The compound erupted.
Elara pressed herself against the wall of the omega quarters, listening to the chaos outside. Feet pounding. Wolves snarling. The clash of battle somewhere in the darkness beyond the buildings. Her heart hammered so hard she could feel it in her throat, in her temples, in the silver marks that now covered her arms like second skin.
They're here for me.
The thought crystallized with terrible certainty.
The rogue at the tree line this morning. The attack tonight. They were testing the borders, yes—but also creating chaos. Distraction. Opportunity.
While the pack fights, someone could slip through.
Elara grabbed her boots. Pulled them on with shaking hands. Grabbed the thin blanket from her cot—useless, but it was something—and moved toward the door.
Marta appeared in the opening, wild-eyed. "What are you doing?"
"Leaving. Before they find me."
"Find you? The rogues are at the eastern border, miles away. You're safe here."
You don't understand. I'm the reason they're here.
But Elara couldn't explain. Couldn't tell this tired, grieving woman that the human omega was actually a royal target. Couldn't drag her into a danger she'd never asked for.
"I need air." The lie tasted like ash. "I'll stay close. I promise."
Marta's eyes searched her face. Whatever she saw there made her step aside. "Be careful, child. The wolves are on edge tonight. They won't distinguish between you and an enemy."
They never do.
Elara slipped out into the night.
---
The compound was chaos.
Wolves streamed past her in both directions—some running toward the eastern border, others securing the interior, others simply milling in confusion. Torches flickered. Voices shouted. Somewhere a child wailed, and a woman's voice rose above the din, sharp with fear.
Elara kept to the shadows.
She didn't know where she was going. The forest was too dangerous—rogues could be anywhere. The compound was too exposed—pack members might see her, question her, notice her. The healing hut was too far—
Thorne.
He was the only one who knew. The only one who might help.
She angled toward the edge of the compound, where the healer's hut sat separate from the chaos. If she could just reach it, just get inside, just—
A hand clamped over her mouth.
Elara was dragged backward into darkness.
---
She fought.
Eighteen years of surviving orphanage bullies, of learning to be small and quiet and overlooked—but also eighteen years of knowing when to stop being small. She thrashed. Kicked. Bit down on the hand covering her mouth until she tasted blood.
Her attacker grunted. Swore. His grip tightened painfully, fingers digging into her jaw.
"Stop fighting, little royal, or I'll break your neck and drag you back anyway."
The voice was rough. Familiar.
Vance.
The rogue leader from her dreams. From the attack that had brought her here.
Elara went still.
"Good girl." His breath was hot against her ear, foul with something rotten. "Now listen carefully. The master wants you alive. Wants you intact. That's the only reason you're breathing right now. But if you scream, if you fight, if you make this difficult..." His teeth grazed her earlobe. "I don't need you intact. I just need your blood. And there are so many ways to collect blood."
Elara's marks blazed.
Beneath her skin, something surged—a power she'd never felt, hot and wild and desperate to be free. Vance hissed, jerking back as if burned.
"What—" He stared at his hand. At the red marks blooming across his palm where he'd touched her. "What are you?"
I don't know, she thought wildly. I don't know what I am.
But something was happening. The marks weren't just glowing now—they were pulsing, sending waves of heat through her body, gathering in her chest like a second heartbeat.
Vance's yellow eyes widened. "The seal. It's breaking." A terrible smile curved his scarred lips. "Even better. The master will be very pleased."
He reached for her again—
And a massive black wolf slammed into him from the side.
---
Kael.
Even in wolf form, Elara recognized him. The size. The power. The one silver paw that flashed in the torchlight as he tore into Vance with savage efficiency.
Vance shifted mid-air, meeting wolf with wolf. They crashed to the ground in a tangle of fur and teeth and rage, rolling across the frozen earth, each seeking purchase, advantage, blood.
Elara scrambled backward. Her back hit a building—the healing hut, she realized distantly. She'd almost made it.
Inside, a light flickered on.
Thorne. He'll help. He'll—
But she couldn't move. Couldn't look away from the battle raging twenty feet away.
Kael was winning.
Despite Vance's size, despite his ferocity, despite everything—Kael was destroying him. Each movement was precise, brutal, Alpha. He didn't fight like a wolf defending territory. He fought like a wolf defending—
Me.
The thought hit Elara like a physical blow.
He'd come for her. In the middle of a border attack, in the middle of chaos, he'd somehow known she was in danger. Had left his post. Had found her.
The bond, something whispered. It's working both ways.
Vance broke free, blood streaming from a dozen wounds. He snarled something in a language Elara didn't recognize—and then he ran. Disappeared into the darkness between buildings like smoke.
Kael started after him.
Stopped.
Turned.
Shifted.
The transformation was seamless—fur receding, bones reshaping, until Kael stood naked in the torchlight, chest heaving, blood dripping from a gash on his shoulder. His silver eyes found hers immediately.
"Are you hurt?"
The question was rough. Desperate. Nothing like the cold Alpha who'd dismissed her as nothing.
Elara shook her head. Couldn't speak.
Kael crossed the distance between them in three strides. Dropped to his knees before her—on his knees, the Alpha of Blackthorn Pack, in front of a human omega—and gripped her arms.
"I felt it." His voice was barely a whisper. "I was at the border, and suddenly I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Couldn't do anything except run. Something was wrong. Something was—" He stopped. Swallowed. His eyes dropped to her arms. To the marks still pulsing with silver light.
"Your marks," he breathed. "They're... glowing."
Elara looked down.
The silver lines covering her arms had intensified—bright enough to cast shadows, bright enough to illuminate Kael's face inches from her own. They pulsed in rhythm with her heartbeat, with the power still surging beneath her skin.
"I don't know how to stop it," she whispered.
Kael's hands tightened on her arms. "What is this? What are you?"
Before she could answer, the healing hut door flew open.
Thorne stood there, ancient face pale, eyes wide. "Inside. Both of you. Now."
---
The healing hut had never felt so small.
Elara sat on the edge of Thorne's worktable, wrapped in a blanket that smelled of herbs and age. Kael stood nearby—someone had found him clothes, simple pants that did nothing to diminish his presence. His silver eyes hadn't left her since they entered.
Thorne worked on Kael's shoulder wound with practiced efficiency, but his attention kept drifting to Elara. To the marks that still glowed faintly beneath the blanket.
"The seal is weakening faster than I anticipated," he said quietly. "The rogue's touch, your fear, the proximity to your mate—" He shot a glance at Kael. "—all of it is accelerating the process."
Kael's head snapped up. "Mate?"
No. Elara's heart lurched. Not like this. Not yet.
Thorne met her eyes. A question. A warning. Do you want him to know?
Elara gave a tiny shake of her head.
Thorne's expression didn't change. "I misspoke. The bond between wolf and human who've shared proximity. It can create... echoes. Sensations. The rogue's attack likely triggered a sympathetic response."
It was a terrible lie. Thin. Obvious.
Kael's eyes narrowed. "That's not what you meant."
"It's exactly what I meant." Thorne's voice firmed. "Now let me finish this wound before you bleed out and leave the pack without an Alpha."
Kael let him work, but his gaze never left Elara.
She felt it like a physical weight. Those silver eyes, searching her face, her marks, her very soul. Looking for answers she couldn't give. Looking for her.
He's trying, she realized. For the first time, he's actually trying to see me.
But the seal was still there. Still blocking. Still testing.
And until he proved himself worthy, she couldn't tell him the truth.
---
When Thorne finished, Kael stood.
Walked to Elara.
Stopped inches away, close enough that she could feel the heat of his body, smell the pine and smoke and blood that clung to him.
"I don't understand what's happening." His voice was low. Private. For her alone. "I don't understand why I can't stop thinking about you. Why I knew—knew—you were in danger tonight, even though I was miles away. Why looking at you makes my chest hurt." He touched his sternum, right where the bond would be. "Right here. Like something's trying to get out."
Elara's eyes burned. "Maybe something is."
"Then tell me what." His hand lifted, hovered near her face. "Tell me what you are. Tell me why my wolf screams every time you're near. Tell me—"
"Kael." Thorne's voice cut through the moment. "The border. Your pack. You're needed."
Kael's jaw tightened. For a terrible moment, Elara thought he'd refuse. Thought he'd stay, demand answers, force the truth.
But he was Alpha. And Alpha meant duty, even when every instinct screamed otherwise.
He lowered his hand. Stepped back. "This isn't over."
"No," Elara whispered. "It's not."
He looked at her for one more heartbeat—silver eyes burning with confusion and want and something that might have been hope—and then he was gone.
The door closed behind him.
Elara exhaled.
Thorne moved to her side, pressed a cup of something warm into her hands. "Drink. It will help settle the power."
She drank. It tasted like honey and moonlight.
"He's close," Thorne said quietly. "The bond is stirring in him. He felt you in danger. He came. Those are steps toward worthiness."
"But not enough."
"No. Not yet." Thorne's ancient eyes held hers. "The seal requires more than instinct, child. It requires choice. Sacrifice. He must choose to see you, to trust you, to fight for you—not because his wolf demands it, but because he does. Until then, the truth remains hidden."
Until then, I remain nothing.
Elara looked at her hands. At the silver marks curling across her palms, still faintly glowing.
"The rogues," she said. "Vance said the 'master' wants me alive. Wants my blood."
Thorne went still. "He spoke of a master?"
"Before Kael attacked. He said—" She swallowed. "He said the master will be pleased the seal is breaking."
Thorne's face drained of color. "Then we have even less time than I thought. The master—if it's who I fear—is the one who orchestrated the royal massacre. The one who's been hunting the bloodline for two hundred years."
"A person? A wolf?"
"Both. Neither." Thorne shook his head. "I don't know the full truth. But I know this: if the master learns the seal is breaking, they'll move faster. They'll come themselves. And not even Kael can protect you from what's coming."
Elara set down the cup. "Then I can't stay here."
"You can't leave either. The rogues are watching every exit. They'd grab you the moment you stepped beyond pack borders."
"Then what do I do?"
Thorne was silent for a long moment.
Then: "You prepare. You learn. You strengthen the seal from within rather than letting it break chaotically. And you pray that Kael becomes worthy before the master arrives."
"And if he doesn't?"
Thorne's eyes were ancient. Sad. "Then the last Silver Crown heir dies. And the wolves fall to darkness forever."
---
Elara didn't sleep that night.
She sat in the healing hut while Thorne dozed in his chair, watching the marks on her arms pulse with soft silver light. Thinking about Kael's hands on her skin. His voice saying I felt it. His eyes when he'd looked at her like she mattered.
He's trying.
But trying wasn't enough.
Not yet.
Not until he chose her—not because the bond demanded it, but because he did.
And given how thoroughly he'd rejected her... how long would that take?
How long did she have?
Outside, the compound slowly settled. The border attack had been repelled. Casualties were minimal. The pack would wake tomorrow and resume their lives, unaware that a war was brewing over the human omega in their midst.
Elara pressed her hand to her chest. Felt the power surging beneath her skin. The wolf trying to break free.
Soon, she promised it. Soon.
But first, she had to survive.
---
End of Chapter 5🐺