Anais POV
The SUV dropped me off at the edge of the Omega Sector, the black paint gleaming like an alien spaceship against the backdrop of peeling paint and sagging porches. I waited until the taillights disappeared before I ran the rest of the way to the small, weathered house I called home.
"Anais!"
My mother, Amber, dropped the basket of laundry she was holding and rushed to embrace me. She smelled of cheap soap and comfort, a scent that made my eyes sting.
"Where have you been?" she asked, pulling back to inspect me, her brow furrowed with worry. "I heard rumors... people saying the new Alpha took you."
"It's okay, Mom," I lied, forcing a smile that felt like glass shattering in my mouth. "I... I got a job. At the Pack House. In the kitchens."
Her face softened, relief washing away the fear. "Oh, honey. That's wonderful. It's safe there."
Safe. The word tasted like ash. If only she knew I was walking back into the lion's den to keep his claws away from her.
We spent the evening in a bubble of false normalcy. I watched her cook, memorizing the way her hands moved, the hum of her voice. I couldn't tell her the truth. I couldn't tell her that I was the Alpha's unwanted mate, or that I had to leave before the sun touched the horizon or risk being hunted down like prey.
I didn't sleep. I lay in my narrow bed, watching the sky turn from black to a bruised purple.
It's time.
With a heavy heart, I slipped out of bed. I needed to leave now to make it back to the estate by sunrise. I tiptoed to my mother's room to whisper a silent goodbye.
The door was slightly ajar.
"Mom?" I whispered, pushing it open.
The metallic stench hit me before my eyes adjusted to the gloom. It was a smell I knew from the butcher shop—thick, coppery, and overwhelming.
My mother wasn't in bed. She was on the floor.
"Mom!"
I rushed forward, my knees skidding in something wet and sticky. I shook her shoulders, desperate for her to wake up, but her eyes were wide open, staring at nothing. Her throat...
A scream tore from my throat, a raw, animalistic sound that shattered the morning silence.
Dimitri POV
The air in my father's study was stale, preserved by stasis runes and the weight of secrets. I sat behind his massive mahogany desk, the leather chair creaking under my shifting weight.
In my hand, I held the Sacred Bonding Contract. The parchment hummed with the Moon Goddess's energy, binding my fate to a girl who had no wolf, no status, and no power.
Why?
I traced the signature of my father, Grafton. He had been a visionary, a Lycan of immense power. He wouldn't have shackled his heir to a wolfless Omega without a reason.
"You will understand in time why she is the only one who can save us."
His final letter burned in my memory. Save us? From what? And how could a girl who smelled like rain-washed lilies and fear save a Pack of predators?
She smells good, my Lycan, Ragnar, grumbled in my head. She is ours.
She is a liability, I countered, though I couldn't deny the way my blood heated when I thought of her terrified eyes.
I stood up and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window. The sky was lightening. The sun was crowning the distant hills, painting the forest in hues of blood and gold.
Sunrise.
I waited. One minute. Five minutes. Ten.
She wasn't here.
A low growl vibrated in my chest. She had defied me. The little mouse had found a spine, or perhaps she was simply foolish enough to think I wouldn't follow through on my threat.
She mocks us! Ragnar roared, pacing in the cage of my mind. Fetch her!
I opened the Mind-Link, my mental voice projecting with the force of a thunderclap. "Davon."
"Alpha?" My Beta's voice was instant.
"She isn't here. Take a squad. Go to the Omega Sector. Drag her back to me."
"On it."
I turned away from the window, my claws lengthening, scratching deep grooves into the windowsill. I would teach Anais Moreno that my word was law.
Thirty minutes later, Davon's voice returned through the link, but the confidence was gone. It was replaced by a grim hesitation.
"Alpha... we found her. But we can't bring her in."
"What do you mean you can't?" I snarled, my patience snapping. "Is she dead?"
"No. She's in custody. The human police arrested her ten minutes ago."
I froze. "Explain."
"She was found covered in blood, screaming over her mother's body. Amber Moreno was murdered last night. The humans think Anais did it."
The world tilted on its axis. Murdered?
Mate is hurt. Mate is in danger! Ragnar was frantic now, clawing at my ribs. Protect!
I didn't care about the murder. I didn't care about the human police. What I cared about was that my mate was in a cage that I didn't build.
"Get her out," I commanded, my voice dropping to a lethal whisper.
"Alpha, it's a homicide investigation. The humans—"
"I don't care about their laws!" I roared, the power of my Alpha Command shaking the link. "She belongs to the Pack. She belongs to me. Call the Mayor. Bribe the Chief. Burn the station down if you have to. Bring her to me. Now."
An hour later, the double doors of my private suite opened.
Davon walked in, guiding Anais. She looked small. Broken. Her clothes were stained with dried blood that wasn't hers. Her eyes were hollow, void of the light I had seen yesterday.
The scent of her hit me—not the sweet lilies I remembered, but a sharp, acrid mix of grief and terror that made my nose wrinkle.
She didn't even look at me. She just stood there, a puppet with its strings cut.
"The police released her into our custody," Davon said quietly. "But they're still building a case."
I walked over to her. Ragnar was whining, urging me to lick the blood from her skin, to comfort her. But I didn't know how to comfort. I only knew how to control.
I reached out, tilting her chin up with a finger. Her skin was ice cold.
"Who did this?" I asked, my voice rough.
She blinked, a single tear cutting a clean track through the grime on her cheek. "I don't know," she whispered, her voice shattered. "I went to say goodbye... and she was gone."
A surge of protective rage, darker and deeper than anything I had ever felt, coiled in my gut. This wasn't a random attack. Rogues didn't leave bodies behind; they ate them. This was a message.
I looked at Davon over her head.
"Forget the human police," I ordered. "Use our trackers. I want to know who murdered her mother. Find them. And bring them to me. Alive."
I looked back down at Anais. She was mine to torment, mine to reject, mine to break. And no one else was allowed to touch what was mine.
