CHAPTER 3: SHADOWS AND SCENTS
Samantha’s POV
“Any info, Princess?” Dad Zarek asked through the mindlink as I plucked a shiny apple from the tree I was perched on and took a big, satisfying bite.
“I don’t think the Blue Moon Pack is up to anything shady,” I replied between chews. “I broke into the Alpha office last night. Their files are... wow. Whoever handles their records must be a hyper-efficient freak. Every damn detail was documented down to the second!”
I sighed dreamily. “And they smelled so good. I could honestly mate with those files.”
Silence. Then—laughter.
Shit.
That’s when I realized my parents were all on the other end of the call.
FML.
“Mate with the files, huh?” Dad Talon teased. “At least they won’t live in constant fear of getting killed or pranked.”
He groaned dramatically. “Damn! I forgot to check my coffee, closet, bathroom, and shoes for snakes, fireworks, super glue, possibly pee, or whatever fresh horror you’ve cooked up lately. I’m so screwed.”
“As if that ever stopped you sextuplet menaces from shocking us daily,” Dad Victor scoffed affectionately.
Aww. He gets us.
“So, wanna come home, Princess?” Dad Zarek asked gently.
“Thinking I’ll stay one more night,” I answered, climbing higher into the branches as a few patrolling warriors passed beneath me. “I want to do a full sweep of the territory before reporting in.”
“Alright, Princess. Be safe. I’ll come pick you up personally tomorrow morning.”
We exchanged the usual farewells— “Take care,” “Miss you,” “Not your pranks though”—before the call ended.
Sigh. I missed them already.
Toughest Were-Vamp warriors in the world... and still soft as teddy bears when it came to their kids.
Except for Dad Victor—he was a literal ancient Vampire King.
No biggie.
Kyler’s POV
“I’m telling you—someone was here last night. And they’re still in our territory,” I growled, fists clenched as frustration simmered beneath my skin.
Nobody believed me. Not the trackers, not even my best friend and Beta—Xeon.
“Man, I don’t smell anything,” Xeon replied, annoyed. “You’re just obsessed with that damn rosy vanilla scent. I swear, you’ve been overworking. Between your Alpha duties and your nightly assassin ops, you need a break before you burn out.”
“Not this again,” I groaned. “Spare me the lecture.”
I dismissed the trackers. “Double the patrols. Post warriors outside every house. And you,” I said, pointing at Xeon, “lead a team through the forest.”
“Fine. But you’re officially a crazy, scent-obsessed workaholic,” he muttered, even as he carried out my orders. Good soldier. Better friend.
The security he designed was top-tier—but I was an assassin. I knew better than anyone that every system had a weak spot.
And our intruder had found it.
A rose-and-vanilla-scented ghost, slipping through our blind spots.
Right. Introductions.
I’m Kyler Arrow. Future Alpha of the Blue Moon Pack. Nineteen. Assassin. Top of my class. Genius prodigy who finished Applied Sciences at uni by fifteen.
Still mateless. Still a virgin.
Don’t judge—I’m picky.
My Beta, Xeon, is just like me: a nineteen-year-old trained killer with zero luck in the mate department. We were so sure we’d find them at eighteen, but nope. A year later, here we are—single, sexy, and buried in work.
Not that it stopped us from having flings. Just… nothing permanent.
“Alright, Monkey Fart,” Xeon said through the mindlink. “I take it back. I do smell something. Wild mint and ivy. And my wolf is losing it.”
“Finally!” I smirked. “Told you I wasn’t crazy.”
“How’d they get in?” he asked.
“Trees,” I said simply.
Then I cut the link and suited up.
No one infiltrates Kyler Arrow’s territory and walks away untouched.
Not. A. Chance.
Samantha’s POV
“What the hell are you doing here, Dre?!” I whisper-hissed as my Beta and best friend swung lazily onto the branch beside me, planting his boots right on my lap.
“And can you pretend to respect your Alpha—especially when we’re trespassing?!”
Dre smirked, eyes closed, and let out a loud fart.
“Seriously?!”
“That’s all the respect you’re getting from me,” he said with a smug grin, jamming his earbuds in.
What the actual hell? Was he here for a picnic?
I kicked him. Hard.
To my satisfaction, he slipped off the branch in a glorious nose-dive—until I “mercifully” broke his fall with a nice load of bird poop.
“Bitch!” he yelled, scrambling back up.
“Talk to yourself more,” I said calmly, refocusing through my binoculars. “And don’t even think about pushing me off.”
“Fine,” he muttered, unwrapping gum.
“Hey! Gimme one! Where are your manners?”
“Take one. Not the whole pack,” he grunted.
“Selfish bastard,” I muttered, reaching back while watching the patrol.
I grabbed the slightly sticking gum strip, pulled—AND HOLY FUCK.
Twenty amps of electric shock blasted through my body. My hair stood up like a cactus.
I nearly blacked out.
Before I could react, Dre was already filming, cackling like a maniac, snapping pictures, and—yep—posting it in the pack group chat.
He. Is. So. Dead.
“This is gold!” he laughed, shoving candy into his mouth.
“What the hell are you doing here?!” I growled, still twitching.
“My wolf was restless. I got bored. So I sprinkled salty water in my eyes, wailed about missing you, and Papa Draven talked to your mom. Boom—I’m here.”
“Spoiled brat,” I hissed.
“I can’t help it if I’m lovable,” he shrugged. “Your parents love you too—they just didn’t have the heart to tell you you were never adopted.”
“Keep talking and I’ll light your smug ass on fire.”
“Hey! Don’t ruin the goods! This bubble butt has admirers, okay? Guys, girls—you name it. If I die first, preserve it in a museum.”
The narcissist wasn’t wrong. Dre was gorgeous—green eyes, tall, lean, and cut like sin. If he weren’t basically my brother, I’d consider jumping his bones.
But the bragging? Ugh.
Like me, Dre was nineteen, mateless, a prankster, and absolutely spoiled by his parents.
His dad, Uncle Draven, was Mom’s childhood bestie and the highest-ranking Beta warrior in our pack. He sent Dre and his siblings to the most brutal ninja training academy in existence—where even their junk got trained to withstand attacks.
Unfortunately, all that bad-assery didn’t stop Dre from being a drama queen.
And an absolute menace.
“No one’s paying for your ass, Dre. They wouldn’t take it even for free,” I said, rolling my eyes.
He reached over and pinched my side.
Hard.
And just like that…
Reason #472 to murder my Beta.