Battle has a scent all its own.

I breathe it in as we prepare our defenses—metal and magic, fear and determination, the electric tang of Lara’s silver power still dancing through the air. Through our mate bonds, I feel her calculating possible strategies, her tactical mind working in perfect sync with Alaric’s.

“The main force will come from the north,” she says, pointing to the temple layout sketched in silver fire above the war table. “Jackson knows these grounds. He’ll try to funnel us toward the western courtyard where his archers will have clear lines of sight.”

“Then we don’t give him the chance.” Alaric’s finger traces a different route. “The old tunnels beneath the temple—they’re still structurally sound?”

“Most of them. But he’ll expect us to use them. That’s why...” She hesitates, glancing at the guard we captured earlier. The one who’d tried to warn us before an arrow silenced him. “That’s why we need to know what you meant about the ritual. About checking the temple scrolls.”

I study the dead guard’s face, memorizing his features. Something about his scent had been familiar, but I can’t place it. Another piece of this increasingly complex puzzle.

“The archives are in the east wing,” Lucas reports, materializing from the shadows where he’s been scouting. “Heavily guarded, but there’s a weakness in their patrol pattern. They’re too focused on the obvious entrances.”

“Because they don’t know about this one.” Lara moves to a seemingly solid wall, pressing her hand against ancient stone. Silver power flares at her touch, and a hidden door slides silently open. “The female Alphas had their own ways in and out. Ways that were forgotten after the Great War.”

Through our bonds, I feel her satisfaction at finally having some advantage in her own territory. Feel how naturally she works with us now that she’s stopped fighting the mate bonds.

But something else lingers in her scent as well. Not just determination or anxiety, but... loss. She glances back at where her sister sits propped up in bed, barely breathing. Where Sarah works tirelessly to slow the inevitable march of prophecy.

“Our scouts report movement in the city,” I add, sharing what my wolf has sensed. “Jackson’s called in his allies. At least three other packs are mobilizing.”

“The River Pack and Moon Valley for certain,” Alaric muses. “But the third...”

“Shadow Pack.” Lara’s voice holds grim certainty. “They’ve been raiding our borders for months. Jackson must have offered them territory in exchange for support.”

I growl low in my throat. The Shadow Pack is notorious for their guerrilla tactics, appearing and disappearing like smoke. If they’ve joined Jackson’s forces...

More complications. More danger.

“How many?” Lucas asks quietly.

Lara closes her eyes, reaching out with senses honed by years of leading this territory. “At least sixty from River Pack. Another forty from Moon Valley. Shadow Pack is harder to count, but I’d estimate thirty experienced warriors.”

“Plus Jackson’s personal guard,” I add. “And whatever mercenaries he’s hired.”

“We’re outnumbered at least four to one,” Alaric concludes. “Not counting whatever surprises they have planned.”

A sound from the healing alcove draws our attention. Chloe stirs restlessly, prophecy making her skin glow with silver light. “The dark king gathers his forces,” she murmurs. “Blood calls to blood, power calls to power...”

Sarah moves to check her pulse, but the young prophet’s eyes suddenly snap open, blazing with unnatural clarity. “The scrolls,” she gasps. “You have to find them before the moon rises. Before he completes the circle...”

“What circle?” Lara demands, but Chloe has already slipped back into uneasy sleep.

For a moment, no one speaks. Anger and helplessness both swirl around our mate. She thinks her sister is going to die, and I don't blame her. Even my wolf senses the approaching end. Sarah may be the best healer in these lands, but prophets can only bend fate so much. When Chloe prophesies, her body has to pay the price.

The sound of marching feet echoes from above, growing closer. Jackson’s forces moving into position.

“We’re out of time,” I growl. “We need to move.”

Lara nods sharply. “Lucas, take Sarah and Chloe through the tunnel network. Get them somewhere safe.”

“And you?” my brother asks, though we all feel her intention through our bonds.

“We’re going to the archives.” Her smile holds predatory promise. “It’s time we learned what Jackson’s really planning.”

I bare my teeth in answering challenge. Finally, some real action. “How do you want to play this?”

She considers for a moment, silver power coiling around her like living smoke. Through our bonds, I feel her drawing on our combined strength, letting it settle into that perfect balance we found earlier. Where her control over the power no longer struggles with her reluctance to be dominated, supported.

Fierce pride swells in my chest, quickly followed by darker lust. My mates' mating scent spikes, and I see Lucas swallow hard.

“Fast and quiet,” she decides, seemingly unaware of the effect she has on us. “Get in, find the scrolls, get out before they realize we’re there.” Her eyes meet mine. “Think you can handle subtle, warrior?”

I grin, letting her feel my wolf’s eager response. “For you, little Alpha? I can be whatever you need.”

“Careful brother,” Lucas drawls as he helps Sarah gather her supplies. “Your soft side is showing.”

I growl at him, but there’s no real heat in it. We all feel too good right now—the mate bonds humming with shared purpose, our wolves united in the hunt. Our mate is learning to use the power, to trust us, to love us.

She may not admit it yet, but my brothers and I sense the change. In her, in us. We still don't have her wolf's loyalty yet, but our strategy is working. We're winning her over.

“Focus,” Alaric commands, but his tone holds a hint of amusement. “Lara, you know the archives best. Lead the way.”

She nods, then pauses. Through our bonds, I feel her gathering her courage before she speaks again. “There’s something else you should know. About the temple’s defenses.”

“What about them?” Alaric asks.

Her gaze meets mine first, then shifts to my other two brothers. There is challenge and pain in her eyes, as well as pride and grief. The conflict plays across her face, but when she answers, there's no waver in her voice.

“They’re tied to the female Alpha bloodline. To the silver power.” She takes a deep breath. “If I can access them, tap into the old wards...”

“You’ll have control of the entire temple complex,” Alaric finishes, understanding dawning in his eyes. “Every door, every passage, every hidden trap.”

“Yes. But...” She hesitates. “It will take a lot of power. More than I can safely channel alone.”

The implications hang in the air. She’s asking for our help—really asking, not just accepting it as necessity. Through our bonds, I feel how much that admission costs her pride.

“Whatever you need,” I say simply.

Lucas nods agreement. “We’re with you, little Alpha.”

“All the way,” Alaric adds, his usual cold mask softening slightly.

She blinks, clearly not expecting such immediate support. Then her jaw sets with familiar determination. “Right. Lucas, get them to safety. We’ll—”

A massive explosion rocks the temple above us, sending dust raining from ancient stones. Through the chaos, I catch a familiar scent that makes my blood run cold.

“Wolfsbane charges,” I snarl. “Military grade.”

“Impossible,” Lara breathes. “Those formulas are kept under lock and key. Only the Alpha has access to..."

She trails off as understanding hits us all at once. Through our bonds, I feel the moment the pieces click into place.

"Jackson," Alaric says grimly.

Another explosion shakes the chamber. This one feels different—not just destruction, but something else. Something that makes the very air crackle with dark energy.

“The ritual,” Chloe whimpers in her sleep. “He’s starting the ritual...”

Lara’s eyes meet mine, silver fire dancing in their depths. “Still think you can handle subtle?”

I bare my teeth in a fierce grin. “Subtle just went out the window, little Alpha. Now we do things my way.”

Through our bonds, I feel her wolf’s answering challenge. Feel how perfectly she balances between us—Alaric’s strategy, my strength, Lucas’s cunning. All of it flowing together through the mate bonds, turning us from four separate Alphas into something entirely new.

Something deadly.

“Then let’s go hunting,” she says softly. “And show them exactly what happens when you corner four Alphas who’ve learned to work as one.”

Above us, Jackson’s forces continue their assault on the temple. But they don’t realize what they’re really attacking.

They’re not facing a runaway mate or three Alpha Kings anymore.

They’re facing a united front.

And we’re done playing defense.