LENA'S POV

Something was wrong the moment I stepped into the clearing.

Not the fog. Not the cold. Not even the Ironclaw wolves standing across from us with their silver armbands and predator eyes.

It was the sudden, violent pull in my chest, sharp enough to steal my breath, strong enough to make my knees lock in place.

My wolf snarled inside me, confused and furious, as if it had just recognized something it never should have.

I hadn’t seen him yet. But I knew he was there.

“Keep moving,” my father muttered beside me. His voice was steady, Alpha-calm, but his scent betrayed him. Anger. Blood memory. “Eyes down. No opinions.”

****

The crunch of frozen leaves under my boots sounded too loud in the unnatural silence. No wind. No birds. Just the steady march of Moonfang warriors toward the center of the clearing, and whatever waited for us on the other side.

Peace summits always start like this. Too quiet. Too controlled. Like the world itself was bracing for impact.

I didn’t want to be here. I didn’t want to face the Ironclaw wolves, my father's enemies, my brother’s killers. And I definitely didn’t want to understand why my heart was already reacting to someone I hadn’t even looked at yet.

The clearing opened up ahead, a wide stretch of frozen earth marked by an ancient stone carved with our kind’s symbols. It looked harmless. It wasn’t. The tension hung heavy, thicker than the fog itself.

And on the opposite side of the clearing, I saw them.

Ironclaw.

They stood in formation; dark clothes, silver armbands, tall, broad-shouldered men with eyes like predators. Every single one of them radiated control and danger.

Then I saw him.

Adrian Holt. Alpha of Ironclaw.

I had heard stories about him all my life. The ruthless Alpha who burned villages, who killed without blinking. The man who wore his father’s death like armor. I expected cruelty. I didn’t expect the stillness.

He wasn’t shouting or posturing. He just stood there, gray eyes scanning the clearing with lethal focus. Not calm, coiled. Waiting.

Our gazes didn’t meet. Not yet.

“Welcome,” the Elder from the neutral lands announced, raising his hand. “Today, we gather under the moon’s promise of peace.”

I almost laughed.

Peace.

The last time someone tried peace, my brother came home in pieces.

My father stepped forward, his voice proud and clipped. “Moonfang honors the council’s wish for truce, though we do not forget the blood that was spilled.”

Murmurs rippled through the gathered packs.

Adrian moved next. When he spoke, his voice cut through the noise, low and steady “Ironclaw doesn’t forget either. But we move forward, not back.”

I didn’t mean to look at him.

But something in that voice pulled my gaze up.

And the world shattered.

Our eyes met, and the ground might as well have fallen away beneath me. Heat slammed through my body, brutal and immediate. My breath hitched as the air thickened, alive and electric. My vision blurred at the edges.

Every instinct inside me screamed a single word I had never spoken aloud.

Mate.

No.

No, no, no.

My knees nearly buckled. I forced myself to stay upright, fists clenched hard enough to hurt. Across the clearing, his eyes widened just a fraction, but the shock there mirrored my own. Pain flashed through his expression. Disbelief. Recognition.

Of all the wolves in existence, it had to be him.

This had to be a nightmare.

My father’s scent spiked violently beside me. Rage. Command. Fear. “Lena,” he hissed. “Look away.”

I couldn’t.

Adrian took one slow step forward. Not aggressive. Not cautious. Certain. The invisible bond between us pulsed, tight and insistent, dragging at my chest like a living thing.

“Stop,” I whispered to him, to myself, to the bond tearing me open.

He stopped a few feet away. His expression was locked down, but his voice carried clearly across the clearing. “You feel it too.”

The fragile peace shattered.

Growls erupted from both sides. Warriors surged forward. Someone shouted that it was a trap. Moonfang guards moved to surround me, steel and muscle closing in.

“Step back!” my father roared, Alpha command slamming through the air.

Ironclaw’s warriors tensed, silver light flashing in their eyes. Adrian’s power pressed against my senses, heavy and undeniable. Every heartbeat hurt. The bond was too strong. Too fast.

“This meeting is over!” the Elder shouted. No one listened.

The air filled with the scents of pine, metal, and smoke. My heart pounded so hard it drowned out everything else.

I could still feel him. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat, impossibly synchronized with mine. The warmth of his presence burned under my skin.

“Get her out of here,” my father snapped.

Two warriors grabbed my arms. I jerked free, fury flaring. “Don’t touch me!”

“Lena—”

“I didn’t choose this!” My voice cracked, sharp and raw. “I didn’t ask for this bond!”

The bond flared in response, wild and defiant, as if mocking me for fighting it.

Across the clearing, Adrian stood perfectly still, watching me like he was memorizing every breath I took.

For one insane heartbeat, I thought he might cross the distance. That he might claim what fate had tied between us and damn the consequences.

Then his jaw tightened.

He turned away.

The bond snapped back hard enough to make me stumble. Pain bloomed in my chest — sharp, hollow, devastating.

My father was already barking orders, pulling Moonfang into retreat. I followed numbly, my steps heavy, my senses frayed. The fog closed in around us, swallowing the clearing whole.

I looked back once.

Adrian was gone.

But the bond wasn’t.

It curled deep inside me, permanent and unyielding, a living reminder that the enemy Alpha wasn’t just tied to my fate, he was now my greatest weakness.

And when my father’s voice cut through the fog, cold and final, my blood turned to ice.

“From this moment on,” he said, “you are forbidden to ever see Adrian Holt again.”

I knew then with a certainty that hollowed me out that this war had just become personal.