Aurelia
The gates of the Bloodfang training camp creaked as I approached — dressed in rags, hood drawn, scent cloaked.
Just like the Witch Alpha taught me.
"They must never know you until it's too late."
This was the pack that held Darius's sons — the next generation of traitors. The same bloodline that watched me die.
Now I would walk among them.
"You lost, girl?" a guard barked, stepping into my path.
I lowered my hood slightly, just enough to show dirt on my face and fear in my eyes. The act had to be perfect.
"I'm an orphan. My village was raided. I need shelter," I whispered.
He sneered. "We don't take in strays."
But another voice cut through the air like silver.
"Let her in."
I turned slowly.
And there he was.
Tall. Sharp-jawed. Hair like ink. Eyes like a thunderstorm over frozen water.
He looked exactly like him.
His son.
The boy who had his father's face… and my death in his blood.
Cassian
I hated my father.
Every wolf whispered how he'd once burned a Luna alive — how he'd silenced a mate bond to keep power.
They thought I didn't hear.
But I did.
I heard everything.
And when I saw her — the girl at the gate — something in me pulled sharp and deep.
Not attraction. Not curiosity.
Something older.
Something that made my wolf drop to its knees and whisper, Mine.
I shook the thought away.
"Put her in the East Wing," I said. "Away from the Alpha's house."
"Cassian—" the guard started.
"Do it."
I walked away before I saw her smile.
Because if I had, I would've recognized something in it:
Triumph.
Aurelia
They put me in a stone room. Locked. Cold. Easy to escape.
I waited until nightfall, then traced my fingers along the moon tattoo hidden under my sleeve. My rebirth mark. A gift from the Goddess.
And it pulsed.
"He's here," I whispered.
"His son is here."
And he didn't know me yet.
But he would.
They all would.
I lay back on the thin straw mat and stared at the ceiling.
Not to sleep.
Just to imagine every way I'd make them pay.
Meanwhile… in the Alpha's House
Darius
The wind howled outside the window. The candles flickered.
"She's returned," he muttered.
"What?" his Beta asked.
"A presence I haven't felt since…" He shook his head.
"It's impossible. She died. I watched her burn."
But the scent in the air disagreed.
It was the scent of ash. Of witchcraft. Of something too ancient to stay dead.
"Double the patrols," he ordered. "There's a storm coming."
What he didn't know was…
The storm was already inside his walls.