Prologue
My name is Elowen Skye Thorne. Half wolf. Half fae. Bad ass magical bitch extraordinare.
But I didn’t always know that.
I grew up hidden in the Stormclaw Pack, tucked beneath the Alpha King’s protection. My father, Caelan, was his Beta, fierce and loyal, and the only anchor I had in a world that never made sense. He was killed when I was ten, slaughtered by the Hollow Creed, human hunters who think tearing apart magical bloodlines makes them holy. After that, I was raised by a gamma couple. They weren’t cruel, but they weren’t my father. They made sure I survived, nothing more.
For years, I thought I was just another wolf pup without a mother. Strong, stubborn, faster than the others, sure, but nothing special.
That illusion shattered the day before my eighteenth birthday.
My foster father handed me a wooden box he’d kept hidden for years. Inside were two letters. The first was from my real father, the man who raised me. The second was from my mother, the mother I had never known.
Her truth cut me open. She was fae, a royal warrior of the Starborn Court. Her love for my father was forbidden, their child an abomination in the eyes of both worlds. A spell had been placed on me at birth, burying my fae half so deep I could never uncover it on my own.
But my mother had left me a gift. An address. A witch in Scotland with enough power to break the spell.
When that spell cracked, everything changed. My fae blood surged awake, my wolf howled with ancient power, and the goddesses themselves began whispering my name. I wasn’t just a wolf. I wasn’t just a hybrid.
I was the Chosen of the Moon, the Earth, and the Stars.
And I was hunted.
The Aegis Protocol, Lucien Virell’s alliance of vampire nobles, corrupt witches, and power-drunk humans, had been bleeding the world dry for decades. And now they wanted me.
But I didn’t run. In four brutal months of war and growth, I gathered my mates.
Daxon, the alpha wolf who drives me insane and completes me anyway.
Ashrian, the vampire prince with shadows in his smile.
Bram, the bear heir who shields me like his own heartbeat.
Lachlan, the Scottish mage who swears like a sailor while wielding storms.
And Vaelrix, the dragon king whose fire burns as hot as mine.
Together, we began doing the impossible. Uniting species that had hated each other for centuries. Forging armies out of ashes. Breaking chains. Tearing down cages.
But not everyone stood with us.
Soria and Vaela Stormclaw, sisters of my wolf mate, Daxon, betrayed us. They went to Lucien, to the Aegis Protocol. They chose greed and power over blood and loyalty. And that betrayal led us straight into hell.
The Crucible. That’s where it all broke.
We stormed the fortress with our armies, blades high and magic roaring. I shifted into dragon form, fire blazing, wings stretched wide. For a heartbeat, victory seemed possible. Then the ground split, and Raelith, the Blood Goddess herself, sent her chains.
They were made of blood and twisted shadow, blood runes etched in every link, dripping with unholy power. They wrapped around my wings, my neck, my throat, my soul. They burned through scale and skin, blistering, breaking me piece by piece. My fire died. My body collapsed.
And my mates, my heart, my bond, my everything, had to retreat.
I will never forget the look in Daxon’s eyes as I screamed for him to go. The fury in Bram’s snarl, the storm raging in Lachlan’s magic, the smoke curling from Vaelrix’s teeth, the shadows trembling around Ashrian. They wanted to die fighting for me. And I forced them to leave.
Because if they had stayed, they would have been dragged down into the abyss with me.
So they left me. Naked. Broken. Bound in Raelith’s chains.
The torture began immediately. Days blurred into agony. Blood runes carved into my skin. Dark magic siphoned through my veins until my body convulsed and cracked. I should have died. I would have, if not for the goddesses. They whispered in the darkness, wove their power through my screams, and kept me alive when everything else wanted me broken.
And then came the ritual.
Lucien’s voice, low and commanding. Vaela’s eyes glowing red, her body twisted with corruption. They stood over me as the cultists bled themselves out, their lifeblood feeding the runes painted across my chest. My body was meant to become Raelith’s vessel. My soul, her throne.
But Soria, had been texting her mother this entire time...thankfully. If not for her....who knows.
Her texts lit the fuse, and my bonded and our armies stormed the Crucible again. Fire, steel, shadow, storm and chaos ripping through the fortress as my chains shattered. They pulled me from the altar, tore me from the jaws of the Blood Goddess herself.
We escaped.
But not all of us made it out whole.
Vaela couldn’t be saved. Her body and soul were too far gone, her veins already blackened by Raelith’s hunger. In the madness, in the fire, Soria did the only thing she could. She killed her sister.
Now we are safe. For the moment. I am home.
But my soul is tainted. Raelith is inside me still, whispering, waiting, poisoning my dreams.
At night, I see her. A girl with golden eyes, locked in a silver cage. She is faceless but real. She begs for release. And I know she is not alone.
We have to save her.
We have to save them all.