Devon woke to the scent of antiseptic herbs and the soft crackle of firelight. His vision swam at first, hazy and unfocused, until the dim outlines of a room came into view, the infirmary, judging by the shelves of glass vials and the faint hum of warding spells in the walls.
I must be in the inner hospital of the packhouse.
But what happened?
Who brought me here?
His body ached. Every breath scraped against the edge of exhaustion. The last thing he remembered was the rune, the way it had pulsed beneath his hand, the way the magic had turned wild, and then darkness.
Slowly, painfully, he turned his head.
Alpha...
The Alpha?
The Alpha!
Lucien sat in the chair beside the bed.
He was silent, arms resting loosely on his knees, eyes fixed on Devon with that same unreadable calmness that could either soothe or terrify. The firelight cast sharp lines across his face, too beautiful, too severe, the kind of power that could command without a single word.
For a long moment, neither spoke. Only the quiet sound of the flames filled the space between them.
Devon swallowed hard, his throat dry. "How long… have I been out, Alpha?"
Lucien's gaze didn't waver. "Two days."
Devon's eyes widened slightly.
What?
Did I hear wrong?
"Two?" He tried to sit up, but the moment he moved, his body protested.
Lucien's hand was there instantly, pressing gently against his shoulder, firm but not rough.
"Don't move," the Alpha said quietly. "Your body's still recovering. Whatever you did nearly burned you out. Aren't you aware that it might kill you?"
Devon froze.
The words hit harder than any physical pain.
He looked away, trying to steady his breath, but he could feel the heat rising in his chest, panic, shame, and fear.
"You… saw it."
Lucien said nothing. His silence was answer enough.
Devon's fingers curled tightly in the sheets.
"It wasn't supposed to happen," he whispered. "I didn't mean for anyone to see. I was..."
"...drawing runes using your blood." Lucien's tone was calm, measured, but there was anger beneath the words. "That's not something one does by accident. It was your choice."
Devon's heart pounded. He couldn't meet Lucien's eyes.
"I just wanted to understand it. The power inside me. It… it responds when I bleed. I thought, maybe if I could control it..."
He trailed off. There was no way to explain something even if he didn't understand.
"Maybe?" Lucien stood. He paced slowly toward the window, the firelight glinting off his hair.
"Maybe, I-"
"You should have told me beforehand," he said after a long pause. "You could have died while practicing alone."
Devon forced a bitter laugh, quiet and fragile. "Would that have mattered? I'm just a rogue. A weak omega who doesn't belong anywhere."
Lucien turned sharply, his expression unreadable.
"You saved my son's life," he said. "You risked yours without hesitation. That makes you many things, Devon, but not weak."
Devon blinked up at him, stunned into silence. The sincerity in Lucien's tone was disarming, warm, yet heavy with command. But still, guilt coiled deep inside him.
"You don't understand. This… this power isn't ordinary. It takes a lot of things from me when I use it. It drains my life. And if anyone finds out…" His voice broke, trembling. "They'll hunt me again."
Lucien studied him for a long moment. His eyes softened, just barely, though his voice remained low, deliberate. "Then they won't find out. No one will."
Devon looked up, startled. "What?"
Lucien stepped closer until the faint scent of pine and wolf musk filled the air between them. "No one in this pack will know what you are, not until I understand it myself. The healer has been sworn to silence. So has everyone who saw you that night."
Devon's breath caught. "You're… protecting me?"
Lucien's expression didn't change, but there was something gentler in his gaze now, something that made Devon's heart twist painfully. "You're under my roof. That makes you my responsibility."
"Alpha..."
He turned toward the door, his coat shifting softly around him. "Get some rest. When you fully recover, you'll continue your duties with Elias. But refrain from doing secret experiments."
Devon wanted to protest, to ask why, to demand how long this fragile protection could last, but the words wouldn't come.
Lucien paused at the doorway, glancing over his shoulder. "And Devon…"
Devon met his gaze, startled by the quiet gravity in the Alpha's voice.
"The next time your life is at risk," Lucien said softly, "don't face it alone."
Then he was gone.
The room fell silent once more, aside from the faint hum of magic, the wards settling around the mansion as if acknowledging the unspoken bond now forming between them.
Devon lay back slowly, staring up at the ceiling, his chest tight. The Alpha had seen his secret, yet hadn't condemned him.
He didn't know whether to feel relieved… or terrified. Because for the first time since his exile, someone had chosen to protect him, and that, more than anything, frightened him most.
-
The morning sun filtered through the tall glass windows of the Ravenmoon Alpha's office, casting pale gold across stacks of reports and sealed letters. The air was thick with the faint scent of wax and parchment, and tension.
Lucien sat behind his oak desk, absently tracing the edge of an unopened envelope. The wax seal glimmered faintly crimson under the light, stamped with the insignia of a wolf's head surrounded by flame.
Redstone Pack.
Rowan stood across from him, arms folded, his sharp eyes studying the Alpha's expression.
"It came by courier at dawn," he said quietly. "Formal invitation. The Redstone Alpha requests your presence at his daughter's coming-of-age ceremony."
Lucien's jaw tightened. "His daughter… would that be the same one rumored to be his heir?"
Rowan nodded. "Elara Lorne. Turning eighteen next full moon. They're calling it her ascension ceremony, the night she's to find her fated mate."
Lucien set the letter down with deliberate care, but his fingers were rigid, the knuckles pale. "I assume the entire Northern Alliance was invited?"
"Yes," Rowan said. "But the tone of this..." he gestured toward the letter "...feels personal. They singled you out by name, and the phrasing was… deliberate. 'The Alpha of Redstone extends his warmest invitation to Lord Lucien Hale of Ravenmoon, in hopes of a prosperous union between our bloodlines.'"
Lucien's eyes darkened.
"Union." The word was spoken with quiet disdain.
Rowan leaned closer, voice dropping. "It's a bait, Lucien. Everyone knows Redstone's been restless since their alliance with the southern border packs failed. They're desperate for new ties, and they know Ravenmoon is the strongest pack left unconquered."