The principles of the steelclaw Pack unfolded in Nova's mind like an ancient map-its ink faded yet full of meaning line sketching a notion so unfamiliar it left her unmoored, like a dream she could not touch.
Consent-the word tolled through her head, a strange seed trying to root in the cracked, drought-burned soil of a soul ravaged by years of captivity.
In those mold-sour cells where shifter traffickers had stolen every breath, her omega nature-rare, coveted, easily discarded-had been nothing but merchandise.
The idea of free choice had felt like a cruel joke, an illusion she dared not believe in.
Steelclaw, under Kaelan Draven, was not a pack bound by blood or brutal borders; it was a community built on voluntary loyalty, a radical defiance of shifter norms.
In the world she knew, omegas were tools—healers, bond-weavers, yet offerings to pain and despair. Here, choice was the spine of survival.
Around her, the cave reflected her inner tumult-rough-hewn walls in austere shadow, the fire outside casting narrow blades of light through a vine-curtained cleft, shadows stretching like crooked fingers across damp stone.
The air was heavy with earth and smoke, and every breath felt like the dark was trying to swallow her again.
Curled in a corner, body aching from old wounds, Nova reeled beneath the weight of memory: the crack of a whip, the reek of blood, the aching hollow where Lyra had once burned bright.
Consent-the thought made her restless, a thread of hope snarled with doubt, because in her world, choice had always exacted a ruinous price.
In prison, she had heard whispers of pack politics- grim tales of alphas who ruled with iron fists, loyalty forced by fear, dissent crushed beneath fang and claw.
Omegas like her were prizes or pawns, their wills erased.
The steelclaw Code, rooted in consent, was revelation—a lighthouse lancing through the fog of trauma, sparking the faint belief that somewhere healing could exist without chains, that she might find herself again without the lash of terror.
The alpha who tore her from the cells embodied the paradox.
His strength was undeniable: eyes like molten gold, scent of pine and primitive earth, a presence that moved like a storm and roused her heart to chaos-fear and fascination entwined.
Her thoughts tangled: the terror of alphas who had exploited her, and a strange pull toward him, as if he were a key to the wolf caged within.
His leadership was not tyrannical; he tended to trust. His power was tempered by a creed that prized choice.
The Code was a philosophy of mutual respect, a gauntlet thrown at everything she had ever known, and it struck a spark of defiance against the helplessness sunk deep into her bones.
"Lyra, are you still there?" she whispered into the cave's dark, where wind hissed through stone like a ghost's murmur and raised gooseflesh along her arms.
A faint pulse answered-faraway as a heartbeat in a dream-hinting that the suppressant was thinning.
A low voice drifted from outside, where campfire light danced and threw long shadows over damp ground, carrying the scents of woodsmoke and sweat.
Nova crept to the veiled opening, parting the ivy with trembling fingers.
She peered out, heart thundering with fear and curiosity.
Faces flickered in the glow: a woman tending the flames, quick hands, watchful eyes; a man honing a blade, muscles cording as his gaze swept the dark like a hunter's.
Earth, cedar, resolve mingled with Kaelan's scent-marking them
steelclaw and Nova felt both steadied and unsettled. A strange community.
A place she might belong-or a burden she might become "Any sign?" Kaelan asked as he stepped from the shadow, his rough voice cutting through the night.
The group fell still as his golden eyes swept over them—an unspoken warning that made Nova's heart kick hard.
"Scouts pulled back, but they're circling," the woman replied, calm and flint-true, battle-readiness glinting in her gaze.
kaelan nodded, eyes moving across the pack- then catching on to Nova.
A flicker of worry crossed his face, startling her, stirring something unfamiliar: concern from an alpha. "Are you all right?" he asked, voice tempered steel, and she felt seen, unraveling between suspicion and hope.
"I... don't know," Nova said, stepping from the dark, her body shaking in the fire's warmth. "Everything is strange. I'm not used to... being asked. To be cared for."
"Get used to it," Kaelan said, gaze fastening on hers, certainty softened by a thread of gentleness that sent her pulse skittering.
"Here, your voice matters. No one is forced."
Jessa- the fire-tender-spoke, compassion bright in her eyes. "She's rattled, Kaelan. She needs time to learn the Code. She's endured too much.
"The Code?" Nova asked, curiosity laced with suspicion, the edge in her voice honed by fear.
"What is it? Another net of rules to bind me—to control a broken omega like me?"
"Not a binding," Kaelan said, low and unwavering, his eyes lit with conviction.
Something in that light tugged at her-an invitation to trust. "The steelclaw Code is choice. We are here because we choose to be, not because we are compelled. Our foundation is trust, not fear."
"Then why save me?" Nova pressed, stepping closer, her voice cracking under the weight of old betrayals, her mind seesawing between hope and dread.
"If I can choose, why pull me into your world? What value am I to you?"
"Because you deserve the right to choose," Kaelan answered, voice firm, gaze steady and warm enough to startle her with its heat.
"And because I hate traffickers more than hell itself. You're not a commodity— you're one of us, if you choose it."
The man with the blade glanced up, voice gravel-deep, patience in his eyes. "It's how we live, girl. No one stays by force. You can leave —if that's your path. We'll respect it."
"Leave?" Nova echoed, the word breaking in her mouth as she scanned their faces.
Freedom shimmered before her-so did the terror of being alone. "Go where? I have nothing—no pack, no strength. I'm a shattered omega they threw away.
"Then begin again," Jessa said, laying a steady hand on Nova's shoulder. Warmth seeped through the chill of her spirit.
"We'll help you find yourself. That's the heart of the Code-healing by choice, never coercion." Nova drew back, doubt rising in a wave.
Needles, blows, the void where Lyra lay silent-memories crashed over her. "How do I trust you?" she asked, eyes locked on Kaelan. "All I've known are chains and lies. Consent sounds like a cruel jest."
"Then watch," Kaelan said, stepping closer, resolve gentle but immovable. His nearness hummed in the air, a dangerous pull—a whisper of want in the ruins of pain.
"Our actions will prove it. We move at dawn."
She stood trembling as firelight capered over damp earth and long shadows. The steelclaw Code-choice, respect, healing-it dangled like a lifeline across a chasm.
A distant howl split the night-sharp, taunting-jolting her as her palm pressed to the cave wall.
"What is that?" she whispered, fear spiking, eyes seeking Kaelan, mind spiraling with visions of the traffickers' return.
"Not traffickers," Kaelan said, head cocked to listen, voice low but alert, his gaze sweeping the dark like a ready blade.
"Strays, perhaps. We'll handle it."
"How do I know this isn't a trap?" Nova asked, stepping into the fire's edge, toward him, the tug-of-war between doubt and a fledgling hope tightening in her chest.
"Because if it were, I would never have pulled you out," Kaelan replied, certainty glinting in his eyes— the kind of certainty that drew her like gravity, the first glimmer of an unforeseen bond.
She moved a little nearer to the pack that might redefine her world. His presence struck a dangerous spark-fear braided with heat.
The Code was dawn bleeding through her endless night, but the howls ahead promised a battle she was not yet ready to face.