Scottland – The Shiver in the Wind
It started with a scent.
Bitter. Acidic. Familiar in the worst possible way.
Scottland stood frozen in the garden, a basket of herbs in her arms. The sunlight was warm, the air quiet—but her skin prickled like ice.
Her wolf went silent.
Then growled.
She turned slowly, eyes scanning the trees that lined the outer edge of the Gray Pack territory.
Nothing moved.
But she could feel it.
Roger's Pack.
They were close.
Her stomach twisted.
She didn't run.
She didn't scream.
She just walked—slowly, steadily—back toward the house, her heart pounding with each step.
Grant – The Alarm
By the time Scottland made it to the main house, Grant was already waiting.
She didn't have to say a word.
"I smelled them too," he said, voice like flint.
She dropped the basket. "Why now?"
His jaw was tight. "They've known she was here. They waited for her to come into heat. To make their move."
Scottland's heart stuttered. "They're going to try to take me back."
"Not a chance."
He stepped close, placing his hands gently on her shoulders.
"No one is taking you anywhere. Not while I breathe."
She wanted to believe that.
But the terror in her chest didn't fade.
The Pack Gathers
That evening, the Gray Pack Council met under the moonlight.
A warning patrol had confirmed it: scouts from Roger's Pack had crossed into neutral territory, only a few miles from the western ridge.
"They're testing us," Grant said. "Trying to provoke a reaction."
"Or looking for weakness," added Wren.
Scottland sat beside Grant, her hands tucked in her lap. Every instinct in her screamed to hide. To run.
But she didn't.
When the council asked her to speak, she stood.
"I know how Roger thinks," she said. "I know his strategies. He doesn't bluff. If he's near, it's because he plans to take what he believes is his."
The word his burned in her mouth.
"He won't accept that I chose to leave. That I have a right to stay."
"And we won't accept his claim," Grant said.
Scottland looked at him.
At the warriors around the circle.
For the first time, she didn't feel like a pawn.
She felt like part of the pack.
Scottland – The Ghost in the Mirror
That night, sleep didn't come.
She sat in front of the mirror, brushing her hair slowly, watching herself in the flickering candlelight.
Her face was still hers. The curve of her jaw, the gold in her hair. But her eyes…
They looked older now.
Not broken.
Just changed.
She'd lived through pain. Through captivity. Through being treated like less than a person.
Now, she lived through choice.
And that terrified Roger more than anything.
She heard a soft knock.
"Scottland?" Grant's voice came through the door.
"Come in."
He stepped inside, dressed in loose cotton pants and a hoodie, hair tousled from pacing.
"Can't sleep either?" she asked.
He shook his head. "I keep imagining worst-case scenarios."
She smiled, small and tired. "Me too."
He came closer, crouching beside her.
"I won't let them take you," he said again.
"I know."
She reached for his hand.
Held it tight.
And this time, she wasn't the only one trembling.
Grant – Preparing for War
By morning, the western ridge was fortified.
Scouts doubled. Guards rotated in shifts. Warriors from ally packs began arriving quietly at the borders, nodding to Grant with silent understanding.
They were preparing for war.
Grant hated it.
Not the readiness.
But the need.
He'd dreamed of building a future with Scottland. Peaceful. Soft. A world where she could learn to laugh freely, dance barefoot through the fields, and never have to look over her shoulder again.
But Roger threatened that dream.
Threatened her.
And that meant he'd brought the fight to the wrong Alpha.
Scottland – The Letter
The message came at noon.
A hawk, bound with crimson thread and a wax-sealed scroll, landed at the outer gate.
Scottland watched from the balcony as Grant unrolled the letter, eyes scanning quickly, face unreadable.
When he came inside, he handed it to her.
Return the Omega. Or we take her by force.
You have three days.
—Alpha Roger
Her fingers went cold.
She looked up at Grant. "Three days."
He nodded.
"But you're not giving me back."
"Never."
She held the paper.
Torn.
Scared.
But burning.
"I want to face him."
Grant stiffened. "Scottland—"
"I'm not saying go to him. I'm saying… I want to stand in front of him. With you. I want him to see what I've become. That I'm not afraid anymore."
Grant stared at her.
And then he did something she didn't expect.
He smiled.
Fierce.
Proud.
"You won't stand behind me," he said. "You'll stand beside me."
Wren – The Plan
Wren paced the war room, sketching territory lines on the map.
"We'll position archers along the northern ridge. Warriors hidden in the tree line. If they try to breach the southern trail, we'll intercept before they reach the clearing."
Grant folded his arms. "And if Roger demands to see Scottland?"
"Then we show him that she's not a possession. She's our packmate."
Scottland stood quietly behind them, absorbing every word. Strategy. Strength. Loyalty.
The last time she faced Roger, she had been alone.
Now?
Now she had the strongest pack behind her.
And the fiercest Alpha by her side.
The Storm Breaks
The sun never rose on the third morning.
Clouds rolled in thick and gray. Lightning crackled far off over the mountains.
Scottland stood at the western clearing, cloaked in a soft white shawl, flanked by Wren and Grant. Behind them, the pack stood in formation—strong, unshaken.
Then, from the trees—
They came.
Roger first.
Tall. Cold. Eyes like knives.
Behind him, five wolves in dark armor.
He stopped ten paces from the edge of the clearing.
"Surrender her."
Grant didn't blink. "She's not yours."
Roger sneered. "She's omega. You think that means she has choice?"
Scottland stepped forward.
"She does. I do."
Roger's eyes narrowed.
"I remember you, little thing. Always quiet. Always afraid."
She lifted her chin. "Not anymore."
A growl rumbled through the Gray Pack ranks.
Roger took a step closer.
Then stopped.
Because Grant's wolf surged forward, eyes glowing, power radiating off him like thunder.
"You'll leave," Grant said, voice edged in steel, "or you won't leave at all."
Scottland – The Final Stand
Roger laughed. "She's not even claimed. Not marked. You expect me to believe she belongs here?"
"I don't belong to anyone," Scottland said. "But this pack chose me. And I chose them."
"You think choice matters to an Alpha like me?"
She held her ground.
And spoke the words she never thought she'd say.
"I think you're afraid of it."
Roger stilled.
She went on.
"You know that if other omegas see me—free, unmarked, respected—they'll start to wonder. They'll start to question."
She looked him in the eye.
"And then your kingdom falls."
He bared his teeth.
But didn't attack.
Because even monsters know when they've already lost.
Grant – Victory in Silence
Roger turned, snapped an order to his wolves, and vanished into the trees.
Not a word of surrender.
Not an apology.
But he left.
And that was enough.
The pack exhaled.
Grant's hand found Scottland's.
"You did it," he said.
She turned to him.
"No," she whispered. "We did."