Emma

A massive shape emerged from the trees on the Silver Ridge side of the border. A wolf twice the size of any I'd ever seen, with silver-gray fur that seemed to glow in the moonlight.

Our eyes met.

The world tilted.

My incomplete wolf howled inside me, suddenly awake, suddenly reaching for something she recognized. Heat flooded through my chest, so intense I gasped. For one heartbeat, I felt whole.

The giant wolf's lips pulled back, showing teeth, and he moved to stand directly on the border. A warning. A protection.

Richard's face went pale. "A Lycan."

Lycan? Those were myths. Legends. The original wolves were so powerful.

The silver wolf's growl was so deep I felt it in my bones. Every Dark Moon warrior took a step back.

"Emma," Dad whispered urgently. "Cross the border. Now. He'll protect you."

I didn't understand what was happening. Didn't understand why this wolf made my chest ache. Didn't understand why my incomplete wolf was suddenly strong enough to break free.

But I ran.

I shifted mid-stride, my wolf smaller than she should be, weaker than she should be, but moving. I ran past Owen. Past Dad. Past Richard, whose hand reached for me.

The silver wolf moved with me, matching my pace, keeping himself between me and Dark Moon Pack.

My paws hit Silver Ridge territory.

Safety.

The silver wolf shifted, and I saw him for the first time as a man. Tall. Powerful. Silver-gray eyes that looked at me like I was the answer to a question he'd been asking for years.

"You're safe now," he said, his voice like thunder and honey. "I'm Marcus Drake. Alpha of Silver Ridge Pack."

Behind us, Richard stood at the border, fury and obsession twisting his face.

"This isn't over, Emma," he called. "You belong to me. The blood moon will prove it."

Marcus stepped in front of me, his presence so commanding that Richard actually flinched.

"She belongs to no one," Marcus said quietly. "And if you cross this border, I will end you."

The two Alphas stared at each other, and I felt the weight of something huge and dangerous hanging in the balance.

Then Richard smiled. Slow. Terrible.

"Six months, Emma. When your wolf completes her transformation and you finally understand what you are, you'll see. You'll come back to me. They always do."

He turned and left, his warriors following.

Dad and Owen crossed the border, both wounded but alive.

And I stood there, my incomplete wolf finally quiet, staring at the silver-eyed Alpha who had just saved my life.

Not understanding that he'd also just claimed my soul.

Marcus Drake's house wasn't what I expected.

I'd pictured something cold and imposing, all stone and status. Instead, it was warm. Lived-in. There were toys scattered across the living room floor and crayon drawings stuck to the refrigerator with magnets.

"Sorry about the mess," Marcus said, gathering up stuffed animals. His hands were gentle with them. Careful. "My daughter doesn't believe in cleaning up before bed."

Daughter. He was a father. Somehow that made the massive Lycan who'd faced down Richard Stone even more confusing.

Dad sat on the couch, Dr. Elena Cross stitching up the gash across his ribs. Owen paced by the window, still wound tight, checking for threats. Neither of them had looked at me since we arrived.

They were hiding something. Something big.

"Emma, you should sit," Dr. Cross said without looking up from Dad's wound. She was older, maybe early forties, with sharp eyes that seemed to see too much. "You're favoring your left side."

I was. The shift and run had exhausted my wolf completely. She'd retreated so deep I could barely sense her now. That emptiness in my chest was back, worse than before.

"I'm fine."

"She's stubborn," Owen muttered. "Always has been."

"Stubbornness keeps you alive," Marcus said quietly. He was watching me with those silver eyes, and I felt exposed. Seen. "But so does knowing when to accept help."

He moved closer, and my breath caught. That scent hit me again. Wild honeysuckle and storm rain. My weak wolf stirred slightly, reaching for him even though she had no strength left.

What was wrong with me?

"Let me see," Marcus said gently.

I lifted my shirt slightly, revealing the bruise blooming across my ribs. His fingers brushed my skin, checking for breaks, and heat shot through me. Not pain. Something else entirely.

Marcus pulled his hand back like I'd burned him.

"Bruised, not broken," he said, his voice rougher than before. "You heal slower than you should."

"I know." The words came out bitter. "My wolf is weak. Has been for months."

"Your wolf isn't weak." Dr. Cross tied off Dad's stitches and turned to me. "She's incomplete. There's a difference."

"What does that mean?"

The adults exchanged looks in silence.

"Someone better start talking," I said, my voice shaking with exhaustion and frustration. "Richard said I'm changing into something. He mentioned the blood moon. He acted like I'm some kind of prize he's been waiting to claim." I looked at Dad. "And you said Mom ran from him. Ran from what?"

Dad closed his eyes. Pain crossed his face, old and deep.

"Your mother," he started, then stopped. His jaw worked like the words were fighting him. "Your mother was researching something dangerous. Something most packs have tried to forget."

"Lycan bloodlines," Marcus said quietly.

I looked at him. "You're a Lycan. A real one."

"Yes."

"They're supposed to be extinct. The original wolves, before we evolved into modern packs. Stronger, faster, more powerful." I remembered the legends from childhood. Stories are told to scare young wolves into behaving. "But they died out centuries ago."

"Not died out," Dr. Cross corrected. "Hidden. Bred into smaller populations. Diluted over generations until most packs forgot what we came from." She looked at me steadily. "But some bloodlines carry dormant Lycan DNA. Under the right circumstances, with the right catalyst, that DNA can activate."

The room tilted slightly. "You're saying I'm..."

"You're a Lycan," Owen said, his voice cracking. "Or you will be. In six months, during the blood moon eclipse, your incomplete wolf will transform. You'll become what Mom was researching. What she died trying to protect."

No. No, that was impossible. I was weak. My wolf could barely sustain a shift. I wasn't special or powerful or—

"Mom knew?" I whispered.

Dad nodded. "She knew before you were born. She'd been tracking Lycan bloodlines for years, trying to help wolves like you. Like Marcus." He glanced at the Alpha. "When Richard's mate died six years ago, something in him broke. He became obsessed with finding Lycan descendants, with building power. Your mother refused to tell him what she'd discovered."

"So he killed her."

The words hung in the air like poison.

"We can't prove it," Dad said. "But yes. I believe he poisoned her at that gathering. Made it look like an accident. And then he waited. Watched you. When he realized you were showing signs of incomplete transformation, he knew."

"That's why he's been circling you," Owen added. "Why did he offer Dad his old position back in exchange for..." He couldn't finish.

"For permission to court me." Nausea rolled through my stomach. "He wants to claim me before I transform. Before I'm strong enough to refuse."

"He wants to use you," Marcus said, his voice carrying an edge of fury. "Force a mate bond while you're vulnerable. Use your power to challenge the Council and other Alphas. Build an empire."