The rain had lessened, but the forest still steamed with the aftermath of violence. The scent of blood hung heavy in the damp air, mingling with wet earth and smoke. Nova stumbled beside Kaidan through the underbrush, her breath coming out in ragged gasps. The forest seemed endless, the trees closing in like silent witnesses to the chaos they’d left behind.

Kaidan moved ahead of her, every muscle in his back taut, his senses scanning for pursuit. His wolf form had receded, but traces of it lingered—the faint glow in his green eyes, the rigid control in his movements, the raw energy that made the air hum around him.

Nova could still feel her own wolf simmering beneath her skin. It frightened her—the way her heart quickened at the scent of blood, the way her instincts screamed for dominance, for control. She pressed a trembling hand against a tree trunk, grounding herself as flashes of memory surged through her mind. Her father’s voice echoed faintly: Control it, or it will destroy you.

Kaidan turned back when he heard her stumble. “You’re pushing too hard,” he said, his voice rough but not unkind. “Your body’s still adjusting. You need to rest.”

Nova shook her head. “No. If we stop now, they’ll find us. You said Kane’s retreat was temporary.”

His jaw flexed. “He’ll come. But not tonight.”

She met his gaze, rain dripping from her hair. “You don’t know that.”

“I do,” Kaidan said, his tone darkening. “He likes the hunt too much.”

Nova swallowed hard, her mind still reeling. “He said I was the reason you were banished. Was that true?”

Kaidan froze. The question hung between them like a blade. For a long moment, all she heard was the rain whispering through the leaves. Finally, he said, “Your father needed a scapegoat. Someone to bear the weight of his mistakes. I was convenient.”

Nova’s chest tightened. “Because of me?”

Kaidan’s eyes met hers—full of pain, loyalty, and something far more dangerous. “Because I refused to kill you.”

The world seemed to tilt. “What?” she breathed, stepping back.

He exhaled slowly, his voice low. “You were a child when the council discovered what you were—what you could become. Your father wanted to keep it secret, but others in the pack saw it as a threat. They wanted it to end before it could begin.” His gaze darkened. “Your father gave the order. I couldn’t obey.”

Nova’s knees went weak. The air around her seemed to constrict. “He… wanted me dead?”

Kaidan’s silence was answer enough.

A wave of rage and grief tore through her. The man who had called himself her father—the Alpha who had ruled with pride and power—had tried to erase her existence. And Kaidan had paid the price for saving her.

“I don’t understand,” she whispered. “Why save me? You lost everything.”

Kaidan stepped closer, his expression unreadable. “Because I saw what you’d become. Not the weapon your father feared—the leader he never could be.”

Their eyes locked, and something deep within her responded—not just gratitude, but recognition. A bond forged not by blood, but by choice.

Before she could speak, a rustle in the trees drew Kaidan’s attention. He tensed instantly, eyes flashing gold. Nova caught it too—the faint scent of smoke and wet fur carried on the wind.

“They’re tracking us,” he muttered, scanning the shadows.

Nova clenched her fists. “Then we fight.”

He turned to her, his voice low but firm. “Not yet. You’re not ready to face him—or what’s coming.”

“What’s coming?” she demanded.

Kaidan hesitated, then said, “War.”

A distant howl pierced the night—not Kane’s, not their father’s. A third voice, sharp and commanding. Kaidan’s expression hardened. “That’s not one of ours.”

Nova’s pulse raced. “Then who—?”

“Another pack,” Kaidan said grimly, his gaze lifting toward the dark horizon. “Word’s spreading. The Alpha’s daughter lives.”

The rain had stopped entirely now, leaving only the soft hiss of mist curling around their feet. Somewhere deep in the forest, another howl answered—closer this time.

Nova met Kaidan’s gaze. The fear that once gripped her was gone, replaced by something fiercer. “Let them come,” she said quietly. “I’m done running.”

Kaidan’s lips curved, not in amusement but in something like pride. “Then it’s time you learned what it means to be Alpha.”

He turned toward the dark woods, motioning for her to follow. Lightning flickered across the sky, illuminating the two of them standing side by side—no longer prey, but predators preparing for the storm to come.