POV: Kieran Ashwood / Aria Blackthorn
KIERAN
The pills weren't working anymore.
Kieran stared at the suppressants in his palm—three white tablets that should keep his berserker wolf caged. He'd been taking double doses since Aria arrived, and they barely touched the rage anymore.
His wolf wanted out. Wanted her.
He swallowed the pills dry and looked at himself in the mirror. Golden hair perfectly styled. Amber eyes warm and charming. The smile that made people trust him instantly.
All lies.
Underneath was the monster his parents had spent twenty years hiding. The berserker variant that craved violence and blood. The thing that would destroy the Ashwood family's perfect political image if anyone knew the truth.
You're broken, his father had said when Kieran's wolf first emerged at thirteen. But we'll fix you. We have to fix you.
They hadn't fixed him. They'd just taught him to perform.
But Aria... with Aria, the monster went quiet. The bond between them soothed the rage in ways no drug ever could.
He needed her. Not just wanted—needed.
And he'd watched Dante climb through her window last night, seen the tension between them, felt the jealousy burn through his veins like poison.
Enough watching. Time to act.
ARIA
I was destroying practice dummies in the training yard when Kieran found me.
You're holding back, he said, leaning against the fence. Sunlight caught his golden hair, making him look like something from a fairytale.
But I'd learned fairytales were just pretty lies.
I'm not holding back. I'm human, remember? Limited strength.
Not talking about physical strength. He pushed off the fence and walked closer. You've got all this Nullwolf power and you're terrified to use it.
I used it yesterday. Made Dante's wolf submit in front of everyone.
His jaw tightened at Dante's name. By accident. What if you could control it? Use it as a weapon instead of a panic response?
I stopped hitting the dummy. You're offering to teach me?
I'm offering to help you survive. He moved behind me, close enough that I felt his warmth. You need every advantage you can get. Let me give you one.
I should have said no. Should have kept distance between us.
But he was right. I needed to master this power or it would destroy me.
Fine. What do I do?
KIERAN
Teaching her was torture and heaven at once.
Kieran guided her through meditation, helping her sense the pack bonds around them—invisible threads connecting wolves to wolves, creating the hierarchy that defined their world.
It required touch. His hands on her shoulders. His chest against her back. His voice low in her ear.
The mate bond between them roared to life.
Feel them? he asked, trying to stay focused. The connections?
Yes. Her voice was breathless. It's like... strings of light. Hundreds of them.
Now sense your own bonds. The three connecting you to us.
She went still. He felt the exact moment she found them—three threads blazing brighter than all the others, connecting her heart to his, to Dante's, to Zane's.
They're so strong, she whispered.
Because we're meant to be yours. The words slipped out before he could stop them.
She turned in his arms, amber meeting gold. Kieran, what are you hiding? Your wolf—there's something dark in it.
His careful mask cracked. Nothing. I'm not
Don't lie to me.
The command in her voice, the demand for truth—it triggered something in his wolf.
The berserker surged.
Kieran's eyes went black. Control shattered. The monster he'd been suppressing for years exploded to the surface with violent hunger.
He lunged at her.
ARIA
One second Kieran was looking at me with gentle golden eyes.
The next, those eyes turned completely black and he was attacking.
His hands closed around my throat. Not to kill—to dominate. His wolf had taken over completely, all control gone.
Kieran! I gasped, but he didn't respond.
The berserker wasn't listening. Wasn't seeing me—just prey to conquer.
My Nullwolf power activated on pure instinct.
But this time, I didn't sever the bond. I did something different.
I reached into his wolf—into the rage and violence and pain—and pulled it out.
The darkness flowed from him into me. I absorbed his berserker's fury, draining it away like poison from a wound.
Kieran collapsed, hands releasing my throat. He fell to his knees, gasping.
And then he started sobbing.
I can—I can think, he choked out. My wolf is—it's quiet. For the first time in years, it's quiet.
I knelt beside him, hand on his shoulder. What happened to you?
The story came out in broken pieces. His berserker variant. The suppressants. The years of pretending to be perfect while a monster screamed inside him.
Everyone sees the golden heir, he said, looking at me with devastated eyes. You're the only one who sees the monster and isn't afraid.
I've been called a monster too, I said quietly. Difference is, I'm learning to weaponize it.
He stared at me like I'd just handed him salvation. Teach me.
I don't know how I did that.
Then we'll figure it out together. His hands cupped my face. You make me whole, Aria. Without you, I'm just the thing underneath the mask.
The bond between us blazed hot and bright.
Around the training yard, I noticed students had gathered, staring. They'd seen Kieran lose control. Seen the golden Ashwood heir show his monster.
His reputation would suffer.
But he was looking at me like I was worth it.
ARIA
Over the next few days, Kieran changed.
He stopped hiding his possessive nature. Started touching me constantly—a hand on my back, fingers brushing mine, sitting so close our thighs touched.
Public claiming without the actual words.
Dante noticed immediately. Started getting more aggressive, cornering me in hallways, marking his territory.
Zane just quietly eliminated threats. A student who'd insulted me mysteriously broke both legs. Another who'd tried to trip me transferred schools overnight.
I was caught in the middle of three Alphas competing for dominance.
And I was using it. Learning from each of them. Gathering weapons for whatever war was coming.
Late one night, Kieran walked me back to my cell after another training session.
He backed me against the door, golden eyes intense and hungry.
Let me in, Ria. His voice was rough. Not just your room—here. He touched my chest, right over my heart where the mark lived.
Why should I? I challenged. So you can complete the mate bond and own me?
No. He leaned closer, lips almost touching mine. So I can show you what it feels like to be worshipped instead of used.
Then he kissed me.
It was nothing like I expected. Not demanding or dominating—desperate. Like he was drowning and I was air.
The bond exploded between us. I felt his need, his devotion, his complete willingness to burn the world for me.
I broke away, gasping. I don't need worship. I need weapons.
Then let me be your weapon. His forehead pressed against mine. I'll burn the world down for you. Just let me.
I wanted to. God, I wanted to let him in, to accept what he was offering.
But accepting one meant choosing. And I couldn't choose.
Goodnight, Kieran.
I slipped inside, locked the door, and leaned against it.
Through the bonds, I felt all three Alphas.
Dante's rage at being denied, plotting how to claim me first.
Kieran's desire, still burning on the other side of my door.
Zane's steady devotion, watching from the shadows like always.
And beneath it all, my own feelings I refused to acknowledge.
I was falling for them. All three of them.
Which was impossible and dangerous and
A knock on my door made me jump.
Aria. Raven's voice, urgent. Open up. Now.
I opened the door. She looked terrified.
What's wrong?
She held up a piece of paper covered in ancient symbols. I translated more of that prophecy. The sacrifice—it's not metaphorical.
My blood ran cold. What do you mean?
The Primordials are coming to judge werewolves. To decide if they're worthy to exist. Her hands shook. And the sacrifice that determines survival? It's you, Aria. You're supposed to die to save them all.
The floor dropped out from under me.
When? I whispered.
The Blood Moon. Three weeks from now. She looked at me with tears in her eyes. They're going to kill you to appease the Primordials. And Corvus? He's known all along.
Outside my window, a shadow moved.
Lyanna stood in the courtyard, silver wolf glowing beneath her skin.
She was smiling.
And she was holding something—a ceremonial knife, the blade black and ancient.
The same knife from the prophecy illustrations. The one used for sacrifices.
She looked up, met my eyes, and mouthed two words:
Three weeks.
Then she disappeared into the darkness.