Wrong. Off. Dangerous.

Liora’s hand rested lightly on my shoulder, voice soft but steady. “You should rest, Lucian.”

I looked at her sharply. “What do you mean?”

“Old powers stir in Lycanthra,” she murmured, her eyes shadowed. “Ones we thought long dead.”

Before I could press her, a howl shattered the night. Low, guttural, and not one of ours.

Every wolf froze.

Kael’s lips curled in a snarl. “That’s not from our pack.”

My wolf surged, claws raking at the inside of my chest. I knew. I didn’t want to admit it, but I knew.

By stepping through the Veil, I hadn’t just come home.

I had walked straight into Tobias’s trap.

And the night was only beginning.