Cassandra’s POV
The cold night air sliced against my skin, sharp and unforgiving. I pulled my black hood tighter over my head, shielding my face from the wind and the watchful eyes I knew lurked in the shadows of the Pack grounds.
Every step I took was deliberate, each footfall soundless against the dirt path. I’d memorized this route, traced it in my mind night after night as I waited for this moment.
Now, I was done waiting.
The Pack was unraveling. Whispers had replaced orders, and uncertainty loomed where certainty used to rule. My father, once unwavering, now stood paralyzed, indecisive. He let the Elders murmur doubts. He let them kneel to her. To Katrina.
The thought of her name lit something vicious inside me.
She wasn’t supposed to have the ring. She wasn’t supposed to shift into that glowing wolf. It should’ve been me. It was always supposed to be me.
My fingers curled into fists, nails digging into the flesh of my palms. I didn’t care about the sting. I welcomed it. Pain meant I was still in control. Pain kept me focused.
I reached the edge of the territory just as the moon slipped behind a thick cloud. A heavy silence blanketed the trees, broken only by the soft rustle of leaves overhead.
There, beneath the looming baobab tree, he stood.
The rogue Alpha.
His silhouette was unmistakable, broad, still, utterly composed. He leaned against the gnarled trunk, arms crossed over his chest, posture deceptively relaxed. Always watching. Always waiting. The shadows clung to him like a second skin, and the silver clasp of his cloak caught the light of the moon just enough to glint.
His face, as always, was hidden beneath a dark mask. I had never seen what was behind it. Never heard his real name. But I didn’t need to. His reputation spoke louder than any identity. He was powerful, unpredictable. A whisper in council halls. A nightmare to those who crossed him.
And tonight, I needed him.
I approached slowly, careful not to startle. My heartbeat was steady, but I was alert, every sense heightened. There was no margin for error here.
“You came,” I said, my voice low but firm.
He tilted his head, gaze unreadable beneath the mask. “You summoned me,” he replied. His voice was deep, smooth, but with an edge that made the hairs at the back of my neck rise.
I took a breath to steady myself. “The Pack is in chaos,” I said. “Katrina—she has the Lunar Flame. The ring chose her. The Elders are questioning everything. Even my father…” I paused, the taste of the words bitter on my tongue. “Even he is silent.”
The rogue let out a low, humorless chuckle. “So,” he murmured, “the mighty Cassandra finally seeks help from the dark corners.”
I felt my jaw tighten, but I swallowed my pride. This wasn’t about dignity. Not now.
“I need to know what can be done,” I said. “And I know you have… resources. Forbidden ones.”
He was quiet for a long moment. Then, he stepped away from the tree, boots crunching softly against the earth.
“And what do you want, Cassandra?” he asked, tone quiet but loaded.
I opened my mouth, but the answer didn’t come immediately.
I thought of my father again. The way he watched but never acted. The way his silence had screamed louder than any command. He’d raised me to be strong, to lead. To carry the Pack’s legacy. But now? Now he let everything slip through his fingers. Maybe he was waiting for Katrina to succeed. Maybe he had already accepted her.
My blood turned cold.
I straightened my spine. “I want to be the true bearer,” I said slowly. “Not her. Me.”
Another pause.
The wind stirred the leaves above us, the branches creaking in response.
Then, finally, he nodded once.
“There is a way,” he said.
A rush of air left my lungs. Relief swept through me, almost enough to make me stagger. I stepped closer, unable to hide the urgency in my voice. “Tell me.”
He studied me for a beat longer before speaking again, each word deliberate.
“It won’t be clean. It won’t be easy. And it won’t be reversible.”
I nodded. “I don’t care.”
His gaze didn’t waver. “You’ll have to surrender something of value. Something you’re not ready to give.”
“What?” I asked. “What do you mean?”
He took another step toward me, close enough now that I could feel the chill radiating from him.
“To claim what isn’t yours by birth,” he said, “you must give up what is yours by soul.”
I stared at him, heart pounding. The words settled like stone in my chest, heavy with meaning I didn’t yet understand.
“Fine, whatever. Just make me the damn heir of the Lunar Flame.”