​🔹 THORNE
​"Alpha, you need to come now."
​The Gamma's voice was urgent as he intercepted me in the hall. I didn't ask questions; I followed. My boots thudded against the stone, each step heavy with the dread that had been trailing me since Althea woke up.
​As we reached the eastern wing, her voice carried through the open door—firm, defiant, and laced with a pride that made Umbra howl.
​"Yet your Alpha marked me."
​Umbra pranced on his paws within my mind, his tail wagging with a primal, puppy-like yipping. She likes us, he echoed. She claimed us.
​The door hadn't even finished swinging shut before Ivanna was across the room. She didn't move with her usual clinical grace as the High Delta; she moved like a woman drowning.
​"Thorne," she gasped, her hands reaching for my leather vest, her eyes searching mine with a terrifying, wide-eyed hope. "Tell me what she meant. Althea... she showed a mark. Tell me it's a trick. Tell me the Allied girl is lying."
