Home looks different through a stranger’s eyes.

I adjust the hood of my cloak, keeping my face hidden as I weave through the busy marketplace of my former territory. Three days of careful travel have brought me to the heart of what was once mine. Now, I barely recognize it.

Three days of utter isolation, as though I no longer exist. Through the strange silver power humming beneath my skin, I feel the odd void where the bonds should be. There’s no emotion, no closeness, no consciousness of each other. Just... nothing. My body aches from the constant strain of maintaining the power—muscles trembling with fatigue, head pounding with each pulse of silver energy. The Kings’ marks on my shoulders burn like brands, a constant reminder of what I’m fighting against. But the physical pain is nothing compared to the hollow emptiness where the bonds should be.

The changes in my old home are subtle but telling. Guards posted at every corner, their hands too close to their weapons. Wolves hurrying about their business with heads down, avoiding eye contact. The once-vibrant market stalls now subdued, as if drawing attention is dangerous.

Jackson’s influence has spread like poison through the pack’s veins. Anger rises with every breath, sharp and hot and ever more difficult to control. Their strength has begun to wane, their laughter less frequent, their pace less steady.

I reach out to my inner wolf, needing her help to mask my scent. Maintaining the illusion of being a simple traveling merchant is exhausting, but necessary. One slip, one hint of my true identity, and everything will unravel.

Warmth fills my mind, my wolf’s presence settling my anxiety like a physical touch. Relief is sharp, her urge to return to the familiarity of our old lives strong. But I’m still Alpha, and I’ll never submit to a traitor.

Through the mate bonds, I feel occasional pulses of my Kings’ emotions—frustration, determination, predatory focus. They’re still hunting, but the distance makes the connections weaker. As long as I keep my own emotions carefully controlled, they won’t be able to pinpoint my location.

“Fresh bread! Still warm!”

I turn at the familiar voice, my heart clenching. Old Thomas stands at his usual stall, but his cheerful call holds an edge of desperation I’ve never heard before. His clothes, once impeccably maintained, show signs of wear. And his eyes—

My resolve falters at the sight of sunken hazel eyes. He’s lost weight, far too much for his age.

Keeping my head down, I approach his stall. “Two loaves, please.”

He wraps the bread with efficiency born of decades of practice. As he hands me the package, his eyes widen slightly. Even with my wolf’s power, something about me must seem familiar.

“Miss...” he starts, but I’m already moving away, letting the crowd swallow me.

Every nerve screams to return and assess the damage. But that won’t solve anything.

Sorry, old friend. I can’t risk him recognizing me. Not yet.

I spend the next few hours gathering intelligence through careful observation and seemingly casual conversations. The picture it paints is grim. Under Jackson’s leadership, the pack has become increasingly isolated. Trade agreements I’d established are being systematically dismantled. Military spending has increased while social programs are cut. Fines for even minor infractions are steep and sometimes arbitrary. My former subjects now cower from their own Alpha in fear, wary of arrest on charges ranging from slander to spreading rumors of dissatisfaction.

Dissent simmers like a slow fire beneath the pack’s complacency. Through the silver-bond, I can taste it—hunger, defiance, lingering faith in the pack’s strength.

It’s the wolves themselves that trouble me most. The vibrant community I’d worked so hard to build is fracturing. Lower-ranking wolves whisper about disappearances, about those who dare question Jackson’s decisions. Even his supporters move with a nervous energy, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop.

As dusk approaches, I make my way to the small herb shop near the pack borders. The signal I’d arranged—a sprig of lavender in the window—confirms Chloe has received my message.

The shop’s bell chimes as I enter. My sister stands behind the counter, and for a moment I hardly recognize her. She’s lost weight, and dark circles shadow her eyes. But when she sees me, her face lights up with fierce joy.

Chloe moves past me and locks the door instead, turning the sign on it from Open to Closed. The moment the bolt slides home, she launches herself into my arms.

“Careful,” I whisper, hugging her tightly despite the protest of my still-healing injuries. “We don’t know who might be watching.”

She pulls back, tears swimming in hazel eyes so like my own. “I knew you’d come back. I saw it, but...” Her voice breaks. “It’s been so awful, Lara. Everything’s falling apart.”

“Tell me everything.” I touch her forehead, my heart breaking at the feel of tears spilling down her cheeks. Whatever Jackson has done to the pack, the pain doesn’t end there.

We move to the back room where she keeps her herbs and medicines. As she prepares tea with shaking hands, the story spills out. Jackson has begun his rule with a show of strength, executing three senior council members who’d opposed his takeover. The message is clear—submit or die.

“He’s paranoid,” Chloe says, passing me a steaming cup. “Sees threats everywhere. Alice isn’t helping—she’s convinced half the pack is plotting against their unborn child.”

“The pup?” I ask carefully.

“Due in four months.” Her lips twist. “They’re already calling it the true heir of Starfang.”

The words hit like physical blows. I force myself to take a sip of tea, using the moment to master my expression. “How many support them?”

“Openly? Most of the military wing. The ones who believe a female Alpha made us weak.” She smiles bitterly. “But there are others, especially among the merchants and craftspeople, who remember how it was before. They’re just too scared to act.”

“And you? Has he suspected anything?”

“No. I play my role well—the weak, sickly sister, no threat to anyone. I’ve been spending most of my time here in the shop.” Her eyes gleam. “He has no idea about my gift. But Lara...” She hesitates. “I’ve been having more visions. Dark ones.”

Ice settles in my stomach. Chloe’s prophet abilities have never been wrong. “Tell me.”

“I see blood. So much blood. The pack torn apart from within. And three shadows with silver eyes, bringing fire and death to our lands.” She grips my hand. “But that’s not the worst part. I see you standing in the middle of it all, your wolf burning silver instead of gold, and behind you...” She shudders. “Three crowns made of moonlight and bone.”

The mate bonds thrum at her words. I press my hand to my chest, trying to quiet the sudden surge of power. “The Alpha Kings.”

“You found them.” It isn’t a question. “Just like I saw.”

“They found me,” I correct grimly. “Marked me. Changed me.” I call up a flicker of silver power, letting her see how it coils around my fingers like living smoke. “But I escaped.”

“Did you?” Her gaze is too knowing. “I feel them in you, sister. Their power runs through your veins now.”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m here now. I’ll find a way to protect the pack, to stop Jackson before—”

A howl splits the night—the patrol signal. Through the shop’s window, I see guards moving with purpose through the streets.

“They’re looking for someone,” Chloe whispers. “A stranger at the north gate, asking questions about you.”

My blood runs cold. “The Kings?”

She closes her eyes, reaching for her gift. “No... someone else. Someone...” Her eyes snap open. “Brooke. The guard who helped you escape. Jackson’s hunters caught her trying to cross the border.”

“No.” I’m already moving toward the door, but Chloe catches my arm.

“You can’t help her! If they see you—”

“They’ll kill her if I don’t. I can’t abandon her. Not after everything she did.” I pull up my hood. “She risked everything to help me. I won’t let her die for it.”

“Wait!” Chloe presses a small pouch into my hands. “Herbs. They’ll help with the pain from your injuries. And this...” She pulls a silver ring from her finger. “It was mother’s. For luck.”

I hug her fiercely. “Stay safe. I’ll find a way to contact you soon.”

“Lara.” Her voice stops me at the door. “In my visions... the Kings aren’t always the enemies you think they are.”

I don’t have time to analyze that cryptic statement. More howls fill the night as I slip into the shadows, my mind already racing with plans. Have to find Brooke. Have to get her out before—

Through the mate bonds, I feel a sudden spike of triumph. Three distinct pulses of predatory satisfaction that make my wolf whimper in recognition.

They’ve found me.

The Kings are coming.

And this time, they aren’t just hunting their mate.

They’re coming to claim the territory.

The question is: which will they destroy first—Jackson’s reign, or what’s left of my heart?