The War Room smelled of stale coffee and fresh betrayal. Iris sat in the corner, her leg propped up on a velvet stool, looking every inch the fragile victim. Her skin was pale, her eyes wide and glistening with unshed tears as she looked up at Cole.
"She needs this, Cole," Iris said, her voice trembling just enough to sound sincere. "Chloe has been… lost. Leading the scout team to the old silver mine will help her redeem her honor. It’s a low-risk sweep. Let her prove she’s still a warrior."
Beta Marcus nodded enthusiastically, his oily smile failing to reach his eyes. "It’s a generous suggestion, Alpha. The pack needs to see that Chloe is still useful, despite her… instability."
I stood in the center of the room, mud still drying on my boots from patrol. I didn't look at my sister. I looked at my mate.
Cole rubbed his temples, his exhaustion radiating off him in waves. He didn't even look at me. He just wanted the problem gone. He wanted the tension out of his house so he could focus on the girl who had returned from the dead.
"Fine," Cole muttered, signing the mission order without reading it. "Take a squad. Sweep the mine. If it’s clear, we’ll use it for storage. Just… go, Chloe."
His dismissal hurt more than a physical blow. Nova, my wolf, curled into a ball in the back of my mind, too weak to even whimper.
***
The entrance to the Blackwood Mine gaped like a toothless mouth in the side of the mountain. The rain had turned to a freezing drizzle, slicking the rocks with ice.
"Stay close," I ordered, my voice echoing in the damp tunnel.
Elena Cross fell in step behind me. We had been friends since pup school. She was the one who braided my hair before my first shift. Now, she wouldn't meet my eyes. She kept checking her watch, her scent spiking with anxiety—acrid sweat and burnt sugar.
"You okay, El?" I asked, pausing as the tunnel split.
"Just cold," she murmured, gripping her rifle tighter. "Let’s check the lower cavern. That’s where the heat signatures were."
We descended into the dark. The air grew heavy, tasting of sulfur and stagnant water. The beam of my flashlight cut through the gloom, illuminating rusted tracks and rotting support beams. We reached the heavy steel blast doors of the main storage vault.
I stepped inside, sweeping the room with my light. "Clear. Nothing here but dust and—"
*Clang.*
The sound of the heavy steel door slamming shut behind me was deafening.
I spun around, rushing to the small reinforced window. Elena stood on the other side, her hand on the locking mechanism. Her face was pale, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"Elena! Open the door!"
"I'm sorry, Chloe," she sobbed, her voice muffled by the thick steel. "Iris… she knows about my brother’s gambling debts. She said she’d pay them off. She promised she wouldn't hurt my family."
"Elena, look at me!" I screamed, pounding on the metal. "This isn't you!"
"Goodbye, Chloe."
She turned and ran.
Panic flared in my chest. I tried to mind-link Cole, to scream for help, but the rock walls were lined with lead and silver ore—a natural dead zone. And then I heard it. A hiss.
Vents in the ceiling popped open. A thick, shimmering gray mist poured into the room.
*Silver Gas.*
It hit my lungs like liquid fire. My knees buckled. I tried to shift, to call Nova forward to heal me, but the connection was severed instantly. The gas paralyzed the shifting gene, locking my bones in human form. I fell to the cold stone floor, gasping, my muscles seizing.
Through the haze, I saw a red light blinking on a crate in the corner.
*00:10.*
C4.
Iris hadn't just sent me to investigate. She had sent me to be erased.
*00:05.*
I closed my eyes. *Cole,* I thought, the name a jagged prayer in my mind. *I didn't betray you.*
*00:03.*
Suddenly, the floor beneath me didn't explode—it vanished. A grate I hadn't seen was kicked open from below. A hand, gloved in tactical black, shot up and grabbed my combat vest.
"Gotcha," a rough voice growled.
I was yanked downward into a narrow maintenance shaft just as the world above turned white.
*BOOM.*
The explosion was a physical hammer. The shockwave slammed into us, throwing me against the hard earth of the tunnel floor. The ceiling above collapsed, tons of rock sealing the exit forever.
But the pain wasn't from the fall. It was from the bond.
It felt like a hook had been ripped out of my heart. A scream tore from my throat, raw and bloody, as the connection to Cole snapped. Not because he rejected me, but because the explosion had masked my life force. To him, I was gone. Vaporized.
I lay in the dirt, coughing up blood, the agony of the severed bond making me wish the fire had taken me.
"Stay with me, soldier."
A man loomed over me. He was massive, his aura ancient and terrifyingly powerful. He wore the black combat gear of the Lycan King's elite forces.
Commander Myles Cook. I recognized him from the history books.
He knelt, checking my pulse, his eyes scanning my burns.
"Why?" I rasped, blood bubbling on my lips.
"Because the King doesn't like wasted potential," Myles said, his voice grim. He pulled a syringe from his kit and jammed it into my thigh. "And because I know what it's like to be thrown away."
The pain began to recede, replaced by a cold numbness. Myles lifted me effortlessly into his arms, carrying me deeper into the dark tunnels that led away from Silver Mist territory.
"Chloe Bennett died in that cave," Myles said, his gaze hard as iron. "The question is, who wakes up in her place?"
I looked back at the collapsed tunnel, at the tomb of my past life. I felt the phantom pain of my mate bond, the ghost of Cole’s scent fading into memory.
"River," I whispered, the name tasting of cold water and sharp rocks. "Her name is River."
Myles nodded once. "Then let's get you home, River."
