LOGINDAMON'S POV My hand gripped the rope tightly enough that my knuckles had turned white. Rhoda followed my gaze before quietly saying, "You're doing it again." "Doing what?" "Thinking too much." I let out a slow breath. "Occupational hazard." The corner of her mouth twitched. "You're the Alpha." "Exactly." Then my eyes drifted past her and my amusement vanished. The place stretched before us, dark, cool and damp beneath the scattered shafts of sunlight filtering through the canopy. Moss clung to ancient stone. The narrow stream wound through the area exactly as Michaela must have seen it. Somewhere… She'd been here. I could sense it. Her scent still hung faintly in the air. "You're quiet." My attention returned briefly to Rhoda before returning to my surroundings. She was watching me. "I usually am," I said with a shrug that might have been convincing if it hadn't been so stiff. Rhoda didn't argue. She simply looked away. We began moving. The bottom of the plac
DAMON'S POVIt had been years since I'd last suffered a panic attack. I couldn't even remember how I usually behaved afterward.What I did remember was what triggered them.A particularly bad encounter with Father.Bloodlust.Or nightmares cruel enough to force me through one or both all over again.Recovering from this one, however, left me with a different kind of shock.I hadn't expected it to happen at all. I'd long believed I'd conquered that part of myself.Discovering that I hadn't...Was surprising.And greatly disturbing.But what unsettled me even more than the attack itself...Was what had caused it.At first, I'd convinced myself I needed Michaela purely because the plan required her.That explanation had been convenient.Safe.It was also incomplete.Because sometimes...No.Truthfully, most of the time...I wanted her so badly it physically hurt.The dormant mate bond undoubtedly played a part.But I knew it wasn't just that.Somewhere along the way I'd come to care for
DAMON'S POVI crouched beside the backpack, staring at it for a long moment before my fingers finally obeyed me.My hands trembled as I tugged it open.Food.A half-empty water flask.A flashlight.Two maps.One new.One so old the edges had begun to fray.And tucked between them...A thick research text.Moonshade and Other Rare Floras.Underneath the test lay another book. I'm about to reach for it when Rhoda speaks."Mason gave her that map," Rhoda murmured quietly as she came to stand beside me.I didn't answer.I couldn't.I closed my eyes for the briefest second, refusing to let my thoughts take shape.Because if this was Michaela's bag...Why was it abandoned here?At the edge of whatever this place was."Do you think she dropped it?" Rhoda asked.Her voice was careful.Too careful.She already knew the answer.I looked at the bag again. It hadn't simply been placed down. The straps were twisted. One buckle had snapped.Dirt clung stubbornly to the fabric as though it'd skidded
DAMON'S POV "I know you're still angry." The crunch of leaves beneath my boots filled the silence before my answer. "I am." The admission surprised us both. Rhoda lowered her gaze. "I figured." Another stretch of silence settled between us. "I keep replaying it," she said eventually. "And I've realized it was a terrible move... talking to Soorayah." My jaw tightened. "It was." She gave a small, guilty nod. "I know." For a few moments, neither of us spoke. Then I finally asked the question that had lingered in my mind since that day. "Why?" Rhoda stared ahead. "I thought I was protecting you." "You weren't." "I know that now." "No." I stopped walking. She stopped with me. "You weren't protecting me." I met her eyes. "You were deciding for me." The words landed harder than I'd intended. Rhoda didn't argue. She couldn't. "I know." She swallowed. "I'd spent so many years worrying about you that..." A quiet, humorless laugh escaped her. "I forgot we weren
DAMON'S POV"Michaela!"My voice cut through the Wilds before disappearing into the endless silence.No answer.I cupped my hands around my mouth and shouted again."Michaela!"Nothing.I had long since stopped caring whether calling her name through a forest rumored to be home to creatures older than memory and every bit as deadly as the legends claimed was foolish. If there was even the slightest chance she could hear me...I'd keep shouting until my voice gave out.The silence pressing in around us did little to soothe my nerves.No birds sang overhead.No insects buzzed beneath the tangled undergrowth.Even the wind seemed reluctant to disturb the towering trees.An oppressive stillness hung over the forest, swallowing every sound unfortunate enough to wander into it.I'd heard countless stories about the Northern Wilds. Most had always sounded like little more than frightening tales meant to keep reckless children away.Until Father sent an expedition into the Wilds.None of them
MICHAELA'S POV I still hadn't recovered from the shock of what I was seeing when I heard footsteps, Soft and measured, approaching where I lay. I couldn't bring myself to move. The forest above remained as eerily silent as ever. No wind. No birds. No distant cries. Nothing but the steady rhythm of footsteps drawing closer. Within moments, my attention shifted completely from the creature hovering above me. Whoever was coming... They were close. My pulse quickened. And then I saw her. I froze. Completely. For a heartbeat, I simply stared. My breath caught. My mind refused to make sense of what my eyes were seeing. Because it couldn't. Recognition came slowly... Then all at once. I had to wonder if I was hallucinating. If the pain, the blood loss, everything I'd endured had finally broken something inside my head. Silence stretched between us. She stood over me, watching with dark, scrutinizing eyes. Eyes I recognized as my stomach dropped. Ice flooded my veins. I knew
“You,” I whisper, stunned. “Me,” she replies. She closes the door with deliberate care, the soft click of the latch sounding far louder than it should. Then she turns and takes slow, unhurried strides into the room as if she owns it. As if she has always owned it. In the full light, I see her
When our lips meet, every form of reasoning obliterates. My mind combust into electric sensations. He growls, taking control of the kiss. Mouth claiming mine with the urgency of a collapsing star. Heat pours between us, reckless and blinding. When my lips part, it isn't an invitation. It’s ine
After saying goodbye to Bailey, I head towards rehearsals, feet practically bouncing in anticipation. I weave between stalls, the hum of pre-festival chatter around me, but stop short when I see him — leaning against the edge of the square, half-shifted, green eyes glinting under the lanterns.
“So let me get this straight,” I say slowly. “You want to announce me as your mate in order to placate the human rebels.” He nods. A small, unexpected twinge settles in my chest. Disappointment. That he doesn’t want me simply because… he wants me. I shut it down almost immediately. I don







