The courtyard was alive with movement, wolves shifting mid-stride, claws scraping against stone as warriors surged toward the southern ridge. The alarm horn wailed again, a mournful cry that sent every hair on Aria’s body on edge.

Damian was already barking orders, his voice cutting through the chaos. “Rylan, flank the west! Keep the rogues from spilling into the valley. Toren, guard the young. No one gets past you.”

His Beta and lieutenants obeyed without question, vanishing into the night with their units. But when his gaze found Aria still in the courtyard, his jaw clenched.

“I told you to stay inside.”

Aria lifted her chin, heart racing. “You know they’re after me. If I stay hidden, they’ll only push harder. You need me out there.”

His snarl vibrated through the night. “What I need is for you to survive.”

The bond pulsed between them, hard enough to steal her breath. She swallowed, voice steady despite the fear clawing at her chest. “Then don’t fight without me.”

Before he could argue, a distant chorus of howls split the night. Not Shadowpine voices. Rogues. Dozens of them. The sound curled her blood cold.

Damian cursed under his breath and shifted mid-stride, bones cracking, skin ripping to fur. His wolf exploded forward in a blur of black, massive and brutal, his golden eyes burning like fire.

For a moment, the sheer power of him stole her breath.

Then the bond tugged hard — and she was running after him.

The southern ridge was already a battlefield.

Rogues poured from the treeline in snarling waves, their eyes glowing feral red, their bodies gaunt but vicious. Shadowpine warriors clashed against them, steel flashing, claws raking, snarls echoing into the forest. The air stank of blood and wet fur.

Aria pressed herself against the bark of a pine, searching for Damian. Her heart leapt when she found him — a storm of shadow and muscle tearing through three rogues at once, his fangs snapping bone, his claws leaving nothing but ruin. He was lethal, beautiful, terrifying.

But there were too many.

And then she saw it — Kael.

Not in full view, but a flicker of silver eyes just beyond the treeline, watching. Not striking, not leading the charge. Testing.

A chill skated down her spine. This wasn’t the true attack. It was a probe, meant to measure Shadowpine’s strength… and to lure her.

The bond burned like fire in her veins. Before she realized what she was doing, she stepped from cover.

A rogue lunged, eyes locking to her like a moth to flame. She stumbled back, panic flaring — then her mark ignited, crimson light searing across her skin. The rogue froze mid-lunge, whimpering, body seizing as if invisible claws had wrapped around its throat.

Aria gasped, clutching her arm, the heat nearly unbearable. She didn’t mean to use it. She didn’t even know she could.

But the rogue fell, twitching, smoke curling from its mouth as if burned from within.

Every wolf near her — ally and enemy alike — turned to stare.

And just like that, the battlefield shifted.

“Aria!” Damian’s voice, ragged and furious, cut through the chaos. He was sprinting toward her, golden eyes wide, but too far — too slow.

Another rogue launched from the treeline, this one faster, larger. She raised her hand instinctively, the mark blazing again — but this one didn’t stop. Her power caught it mid-air, slowed it — but her strength faltered.

The beast’s claws raked her arm, slicing deep. She cried out, stumbling backward into the dirt.

Damian hit the rogue like a thunderclap, ripping it apart with savage fury, his growls echoing through the night. Blood sprayed, hot and wet, across his fur. He stood over her, snarling at any wolf that dared come close, his body shaking with rage.

When his wolf looked down at her, golden eyes blazing, she realized — he wasn’t just protecting her. He was on the edge of losing control.

By dawn, the ridge was quiet again. The rogues had fled, their bodies littering the forest floor.

But the real wound wasn’t the dead.

It was the council chamber.

Elders shouted over one another, slamming fists on the long table. “Did you see her? She called fire into her skin, burned that rogue alive!”

“She’s dangerous!”

“She saved warriors you would have lost!”

“Or cursed them all in the process.”

Damian stood at the head of the table, blood still on his hands, golden eyes wild from too little rest. Aria sat at the far end, her arm bandaged, her skin prickling under the weight of their accusations.

“She is not a curse,” Damian growled, voice low but deadly. “She is Shadowpine.”

Marlowe’s lip curled. “No. She’s the match that will burn us to ash. And if you can’t see that—then maybe it’s time we found an Alpha who can.”

The chamber erupted, half in gasps, half in cheers.

Aria’s blood ran cold. They weren’t just doubting her anymore. They were doubting him.

Far beyond the ridge, Kael watched the sunrise with a smile.

“She revealed herself,” he murmured, silver eyes glinting. “Perfect.”

The Bloodfang Alpha chuckled darkly. “And now her own pack questions her.”

Kael’s grin widened, cruel and sharp. “Divide the wolves. Break the Alpha. And when the time comes…” His claws flexed. “The girl will belong to me.”