After I was done with her, I felt a pang of satisfaction deep within my stomach.

The scent of rain still lingered in the air as I stepped out onto the balcony of my quarters. Moonsun was quiet tonight, the only sound being the rustle of the trees in the distance. It was rare for the pack to sleep peacefully. A luxury many had learned to forgo under my leadership.

I gripped the railing, letting the cool night breeze wash over me. My mind should have been focused on the rogues—their relentless attacks on pack borders were becoming more brazen. Yet, tonight, I found myself distracted.

By her. Nyx

She was supposed to be a pawn, a fragile, wolfless daughter of my greatest enemy. I had imagined her arrival would spark nothing but my disdain. I anticipated crushing her spirit quickly, as I had done with so many others.

And yet…

I found myself unsettled. My wolf, Xander, growled in agreement.

Her defiance in the cold room earlier had stirred something within me, something I was not prepared to confront. Her green eyes had glimmered with fear, yes, but there was also a flicker of resistance.

It annoyed me.

How dare she look at me with anything but submission?

I clenched my jaw and turned back toward the room. The fire crackled softly in the hearth, casting shadows across the stone walls. A small knock at the door broke the silence.

"Enter," I commanded, my voice sharper than intended.

Ronan stepped inside, his expression unreadable as always.

“She’s still in the cold room,” he said.

“And?”

He hesitated, his brow furrowing slightly. “She’s different from the others, isn’t she? I see she gave you a hard time.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Explain yourself.”

“I believe it's because she hasn’t broken yet,” he said simply.

A low growl escaped my throat. “She will.”

Ronan nodded, but I caught the flicker of doubt in his eyes before he bowed and left the room.

Alone again, I let out a slow breath. Perhaps he was right. Zara was not as fragile as I had thought. But that didn’t change anything.

I wouldn’t allow it to.

I crossed the room, pouring myself a glass of whiskey. The burn of the liquor did little to ease the storm brewing inside me. Memories of my father’s death, of the injustice that had shaped my every decision, flashed through my mind.

Draven Lunaris had taken everything from me. My family. My future. My innocence.

And now, I would take everything from him.

I downed the drink in one go, slamming the glass onto the table.

Nyx would serve her purpose. She was the means to my revenge. I wouldn’t let her become anything more. I couldn’t afford distractions. Not now.

The Rogues had already tested my borders twice this week, and Draven’s pack wasn’t faring much better. His desperation had been my leverage, but if he fell completely, it would complicate my plans. A crippled enemy was far less satisfying than one broken piece by piece.

The whiskey's burn faded as I turned to the map sprawled across the massive oak table in the center of my quarters. Red pins marked Rogue sightings along our borders, their movements erratic yet intentional. They were probing for weaknesses, testing my defenses, and soon enough, they’d find out why my pack was the most feared in the land.

“Ronan!” I barked, and within moments, my Beta reappeared.

“Yes, Alpha.”

“Summon the war council. We’re moving on the Rogues before dawn.”

He nodded, his stoic expression betraying a flicker of approval. Ronan lived for battle as much as I did, but unlike me, his loyalty wasn’t driven by vengeance. It was the kind of loyalty I had to earn and one I valued above all else.

“And Nyx?” he asked, cautiously.

I paused, my fingers tightening around the edge of the table. “Leave her in the cold room until I return. She needs to learn her place.”

Ronan hesitated briefly, but I silenced any potential protest with a single glare. He bowed and left without another word.

The pack’s war room was brimming with anticipation when I entered. My top warriors surrounded the table, their sharp gazes scanning the map. Calista and Freya lingered near the back, reminding me that their position wasn't just limited to the bedroom, given their father's position in the pack. Yet, they stayed quiet, taking in the gravity of the situation.

“The Rogues have been targeting this sector,” Ronan began, pointing to a cluster of red pins near the southern border. “They’ve been relentless, hitting supply lines and ambushing patrols. If they breach this area, they’ll cut off our access to the river and force us into a defensive position.”

I studied the map, my mind calculating every possible move. “They’re testing us,” I said. “Trying to stretch us thin. They know if we lose access to the river, everything else will crumble. But they’ve underestimated us.”

I tapped a finger on the northern ridge, a steep, rocky terrain that bordered the Rogue territory. “We’ll take a small, elite force through the ridge and hit them where they least expect it. Ronan, you’ll lead the main force to reinforce the southern border. Push them back, but don’t overextend.”

The warriors nodded, their trust in my leadership evident. I had earned their loyalty through countless battles, and tonight would be no different.

The ridge was treacherous, the jagged rocks slick with moisture from the night’s rain. My chosen warriors moved silently behind me, their movement shaped by many years of practice and precision. These men and women were my finest, each one a vessel representing the strength of Crimson Howl.

The first Rogue we encountered never saw us coming, and by that time, Xander, my wolf, had already taken over my body. My claws tore through his throat in one swift motion, his lifeless body crumpling to the ground without a sound. The rest of the patrol fell just as easily, their arrogance costing them dearly.

As we pressed deeper into their territory, the scent of blood and fear thickened in the air. It was intoxicating, reminding me of the power that coursed through my veins.

“Alpha,” one of my warriors whispered, pointing to a clearing up ahead.

I crouched low, signaling for silence. The Rogues’ camp sprawled before us, their numbers greater than I had anticipated. Dozens of them milled about, their laughter and crude conversations carried on the wind.

Perfect.

“Spread out,” I ordered through the mind link, my voice barely above a whisper. “We strike on my signal.”

The minutes that followed were a blur of chaos and violence. My pack descended upon the Rogues like a storm, our coordinated attack catching them completely off guard. I reveled in the brutality, each strike a release of the rage that burned within me.

When the dust settled, the clearing was silent save for the labored breaths of my warriors. The Rogues lay scattered, their bodies testifying to our smartness and strength. We had all shifted back into our human form and had a change of clothing.

“Burn the camp,” I commanded, my voice cold. “Let the rest of them know what happens when they cross Crimson Howl.”

As the flames consumed the remnants of the Rogues’ stronghold, I allowed myself a brief moment of satisfaction. This was only the beginning.

Hours later, as dawn broke over the horizon, we returned to Moonsun victorious. The pack greeted us with cheers, their pride in our triumph palpable. But as I strode through the crowd, my thoughts drifted back to the cold room and the woman waiting there.

Nyx Lunaris.

Xander always growls whenever her name comes to my mind. He is eager for revenge as much as I am. It always makes me smirk.

Though this time was different. I wanted to spend the night with someone different. Someone new. Other than Calista and Freya. The only person who filled the gap was Nyx.

I pushed the thought aside as I entered my quarters, the weight of the night’s events settling over me. There was still much to be done about her, but for now, I allowed myself a moment of quiet.

Soon enough, I would deal with Nyx.

And she would learn what it meant to be mine.

The cold room door creaked open as I entered, the metallic groan cutting through the oppressive silence. Nyx was curled in the corner, her knees drawn to her chest, her head resting against the damp stone wall. She looked up at me, her green eyes sharp despite the exhaustion etched across her face.

“Get up,” I commanded, my tone low but brooking no argument.

She didn’t move, her defiance flickering like a dying ember.

“I said, get up.” My voice rose, echoing against the stone walls.

She flinched but slowly pushed herself to her feet. The dress she wore clung to her frame, damp from the chill of the room, but she held her head high. I hated the way she looked at me, like she was still daring to challenge me, even now. I would love to see her try.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked, her voice trembling but steady enough to draw my attention.

I stalked toward her, closing the distance between us. “You don’t get to ask questions, little Nyx. You’re here because your father is a coward. You’re just part of the agreement."

Her jaw tightened, and I could see the effort it took for her not to look away. “So that’s it? I’m just a tool to be exchanged?”

I tilted my head, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of my lips. “Exactly.”

For a moment, the room fell silent. Her gaze dropped, and I expected her to shrink back, to cower as so many others had before me. But when she looked up again, her green eyes burned with a quiet fury that caught me off guard.

“Then you’re no better than he is.”

The words hit harder than I cared to admit, and for a brief second, I felt the walls I’d built around myself crack. But I wouldn’t let her see that.

“Careful,” I warned, stepping closer until there was barely an inch between us. “You don’t want to test me.”

Her breath hitched, and I could see the fear returning to her eyes. Good. Fear was easier to control.

“Get cleaned up,” I said finally, stepping back. “You’re to dine with me tonight.”

Her brows furrowed in confusion. “Why?”

“Because I said so,” I snapped, turning toward the door. “And you’d do well to remember your place.”

I didn’t wait for her response. The door slammed shut behind me, the sound echoing down the empty corridor as I made my way back to my quarters.

The dining hall was quiet when Nyx arrived, escorted by one of my guards. She looked different, her golden hair freshly combed and her dress simple yet elegant. But it was her expression that caught my attention, wary but unbroken.

“Sit,” I said, gesturing to the seat across from me.

She hesitated before taking the chair, her movements deliberately slow.

The meal passed in tense silence, the clatter of silverware the only sound between us. I could feel her eyes on me, studying me, trying to understand the man who had taken her from everything she knew.

“You don’t eat much,” I remarked, breaking the silence.

“I’m not hungry,” she replied flatly.

I leaned back in my chair, regarding her with a cool gaze. “You should eat. You’ll need your strength.”

“For what?”

A smirk tugged at my lips. “You’ll see.”

Her hand tightened around the fork, and I could almost feel the anger simmering beneath her calm façade. It was amusing, really; this girl who thought she could challenge me.

But there was something else, too. Something I couldn’t quite place.

“You’re trying to act strong,” I said suddenly, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

She looked up, startled. “What?”

“Strong. Like you're special,” I repeat, my tone sharper now. “From the others. You’re not what I expected.”

Her gaze dropped, and for a moment, I thought she might say something. But instead, she pushed her plate aside and stood.

“May I go now?”

I studied her for a long moment before nodding. “Go wait for me in my room, Zara. You're going to wish you ate enough food."

She didn't respond as she let herself be led by my men.