Chapter 2
Elena's POV
The bone-chilling morning wind whipped through my fur as I raced on all fours through the mist-shrouded pine forest. This was my third voluntary patrol of the northern border this week—the most dangerous sector of our territory. No one questioned why I'd suddenly become so "dedicated." They just exchanged those suffocating looks of pity before falling silent.
Screw their sympathy. I don't need it.
It had been three days since Kane humiliated me in front of both packs. Three days of avoiding sympathetic glances and whispers. At least out here in the wilderness, I could breathe normally, without wearing a mask pretending everything was fine.
I climbed onto a boulder to rest, catching my breath. The northern territory was dangerous not only because it bordered the Northern Tundra werewolves, but also because it had once been vampire territory. Most pack members avoided it like the plague—which was exactly what I wanted: a place where no one would bother me.
A distant movement caught my attention. I immediately flattened myself against the cold stone, ears pricked forward.
Two wolves moved through the forest below, their coordination making my stomach churn. The black wolf—Kane—paused to scent the air while that red-haired bitch Sava circled behind their prey. They needed no signals to predict each other's movements, like perfect partners.
That used to be my place. A sharp pain stabbed through my chest. Before Kane left for war, we had hunted like that too.
I couldn't watch anymore. I turned and ran, tears blurring my vision. I ran blindly, deeper into the forbidden zone, caring nothing for direction or safety. The wind howled through my fur as I pushed myself faster, as if physical pain could mask the wound in my heart.
Until a strong scent of blood hit my nostrils, stopping me in my tracks. Fresh blood. A lot of it.
I lifted my nose, breathing deeply to identify the scent. The blood carried a strange wild quality—like blizzards and ice plains mixed together, powerful enough to make me shiver. But underneath lay something else... a hint of abnormal decay.
Following the scent of blood, I came to a clearing beside a small stream. Sunlight danced through the leaves onto the ground. On a flat rock by the stream lay an enormous gray wolf—larger than any wolf I'd ever seen.
Even wounded, this wolf was magnificent. Almost twice my size, with thick gray fur covering powerful muscles. Most striking was the aura he emanated—an overwhelming Alpha presence, stronger even than my father's.
Blood seeped from multiple wounds, especially a deep gash across his abdomen. I approached cautiously, staying alert—injured predators are the most dangerous.
Suddenly, his eyes snapped open—ice-blue. He stared at me intently, then began to shift. The sound of bones breaking and reforming echoed eerily through the silent forest.
The gray wolf transformed into a tall, muscular man with well-defined muscles. Dark hair framed his sharp-featured face—a face both wild and unusually attractive. Despite his wounds, he straightened his back, his gaze piercing.
"Silver Moon wolf," his voice was deep and rough, "you're trespassing."
I shifted back to human form, standing tall and meeting his eyes. "This is Silver Moon territory. You're the intruder, Northerner."
He smiled slightly. "Brave of you to shift in my presence. I could have torn your throat out before you finished."
"Try it," I shot back, though we both knew in his current state, the threat carried no weight.
He attempted to stand but sucked in a sharp breath as fresh blood poured from his abdominal wound. "I am Drake, Alpha of the Northern Tundra," he gasped. "I was ambushed while tracking a vampire scout."
"Vampires?" The word sent a chill down my spine. "No one has seen vampires here for generations."
"They're back," his expression grim. "Malachi's lieutenant is gathering forces. Your war is far from over."
He tried to rise again but passed out instead. "Vampires..." he struggled to say before losing consciousness, "returning... must... warn everyone..."
I stood there, considering my options. Help a Northern Alpha, or leave him to his fate? If his warning about vampires was true, that information was vital to all werewolves.
I tore strips from my clothing to make crude bandages and began dressing his worst wounds.
"This Northern savage must be executed immediately!" Elder Nimos slammed his fist on the stone table, his wrinkled face flushed with anger. "His presence on our land is a blatant provocation!"
The tension in the council hall was almost tangible. Elders and warrior leaders sat around the stone table, debating the fate of the Northern Alpha, who was bound in silver chains. Even injured and captive, Drake exuded dangerous power.
I had just finished reporting how I'd found him and his warning about vampires. My father, Magnus Silvermoon, frowned deeply, clearly weighing the possibilities.
"If his warning about vampires is true," I struggled to remain calm, "killing him would be foolish. We need more information."
"You believe the words of a Northern savage?" Nimos scoffed. "They're born liars and beasts."
"Perhaps," the elderly Elder Aileen said quietly, "we should consider using him as a bargaining chip. The Northern pack would pay dearly for their Alpha's return."
The debate grew more heated, voices rising. Just then, the doors to the hall opened, and the last person I wanted to see walked in.
Kane.
Seeing him felt like a hammer blow to my heart. He walked straight toward the center of the council, his face scar looking particularly fierce in the firelight. Our eyes met briefly before he turned to address the elders.
"I don't think execution is wise," he began, his voice low and powerful, immediately silencing the hall. "If vampires truly have returned, we need every piece of intelligence possible."
"Since when does the Iron Claw Alpha concern himself with our affairs?" Nimos sneered.
"Since vampires became a threat to all werewolves," Kane answered calmly, though I noticed his clenched jaw—he was suppressing anger.
From my position, I could see Drake watching Kane with strange intensity. When their eyes met, something like invisible sparks seemed to fly through the air.
"The new Iron Claw leader," Drake spoke, his voice weak but clear, "you're... smarter than rumors suggest."
Kane's expression remained stony. "Don't misunderstand, Northerner. I care about the pack's safety, not your life."
As tensions escalated, a messenger burst into the hall. "The Northern wolves have gathered at the border! They demand their Alpha's release or they'll declare war by moonrise tomorrow!"
The council erupted into chaos. Just then, Nimos suddenly turned to me, his eyes gleaming with cunning.
"In this crisis, the pack needs unity! Elena Silvermoon," he announced loudly, "as the Alpha's daughter, you must choose a mate immediately! Marcus, Sergei, or Aaron—you have three days to decide!"
"Nimos," my father said worriedly, "my daughter just experienced betrayal. This demand is excessive."
"Personal feelings must yield to pack interests!" Nimos insisted. "Unless... she has a better solution?"
I stood there, blood roaring in my ears. Three days to choose a mate I didn't love, or be forced to accept the council's arrangement. Perfect. Just fucking PERFECT. From the corner of my eye, I glimpsed Kane's expression but couldn't read any emotion.
Don't expect me to cry over you, Kane. You lost that right.