A knife in the pregnant Luna’s belly.

All evidence points to the Alpha’s scorned concubine.

Althea didn’t do it.

But no one will believe the wolfless omega who was rejected, humiliated, and made his slave.
So she runs—straight into the Red Mist and into the jaws of the one creature that even the Alpha hunting her fears.

---

Thorne Vargan, the Hellhound of the North Clan, swore bloody retribution on everyone responsible for destroying all he had ever known—especially the woman who beheaded his mother.

As fate would twist it, that woman’s daughter stumbles into his hellish domain…

And Thorne is not letting her go.

He claims her. 

As captive.
As leverage.
As vengeance.

But the fates have a different tale to weave as something in him hungers for her in ways far more dangerous than hate.

Her scent tempts him.
Her fear intrigues him.
Her secrets threaten to set his blood—and the entire pack system—on fire.

And while Thorne pins her to his world with claws and shadow, the Alpha she fled is coming.

He wants his little omega back.

I was off my bed, on my feet before the door was slammed open.


A gamma stepped in, sweat on his brow, his terror filling the air. "Alpha—"


Another gamma burst in behind him, his skin ghostly white, his body trembling. "There is—there is—"


It was chaos before I could demand one of them to spit out what could be so urgent and terrifying that they had no words for it. A third gamma joined the fray, breathless. "Something was dropped at the Mist's edge. Alpha—you have to come now."


The zetas were gathered by the time I stepped outside, along with some of the deltas. One gamma walked out into the clearing toward us, his face ashen.


In his hand was a box, one corner damp—with blood, dripping crimson onto the frost-covered ground.


No one said a single word as he walked forward, step by agonizing step, his arms shaking like what he carried weighed a ton. No one closed the distance between us as I took the first step in his direction.


Chapter 32 - Arm By The Mist