The morning frost clung to the ceremonial grounds like a burial shroud.

Eloan stood at the center of the circle of stones, her bare feet numb against the frozen earth, her thin dress offering no protection against the biting wind.

Around her, the entire Asheville pack had gathered to witness her humiliation.

Alone in Ve, Alpha Draven’s voice cut through the silence like a blade.

You have been found unworthy.

She kept her eyes fixed on the ground, refusing to let them see her tremble.

23 years she had lived among these people.

23 years of trying to prove that an Omega could be more than a servant, more than a burden.

23 years of hoping someone might see her as valuable.

None of it mattered now.

No mate has claimed you,” Draven continued, circling her slowly.

“No wolf of standing has spoken for your worth.

You have failed to contribute to the strength of this pack.

Failed.

The word burrowed into her chest like a thorn.

Draven, please.

The whisper came from the crowd.

Eloin’s heart clenched at the sound of her younger sister’s voice.

She’s done nothing wrong.

You can’t just silence now.

Draven didn’t even turn to look.

Unless you wish to join her.

The crowd shifted uncomfortably, but no one else spoke.

Speaking against an alpha meant exile, and exile for a wolf meant death.

Aloan lifted her gaze, finding her sister’s tear streaked face in the crowd.

“Don’t,” she mouthed silently.

“Don’t risk yourself for me.”

Nell’s expression crumpled, but she stayed quiet.

“By the ancient laws of our kind,” Draven announced, his voice ringing with finality.

“I hereby sever all bonds between Eloan Ve and the Ashevail Pack.

She is Omega no longer.

She is nothing.”

The words hit her like physical blows.

She felt something tear inside her chest.

An invisible thread being ripped away.

The pack bond, fragile as it had always been for her, shattered completely.

Eloan gasped, stumbling forward as the emptiness rushed in.

Cold.

So cold and hollow, like her soul had been scooped out and discarded.

“You have until sunset to leave our territory,” Draven said, already turning away.

If you’re found within our borders after dark, you will be treated as a trespasser.

The crowd began to disperse, wolves flowing around her like water around a stone, not one of them meeting her eyes.

Only Nell remained, rushing forward to embrace her.

I’ll come with you, Nell whispered fiercely.

I won’t let you go alone.

No.

Eloan gripped her sister’s shoulders, forcing strength into her voice.

You have a life here, a future.

Ronan will claim you at the next moon and you’ll be mated, protected.

I don’t care about Ronin.

I care about you and I care about you.”

Eloan pressed her forehead to her sisters, which is why you have to stay.

Live well, little wolf.

Be happy.

She pulled away before Nell could argue further before her own resolve could crumble.

With nothing but the clothes on her back and a small leather pouch containing for her grandmother’s final letter, Eloin walked out of the only home she’d ever known.

The cabin appeared through the mist like a forgotten ghost.

Three days of walking through wilderness, surviving on creek water and what little food she could forage.

And finally, Eloin had found it.

Her grandmother’s inheritance.

The only thing the old woman had left her in death, a crumbling structure deep in the Pinehart Mountains where no pack claimed territory.

Because nothing survives here, Eloin thought grimly, taking in the sagging roof and broken windows.

Nothing but ghosts.

Her grandmother had died 3 months ago, alone in this cabin.

Aloan hadn’t even been allowed to attend the burial.

Omegas weren’t granted leave for personal matters.

The letter had arrived weeks later, smuggled to her by a traveling merchant.

The cabin is yours now.

What I couldn’t tell you in life, you’ll find within.

Forgive me, child.

And trust the pines.

Trust the pines.

Her grandmother had always been strange, speaking in riddles that made no sense.

Elo had only met her twice in her entire life.

Both times in secret, both times with warnings that felt like madness.

You carry something precious, little one.

Something they must never discover.

Eloin pushed open the cabin door, wincing as the rusted hinges screamed in protest.

Inside, dust moes danced in the weak light, filtering through gaps in the walls.

A single room with a stone hearth, a narrow bed, and shelves lined with jars and dried herbs.

Her grandmother had been a healer, she remembered, or some called her a witch.

She spent the remaining daylight making the space livable, clearing debris, starting a fire, trying not to think about how alone she was.

When night fell, Eloan finally allowed herself to rest.

She stripped off her filthy dress, meaning to wash in the basin of water she’d collected.

But as she lifted her arm, she froze.

There, on the inside of her left wrist, was a mark she had never seen before.

Elo’s breath caught.

She stumbled closer to the candle light, holding her wrist up to examine it.

The mark was intricate, delicate lines forming a pattern that seemed to shimmer faintly, like moonlight trapped beneath her skin.

A wolf and a crown intertwined with pine branches.

When did this appear?

How?

Her hands trembling, she grabbed her grandmother’s letter, reading it again with new desperation.

And there at the bottom, words she hadn’t noticed before, so faintly written they were nearly invisible.

When you find the mark, know that you were never unclaimed.

You belong to the throne of Pinehart.

You belong to him, Eloin’s blood turned to ice.

The throne of Pinehart, the lost kingdom of the Alpha King, there in Veilcraftoft, who had vanished 5 years ago.

His entire bloodline presumed dead, his territory fallen to wilderness.

She stared at the mark on her wrist.

Her heart pounding, a dead king’s mark on her skin, and somewhere in the darkness outside, a wolf began to howl.

Sleep didn’t come that night.

Every time Eloin closed her eyes, she heard them.

Wolves moving through the pines, their paws crunching softly on frost, their breath misting in the cold air.

She couldn’t see them through the darkness beyond her window, but she felt them, watching, waiting.

By morning, her nerves were afraid to breaking.

She examined the mark on her wrist a hundred times, hoping it might fade.

Might prove to be nothing but a strange bruise or trick of the light.

It didn’t.

If anything, it seemed brighter now, the lines more defined.

Elo spent the day searching the cabin for answers.

She found journals tucked behind loose stones in the hearth.

Dozens of them hidden where only family would think to look.

Her grandmother had always been paranoid, keeping her true research separate from the decoy journals she left in plain sight.

The Veilcraftoft mark cannot be forged or faked.

One entry read, “It appears only on those the Alpha King has chosen as mate.

The mark is made through touch, through intention, through a bond so deep it transcends conscious memory.”

Elos hands shook as she turned the pages.

But the mark can lie dormant if the bond is made before awakening.

Before either party understands their wolf, it will remain hidden until both are ready.

Until both are near, before awakening, Aloan thought back to her childhood, the gaps in her memory, the strange dreams she’d had since adolescence, dreams of amber eyes and warm hands, and a voice calling her name.

Little wolf, I’ll find you again.

I promise.

She slammed the journal shut, her heart racing.

This was madness.

Theren Velcrooft was dead.

Everyone knew the story.

He’d gone to challenge the rogues threatening his borders and never returned.

His body was never found, but 5 years of silence was confirmation enough.

Dead kings didn’t mark living women.

A sound outside made her freeze.

Footsteps heavy and deliberate circling the cabin.

Eloan grabbed the iron poker from beside the hearth.

Her pulse thundering.

The footsteps stopped at the door.

Silence, then a scratch, low and deliberate, claws dragging down wood.

Who’s there?

Her voice came out steadier than she felt.

I’m warning you.

I’m armed.

No response.

But through the gap beneath the door, she saw a shadow.

Large, four-legged, a wolf.

Elo’s mark began to burn.

The sensation started as warmth, almost pleasant, then rapidly intensified until she gasped, clutching her wrist.

The mark was glowing now, silver white light pulsing beneath her skin in rhythm with her heartbeat.

Outside, the wolf made a sound, not a growl, a wine, almost pained, almost longing.

And then Eloin felt it, a pull deep in her chest, like a hook behind her ribs, tugging her toward the door.

Don’t,” her rational mind screamed.

Don’t open it.

But her hand was already reaching for the latch.

The moment her fingers touched the cold iron, the mark flared so brightly it illuminated the entire cabin.

Elo cried out, falling to her knees as visions crashed through her mind.

A boy with amber eyes, laughing in a sunlit forest, hands clasped together.

A promise whispered, “When we’re older, I’ll come back for you.

Wait for me, little wolf.

Blood.

So much blood.

And a scream that shattered the world.

The visions stopped as suddenly as they began.

Eloin found herself on the floor gasping.

Tears streaming down her face.

Tears for memories she didn’t know she had.

When she finally looked up, the shadow beneath the door was gone.

But on the wooden planks just outside, illuminated by moonlight streaming through the window, she could see them.

Tracks.

Wolf tracks so large they could only belong to an alpha.

And beside them, pressed into the frost, a single word carved with a claw.

Soon three more days passed.

Three days of jumping at shadows, of barely sleeping, of watching the treeine for any sign of the massive wolf, 3 days of her mark burning constantly, a persistent ache that made concentration impossible.

Elo tried to leave once.

She packed what little she had and made it as far as the edge of the pine forest before the pain drove her to her knees.

The mark wouldn’t let her go.

Every step away from the cabin felt like walking through fire.

Trapped, she realized, bonded to a place, to a person I don’t even remember.

On the fourth night, the storm came.

Wind howled through the pines, rattling the cabin walls, driving snow through every crack and gap.

Eloan huddled by the hearth, feeding the flames with the last of her firewood, watching her breath mist [clears throat] in the air despite the fire’s heat.

That’s when she heard it.

A crash outside, something heavy hitting the ground.

Every instinct told her to stay inside.

But the mark flared hot against her wrist, and that pull in her chest returned, stronger than ever.

“He’s hurt,” something whispered in her mind.

A voice that wasn’t quite her own.

“Our mate is hurt.”

Elo grabbed her cloak and pushed out into the storm.

She found him 20 yards from the cabin, collapsed in the snow, not a wolf now, but a man, massive and broad-shouldered, wearing clothes shredded to ribbons, his skin marked with wounds that looked like claw marks, dark hair plastered to his face, his features harsh but beautiful even in unconsciousness.

And on his right wrist, visible even through the blood and snow, a mark that matched her own.

No, Eloin breathed.

This isn’t possible.

But she was already kneeling beside him, [clears throat] already pressing her fingers to his throat to check for a pulse.

His skin burned like a furnace beneath her touch.

And the moment they made contact, her mark exploded with sensation.

Connection, recognition, [clears throat] home.

The feelings weren’t her own.

She realized they were his, bleeding through their bond.

Found you, she felt him thinking even through his unconsciousness.

Finally found you.

“Who are you?”

She whispered, though she already knew the answer.

His eyes opened.

Gold, molten, impossible gold that seemed to glow even in the darkness of the storm.

Eyes from her dreams, from her visions, from memories she’d buried so deep she’d forgotten they existed.

Elo.

His voice was raw, barely audible above the wind.

But the way he said her name, like a prayer, like salvation, made her heart stop.

How do you know my name?

His hand found her wrist, his fingers tracing the mark there with reverent tenderness.

The touch sent lightning through her veins.

Because I put this here, he said, 15 years ago, when we were children, when I promised I would come back for you, Eloin stared at him, memories crashing over her like waves.

The boy in the forest, the secret friend she’d been forbidden to remember.

Theren, she whispered.

You’re supposed to be dead.

Something flickered in those burning irises.

Pain old and deep.

I was, he said, until you called me back.

Before she could ask what he meant, his eyes rolled back and he collapsed against her, unconscious once more.

But even in that state, his hand remained locked around her wrist, his fingers covering her mark.

And Eloin realized with terrifying clarity that she couldn’t let go.

She didn’t want to let go.

As she struggled to drag his massive body toward the cabin, she heard wolves emerging from the storm behind her.

Dozens of them, all watching, all waiting, and at the edge of the treeine, one wolf larger than all the rest, with eyes that held no gold, only cold, calculating ambition.

Draven,” she realized with horror.

Her former alpha had found her.

Getting Theren inside nearly killed her.

He was easily twice her weight, all muscle and broad shoulders.

Eloan hooked her arms beneath his and dragged, her boots slipping on icy ground, her muscles screaming.

The wolves at the treeine watched but didn’t approach.

“Not yet.

Draven is waiting,” she realized, watching to see what I’ll do.

She refused to give him the satisfaction of her fear.

By the time she got Theen through the cabin door, she was drenched in sweat.

She managed to pull him near the hearth, grabbing every blanket she could find.

His skin still burned with fever, and the wounds across his chest wept blood that looked darker than it should.

“What happened to you?”

She whispered, cutting away what remained of his shirt.

The claw marks were deep, but that wasn’t what made her blood run cold.

Threaded through each wound were veins of black spreading outward like poison beneath his skin.

Wolf Spain, her grandmother’s journals had mentioned it.

Enhanced, weaponized, created to kill alpha bloodlines.

Someone had tried to assassinate the alpha king.

Eloin worked through the night, cleaning wounds, applying picuses, fighting the poison with every remedy she could find.

Her mark burned constantly now, guiding her hands, telling her where the darkness was spreading.

Twice the surfaced from unconsciousness.

The first time he grabbed her wrist so hard she gasped, his molten gaze wild and unfocused.

Don’t leave, he rasped.

Eloan, don’t leave me again.

I’m here, she found herself, saying, smoothing the damp hair from his forehead.

I’m not going anywhere.

He relaxed at her touch, his grip loosening, but his fingers stayed wrapped around her wrist, his thumb resting over her mark.

The second time he woke near dawn, he was more lucid.

“You saved me,” he said quietly.

“You collapsed on my doorstep.

I couldn’t leave you in the snow.”

Something flickered across his features, almost a smile.

“Most would have.”

“I’m not most.”

“No.”

His gaze traced her face with an intensity that made her skin warm.

You never were the wolves outside, Eloan said, forcing herself to focus.

One of them is Draven.

He exiled me a week ago.

Theren’s expression hardened.

I know who Draven is.

He wants something.

Why else follow me here?

He wants power, territory.

Theren pushed himself upright, wincing.

And you, little wolf, are the key to both.

Elo frowned.

I’m an omega.

I have no power.

You have my mark.

By ancient law, that makes you the rightful queen of Pinehart.

Whoever controls you controls the largest unclaimed territory in the north.

Queen.

The title felt absurd.

She was nobody.

I didn’t ask for this, she whispered.

Neither did I.

Theren’s hand found hers.

I was 12 when I marked you.

I didn’t understand what I was doing.

Only that my wolf recognized yours.

That you were meant to be mine.

Then why don’t I remember?

Pain flickered through his amber gaze.

Because they made you forget.

After the attack, after my family was slaughtered, your grandmother took you away.

She buried your memories to protect you.

The attack?

Eloan breathed.

I was there.

You saved my life.

A child, barely 8 years old, and you threw yourself between me and the assassin’s blade.

You nearly died.

I’ve spent 15 years trying to find you.

Tears burned in Eloin’s eyes.

She didn’t remember, but her heart did.

The ache she’d carried her entire life suddenly made terrible sense.

A howl split the dawn air, then another.

Theren was on his feet instantly, swaying but alert.

He’s coming.

You can’t fight.

You’re too weak.

I won’t let him take you, and I won’t let you die for me.

Eloan stepped in front of him.

Not when I just found you.

Their eyes met.

The bond between them pulsed, warm and desperate.

Theren’s hand cupped her face, his thumb tracing her cheekbone.

“Whatever happens,” he said quietly.

“Know that I never stopped searching.

I never stopped believing.”

Then he kissed her.

Brief and fierce, a promise and a goodbye.

When he pulled back, something inside her cracked open.

Something locked away for 15 years.

“Stay hidden,” Theren ordered.

No matter what you hear.

Before she could argue, he was gone.

Shifting mid-stride into a massive wolf with fur the color of midnight and eyes of burning gold.

He crashed through the cabin door and into the dawn.

And Eloin could only watch as two alphas collided in a storm of teeth and fury.

The fight lasted less than 5 minutes.

The was magnificent, even weakened.

His wolf moved with deadly grace, each strike precise.

But the poison was still in his blood, slowing him, stealing his strength.

Draven had brought a dozen wolves.

They didn’t fight fairly.

Eloan screamed as they overwhelmed Theren, dragging him down through sheer numbers.

She tried to run to him, but strong arms caught her from behind.

“Easy, little Omega!”

Draven’s voice slithered into her ear as he shifted to human form.

“Wouldn’t want you getting hurt.

Let him go,” she thrashed against his grip.

“He’s dying.

That’s rather the point.

Draven spun her around, his features twisted with triumph.

Did you think I exiled you by chance?

That I just happened to cast out the one wolf who carried the Veilcraftoft mark?

Cold horror washed through her.

You knew.

I’ve known for years.

Your grandmother was clever, hiding you in plain sight.

But she kept decoy journals, and when she died, I found them.

They told me enough to piece together the truth.

You’ve been planning this, Eloin breathed.

The exile leading me here, leading you to him.

Draven gestured toward where Theren lay motionless in the snow.

I needed the Alpha King alive to confirm the bond.

But now that he served his purpose, he drew a blade from his belt.

The metal gleaming with an oily black sheen.

Wolf’s bane steel one cut and even an alpha king dyes.

No, here’s how this works.

You’ll complete a mating bond with me.

The mark will transfer and I’ll become the rightful ruler of Pinehart.

Refuse and I’ll make you watch while I cut him apart.

The mark can’t be transferred.

Eloan realized.

He needs me willing.

You’re lying.

She said the mark can’t be transferred.

Uncertainty flickered in Draven’s eyes.

Your grandmother’s journals say otherwise.

My grandmother wrote what she wanted people to find.

Elo forced steel into her voice.

The real secrets were never written down.

Draven’s grip tightened painfully.

Then you’ll tell me how to claim the territory.

I don’t know how.

Then you’d better figure it out.

He dragged her toward the treeine where his wolves waited with chains.

Your alpha king has one day before the poison finishes what my wolves started.

Talk and I might let you say goodbye.

Elo looked back at the broken form, at the blood staining the snow.

His chest still moved, barely.

The bond between them pulsed weakly, fraying.

One day, she had one day to save him.

The camp Draven made was primitive but secure.

Eloan found herself chained to a post at the center, surrounded by wolves who watched her with predatory interest.

On the second day, a familiar face appeared.

Nell.

Aloan’s voice cracked.

What are you doing here?

Her sister looked haggarded.

Dark circles under her eyes.

Two of Draven’s wolves flanked her, but she rushed forward anyway.

“How did you find me?”

Eloan asked.

“I followed Draven’s pack when they left Ashevil.

I’ve been tracking you for days, waiting for a chance to get close.”

“I’m so sorry,” Nell whispered, tears streaming down her face.

“I tried to warn you.

I sent messages, but they intercepted everything.”

“Warn me about what?”

Nell glanced at the guards, then leaned closer.

Draven’s been planning this for years.

He killed grandmother.

He’s the one who ordered the original attack on the Velcrooft family.

The words punched the air from Eloin’s lungs.

He killed.

He wanted the territory.

But when The survived, when you both survived, he had to change his plans.

Elo’s mind reeled.

Her grandmother murdered.

Theren’s family slaughtered.

All for one Alpha’s greed.

How do I stop him?

Nell’s expression shifted.

Something desperate.

There’s only one way.

Grandmother told me before she died.

The bond.

Your bond with the incomplete.

If you complete it, you’ll gain access to the Veilcraft power.

You could destroy Draven entirely.

How do I complete it?

Nell hesitated.

The claiming bite.

He marks you and you mark him.

But completing the bond with an alpha king means sharing his burden, his power, his pain, everything.

Some queens have gone mad.

Others have died.

The weight of the choice settled over Elo.

Complete the bond and possibly die.

Or watch Theren die and let Draven win.

Where is he?

The old ruins half a mile north.

But the poison, Nell swallowed.

He doesn’t have long.

Eloan looked at her sister.

Can you get me free?

The chains are silver.

I can’t touch them.

Nell’s gaze dropped to the mark on Eloin’s wrist.

But you might be able to.

Grandmother said a queen’s mark can burn through any binding.

You just have to believe you’re worthy.

Worthy.

She had spent her entire life being told she was worthless.

But Theren had searched for her for 15 years.

She had saved his life as a child.

And now he was dying because he’d kept his promise.

Believe you’re worthy.

Elo closed her eyes and reached for the warmth of the mark.

It pulsed in response.

She thought of Theren’s kiss, of his words, of the way he’d looked at her like she was the only light in his darkness.

I’m not nothing.

I never was.

The mark flared.

Silver chains began to smoke and sizzle.

And somewhere in the distance, a wolf howled in answering recognition.

Elo ran.

The moment the chains fell away, she was moving, slipping through shadows while chaos erupted behind her.

Nell’s distraction had drawn the guard’s attention just long enough.

Her bare feet flew over frozen ground, guided by the pull of the bond that grew stronger with every step.

The ruins emerged from the darkness like broken teeth against the sky.

And there, in the center of the collapsed structure, she found him.

The was chained to a pillar of black stone, his body hanging limp.

The poison had spread further, dark veins crawling up his neck, across his face.

His breathing was shallow, rattling.

Theren.

Eloin fell to her knees beside him.

I’m here.

I’m going to get you out.

His eyes flickered open.

Still gold, but dimmer, fading.

Eloan.

Her name was barely a breath.

You shouldn’t be here.

Don’t tell me what I should do.

Her fingers found the chains, but these were stronger, reinforced.

She couldn’t break them alone.

The bond.

Theren rasped, you have to complete it.

I know, but it might kill me.

Then don’t.

His hand found hers, weak, but determined.

Let me go.

Take Nell and run.

Live.

Live without you.

Tears spilled down her cheeks.

I’ve spent my whole life feeling empty.

Now I know why.

You’re the piece I’ve been missing.

How am I supposed to live knowing what I lost?

You’d survive.

Surviving isn’t living.

She leaned closer, pressing her forehead to his.

I’d rather die whole than live hollow.

Elo, I’m choosing this.

I’m choosing you.

Not because some mark told me to, but because for the first time in my life, I know exactly what I want.

Something shifted in his expression.

Wonder, hope, and beneath it, a love so fierce it stole her breath.

“Then claim me,” he whispered.

“And let me claim you.”

Elo tilted her head, bearing her throat in the ancient gesture of submission and trust.

The eyes flashed brighter, gold burning through the poison’s darkness.

With the last of his strength, he lunged forward, his teeth finding the place where her neck met her shoulder.

Pain lanced through her, sharp and immediate.

But beneath the pain was something else.

Light, warmth, power flooding through her veins like liquid fire.

She felt him then.

Not just his presence, but his essence.

His memories crashed over her.

Childhood laughter and brutal loss.

Years of searching and hope slowly dying.

And then her face.

Her name burning like a beacon through his darkness.

Eloan.

My Elo.

Finally, tears streamed down her face as she leaned into his wounded shoulder, her own teeth finding his flesh.

The moment she bit down, the world exploded.

Their souls collided and merged, two broken halves becoming whole.

She felt his pain as her own, his strength as her own.

The bond blazed to life, a connection so deep it transcended flesh and bone.

And with it came the power.

Eloin felt it rising from somewhere ancient.

The Veilcraft birthright, the strength of a hundred alpha kings flowing through her because she had been chosen, because [clears throat] she was worthy.

The chains binding Theen shattered.

The poison in his blood began to burn away, consumed by golden light.

And in the distance, Eloin heard Draven’s howl of fury.

“He’s coming,” Theren said, his voice stronger now.

He rose to his feet, pulling her up with him.

“No more running.”

Eloan gripped his hand, feeling the power singing through their bond.

“We end this tonight.”

Theren stared at her.

She wasn’t the frightened Omega he’d found in that cabin.

She wasn’t the broken girl Asheville had discarded.

She was a queen.

Together, he asked.

Eloan faced the darkness beyond the ruins, where shadows were moving.

Where Draven’s wolves were closing in together, she agreed.

The first wolves burst from the treeine.

And side by side, the Alpha King and his queen prepared to fight for their future.

They came like shadows given teeth.

Draven’s wolves poured from the forest.

A wave of snarling fury.

Elo felt Theren shift beside her.

His massive black wolf form materializing in a blur of midnight fur.

He met the first attackers with savage grace.

His jaws finding throats.

His claws tearing through flesh.

But there were too many.

Eloin reached for the power inside her.

It came easier now responding to her will.

Golden light erupted from her palms, striking wolves mid leap, sending them tumbling through the snow.

I can do this.

She realized, “I can fight.”

For precious minutes, they held the line together.

Alpha King and Queen moving in perfect synchronicity.

Their bond allowing them to anticipate each other’s movements.

Then Draven appeared.

He was larger than she remembered.

His wolf form monstrous and wrong.

His eyes glowed red, and black veins pulsed beneath his silver fur.

He’s been using the wolf’s bane on himself.

Theren’s voice echoed through their bond, corrupting his own blood to gain power.

Can we defeat him together?

Only together?

Draven lunged.

The collision was catastrophic.

Theren met him midair, and the two alphas crashed to the ground in a tangle of teeth and claws.

Eloan tried to help, but Draven’s wolves closed in, forcing her to defend herself.

She fought desperately, golden light flashing.

But for every wolf she struck down, two more appeared.

Through the chaos, she felt it.

A spike of agony through the bond.

Theren’s pain.

No.

She spun toward the fighting alphas just in time to see Draven’s corrupted claws tear across Theron’s throat.

Blood sprayed across the snow.

The massive form crumpled.

The world stopped.

Aloan screamed, a sound that wasn’t entirely human.

She was already running, falling to her knees beside Theren’s fallen form, her hands pressing desperately against the wound that pumped crimson between her fingers.

No, no, no.

Tears blurred her vision.

Stay with me, please.

His wolf form shimmerred, fading back to human.

His amber eyes found hers, dimming with each passing second.

Elo.

Blood bubbled at his lips.

Run.

I’m not leaving you.

Please.

His hand found hers, weak and trembling.

Live for me.

You promised.

Her voice broke.

You promised you’d never leave me again.

Something flickered in his fading gaze.

Regret, love, acceptance.

Some promises, he whispered.

“We can’t keep.”

His eyes closed.

The bond between them guttered like a candle in the wind.

“How touching.”

Draven’s voice cut through her grief.

He had shifted back to human form.

Blood dripping from his claws.

Love makes you vulnerable, little Omega.

You should have stayed forgotten.

Elo didn’t respond.

The emptiness inside her was too vast.

The heartbeat fluttered against her palm, barely there, fading.

This can’t be how it ends.

Now then, Draven crouched beside her.

Let’s discuss the transfer of power.

His hand reached for her, and something inside Eloin shattered.

Not broke, shattered.

Every wall she’d ever built, every limitation she’d accepted, every voice that had told her she was worthless, all of it crumbled to dust.

I am not nothing.

The mark on her wrist blazed white hot.

I am not worthless.

Power erupted from her core.

A tidal wave of golden light that exploded outward in all directions.

I am the Queen of Pinehart.

Draven flew backward, his body slamming against the ancient stones hard enough to crack them.

His wolves howled in agony, scattering like shadows before dawn.

And you will not take him from me.

Eloan rose to her feet, and she was no longer the frightened Omega from Ashevail.

Light poured from her skin, her eyes, and her very soul.

The ground trembled beneath her feet.

“Impossible!”

Draven snarled, struggling to rise.

You’re just an Omega.

I was never just an Omega.

Eloin’s voice resonated with harmonic depth.

I was hidden, protected, waiting.

She raised her hand and Draven froze, his body locked in place.

You killed my grandmother.

You slaughtered Theren’s family.

You’ve spent years manipulating and murdering for power you were never meant to have.

She stepped closer.

And now you will answer for all of it.

Wait.

Real fear flickered in his corrupted eyes.

We can make a deal.

The only thing I want, Eloin said softly.

Is justice, she closed her fist.

Draven’s scream cut short as golden light consumed him from within.

The corruption in his blood ignited, burning through him like wildfire.

Within seconds, nothing remained but ash scattering on the winter wind.

The remaining wolves fled into the forest.

Silence fell.

Eloin’s power receded, leaving her trembling.

She collapsed beside Theren, her hands finding his chest.

Nothing.

No.

She pressed harder, her healing light flickering weakly.

Come back, please.

Still nothing.

Alone bent over him, her forehead pressed to his, tears falling onto his cold skin.

The bond between them was a thread so thin it was nearly invisible.

“I can’t do this alone,” she whispered.

I don’t want to be queen without my king.

She kissed him soft and desperate and full of every word she hadn’t had time to say.

And through their dying bond, she poured everything she had left.

Every drop of power, every spark of light, every piece of her soul that belonged to him anyway.

Come back.

Come back.

Come back.

For an endless moment, nothing happened.

Then the gasped, his body arched beneath her, his eyes flying open, blazing gold so bright it was almost white.

The wound at his throat knitted closed, flesh reforming, blood retreating.

“Eloen,” her name was a ragged prayer on his lips.

“I’m here.”

She was laughing and crying at once.

“I’ve got you,” he pulled her down to him, crushing her against his chest.

“I felt it,” he murmured against her hair.

I was falling into darkness and then there was light.

Your light calling me home.

I told you.

She pulled back to meet his eyes.

I’m not going anywhere.

Theren’s hand found the mark on her wrist, then moved to the fresh claiming mark on her throat.

My queen, he said softly.

My king, she answered.

When he kissed her this time, it wasn’t brief or desperate.

It was slow and deep and full of promise.

A beginning, not an ending.

Dawn broke over the Pinehart Mountains, painting the snow in shades of rose and gold.

Elo stood at the edge of the ruins.

Theren’s arm wrapped around her waist, watching as wolves emerged from the forest.

Not Draven’s corrupted pack, but others.

Wolves who had been hiding, waiting for the true Alpha to return.

They came in pairs and groups, drawn by the power that had blazed through the night.

One by one, they approached and bowed their heads in submission.

They’re acknowledging you, Theren said quietly.

Both of us.

Among the newcomers, Eloin spotted a familiar face.

Nell burst from the treeine, running toward her with open arms.

“How did you escape the camp?”

Elo asked as her sister crashed into her.

“When your power exploded,” every wolf in a mile radius felt it.

The guards fled.

“I just walked out.”

Nell pulled back, laughing and crying.

“You did it!

You actually did it!

We did it, Eloin said together.

As the sun climbed higher, more wolves arrived.

Word was spreading.

The Alpha King had returned.

The lost queen had risen, and Pinehart would be restored.

The pulled Eloan close, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“What are you thinking?”

She asked.

“That 15 years ago, a little girl saved my life, and I promised to find her again.”

His voice was rough with emotion.

And now she’s saved me twice more and become the most powerful queen our bloodline has ever known.

Eloan smiled, leaning into his warmth, disappointed, terrified.

His arms tightened around her and grateful and so in love I can barely breathe.

She turned in his embrace.

Good, because you’re stuck with me now forever.

Forever.

The smiled.

That rare, devastating smile that transformed his harsh features.

“Then let’s go home, my queen.”

Elo looked out at the mountains that had once seemed so desolate, at the wolves that were becoming their pack, at her sister who had risked everything.

Home.

She had never really known what that meant.

Now she did.

It wasn’t a place or a pack or a territory.

It was the man beside her.

It was the bond that sang between their souls.

It was belonging finally and completely exactly where she was meant to be.

“Yes,” she said, taking Theren’s hand.

“Let’s go home.”

And together, the Alpha King and his queen walked into their future.