The sky grew heavy as night approached. As the final slivers of sun bled out behind the horizon, the moon began its slow ascent, casting a cold, silver light over the ruins ahead. The deepening shadows were our greatest ally, allowing my men and me to vanish into the darkness as we surrounded the structure. It was an old, crumbling fortress, built long ago to resemble a small castle. Time and shifting pack territories had not been kind to it; it was a casualty of the ages, a relic overgrown by thick, choking vines. Its towers leaned like broken teeth against the dark sky, jagged and decaying. In years past, this place might have been a seat of power, but as packs grew, shrank, and changed ownership, the heart of the territory had moved elsewhere. Now, it served only as a hollow shell—the perfect place for someone like Zander to hide his sins. I signaled for the team to hold their positions. We were a circle of predators closing in on a ghost, but I knew the monsters inside were very much alive. My wolf paced restlessly beneath my skin, anxious as I am to find our mate safe and sound.
Hidden within the treeline, my men and I were ghosts in the shadows. We watched the perimeter of the clearing, where the castle sat like a rotting crown in the center of the dense forest. The guards—tiger shifters—patrolled with a lazy, arrogant gait. They moved in a predictable, consistent loop every few minutes, their expressions bored and their postures loose. They didn't bother to mask their scent or tread lightly. It was clear they believed they had already won. Their smug, cocky belief in their own superiority had made them sloppy. They didn't think anyone would dare track them here, let alone find a way to infiltrate their stronghold. That mindset would be their undoing.
I signaled for my men to hold, my eyes never leaving the structure. The castle was a wreck; vines choked the stone walls, one tower leaned at a precarious angle, and the roof had mostly surrendered to the elements years ago. It was a ruin, yet it held everything I cared about. I scanned every inch of the land, tracking the rhythmic movements of the guards and mapping out the silent path we would take through the overgrown brush. My blood was cold, my focus absolute. My men were in position, waiting for the single flick of my hand to commence the operation and tear this place apart.
A large, ink-black shadow snaked its way across the open field, slipping into the treeline where we were stationed. The moment it was safely hidden from the tiger shifters' view, my younger brother emerged from the darkness. He wore black tactical gear that mirrored my own, his hair slicked back, and his expression focused. I watched as his gloved hands gave a sharp tug to his cuffs, settling into his gear. His smoky-gray eyes scanned the men in their positions before landing on me. "Any luck locating either of them?" I shook my head. "None yet. You?"
"No," he sighed. "But I did manage to map the layout of the interior and pinpoint the location of nearly every shifter inside." I nodded, a sense of grim satisfaction settling in. "That's more than a start. Good work." He scoffed, a flash of the old sibling rivalry sparking in his eyes. "What, you didn't think I could do it? Just who do you think I am, Kayden? I didn't become co-captain of the Royal Knights without having the skills to back it up."
I rolled my eyes at his bravado. "That's not what I meant, and you know it. I'm the one who trained you, remember? I, of all people, know exactly what you're capable of. There isn't another soul I'd trust with this recon besides you." The playful tension vanished as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by the weight of the mission. We both turned our gaze back toward the crumbling castle, the blueprint of our assault finally taking shape.
I saw some of the tension leave Asher's shoulders as he nodded. "Where's Dad?" he asked, his eyes searching the faces of the men gathered in the brush. I looked toward the castle, my gaze fixed as if I could see through the stone walls to the man stationed on the other side. "He's leading the secondary unit from the rear. We have them boxed in." Asher nodded, accepting the strategy. "And our sisters? How are they holding up?"
"Aside from the hell Elize raised when we told her she had to stay with the pack, I haven't heard a word," I sighed. "I'm taking that as a good sign for now." Asher didn't waste any more time. He opened the pack's mind-link, and I felt the sudden, sharp influx of information as he projected the layout of the castle directly into our heads. It was a perfect mental map—every corridor, every guard post, and every crumbling staircase he had scouted. When the projection faded, he gave me a silent nod and slipped into his starting position, vanishing once more into the shadows. I took a deep breath, the heavy weight of leadership pressing down on me. Through the mind-link, I relayed my final orders to the entire unit.
"Move in the shadows," I commanded, my voice echoing in their minds. "I want a three-man takedown for every one target. Stay close to the belt. I want silent takedowns—don't give them a chance to scream. Your safety is the priority, but do not get cocky. These are tiger shifters. They are powerful, they are fast, and they are desperate. We may outnumber them, but one mistake is all it takes to lose a brother. Let's move."
I looked up at the moon, which had climbed higher in the sky, silvering the edges of the clouds. I took a deep breath, the cold night air stinging my lungs. "Moon Goddess," I whispered inwardly, "please keep my mother and my mate safe until I can reach them. Protect my pack tonight. Guide our hands and our hearts." I looked back at the castle, my mind settling into a state of absolute, calm resolve. I gave the signal. In an instant, the treeline erupted into silent, lethal motion. As I breached the edge of the forest, my heart gave one final, heavy thud against my ribs. Hang in there, Artemis. I'm coming for you.
*
The moment my heels slammed into the floor, the metal shackles around my ankles didn't just bend—they shattered. Jagged shards of silver-lined iron bit deep into my skin. I clamped my teeth down on my tongue, stifling a scream as the sharp sting joined the dull, throbbing ache of my battered ankles. My earlier attempts had already left the skin raw and tender; now, I could feel the warm, thick trickle of fresh blood soaking into the hems of my jeans. I ignored the pain, rolling from my stomach and pushing myself up into a crouch before springing to my feet. Lydia was staring at me, her eyes wide with a mixture of shock and awe, as if she were witnessing a miracle.
I didn't have time to explain. I moved to the wall where the chains for my wrist cuffs were anchored. My hands were still pinned behind my back, making the angle awkward and the leverage nearly impossible. I reached back, blindly fumbling for the excess chain and winding the heavy links tightly around my palms. I braced my feet against the base of the wall and pulled. The metal groaned, and the links dug mercilessly into my hands, but I leaned my entire weight into the effort. I felt the ancient, crumbling mortar begin to crack. With one final, guttural growl of exertion, I gave a violent tug. The heavy iron bolt tore free from the masonry in a cloud of dust and stone chips. I stumbled forward, gasping for air, and offered a silent prayer of thanks to the gods for the immense strength of my tiger heritage. I was still cuffed, but I was no longer a prisoner of the wall.
Lydia's mouth hung open, her eyes tracking my every move as if she were watching a force of nature. I ignored the clatter of the chains as I unwound them from my bloodied palms and let them hit the floor. The cuffs were still locked around my wrists behind my back, so I leaned forward, using my flexibility to maneuver my arms down past my hips and under my feet. I stepped through the circle of my own arms, bringing my bound hands to the front. The relief in my shoulders was instantaneous, the agonizing tension finally easing somewhat.
I didn't waste a second. I didn't have a floor to slam these against, so I braced myself and drove the center of the metal cuffs down onto my rising knee. The combination of the downward force and the upward thrust of my leg was too much for the metal; the silver-lined iron shattered instantly, falling away in jagged pieces. I turned toward Lydia, who was still frozen in the middle of the floor. I crouched before her and gripped the heavy cuff around her right ankle. With a sharp, sudden twist of my wrists, I snapped the metal like it was made of glass. I moved to the left ankle and did the same, the iron groaning before splintering apart.
Lydia's mouth gaped as she watched her restraints fall away. It wasn't until I reached for the thick silver cuffs at her wrists that she finally found her voice. "Jesus... I knew tigers were strong, Ari, but I never realized... I've never seen anything like you." I offered her a quick, fierce smile as the silver gave way under my grip, freeing her first hand. I moved to the second, snapping it with a final, satisfying crack. I caught the remaining heavy shards before they could fall into her lap—knowing even the touch of the broken silver would burn her—and tossed them across the room.
Once the chains were gone, I stood and held out my hands. Lydia took them, and I pulled her steadily to her feet. I kept a firm grip for a moment, checking her balance; I was terrified she might be more injured than she was letting on, but she stood firm, offering me a small, grateful smile. "Thank you, Ari," she whispered. I let her go and immediately turned my focus back to the cell. "So, what are we going to do now?" Lydia asked from behind me as I stepped toward the heavy iron bars to inspect them.
My eyes swept over the cage until I noticed it—a patch of deep, orange-red rust eating away at the top of the center bars where they met the ceiling. A small smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. Without a word, I lashed out with a lightning-fast kick. The metal let out a heavy groan under the force, the sound echoing down the dark hallway. I felt Lydia hovering at my shoulder, watching me with rapt interest. She didn't question me this time; she just watched. I pivoted and kicked a second time, putting my full weight behind the strike. The rusted header finally gave way with a sharp, metallic snap. The top of the bar broke free from the ceiling, and I heard Lydia's sharp gasp of surprise as it dangled loosely in my hand.
I delivered a sharp kick to the base of the loosened bar. It sheared off at the bottom and hit the ground with a loud, metallic clatter. One by one, I repeated the process with the neighboring bars. The rust was my silent ally; with each strike, the iron groaned and snapped until a wide enough gap emerged. We were no longer trapped. I stepped through the jagged opening first, then reached back to help Lydia. As she emerged from the confinement of the cell, a hopeful smile finally managed to light up her pale, exhausted face.
But as I turned to survey the rest of the dungeon, my blood ran cold. In the sickly, flickering yellow light of the lone bulb, I finally understood why Zander had chosen that specific cell for us. Directly across from ours, the ceiling had long ago caved in. Poking out from beneath a heavy slab of fallen masonry and rotted timber was a terrifying sight: the bleached, skeletal remains of a human hand. It was impossible to tell how long the person had been there, or if they had been trapped alive when the ceiling collapsed. As we moved cautiously up the narrow corridor, I realized our cell had been the only one left intact. Every other door we passed was twisted or hanging off its hinges, the interiors filled with rubble and the remnants of a forgotten history. This wasn't just a prison; it was a tomb.
As we reached the heavy door Zander had exited through, I noticed the destruction on the left side of the hall was even worse. The cells there had been completely crushed, the walls buckled and pulverized. I couldn't tell what had caused that level of devastation, but I noticed a faint, natural light filtering down from a jagged hole in the ceiling above a massive pile of rubble. The debris—a mix of broken stone, rotted wood, and twisted metal—looked almost intentionally stacked, as if someone had begun clearing the area before the ceiling gave way.
I looked back at the thick, rusting bronze door at the end of the hall. I didn't need to see through it to know that Zander would have stationed guards there. It was the obvious exit, which made it a death trap. I turned to Lydia. She was watching me with those wide, trusting eyes, and the weight of my responsibility for her pressed against my chest. I wasn't going to let her walk into an ambush. Without a word, I turned toward the mountain of debris and began to climb. "Ari, be careful," Lydia whispered, her voice trembling.
I focused on every handhold, testing the stability of the loose stones before putting my weight on them. With every few feet of progress, I reached back, anchoring myself so I could pull Lydia up behind me. Every time my foot slipped, or a stone shifted with a hollow clack, I heard her sharp, worried gasp. I ignored the ache in my body and the sting of the fresh cuts on my ankles. My only mission was to get her through that hole and back to the safety of the pack—back to the family that was likely tearing the world apart looking for her.
Once we reached the summit of the debris pile, I looked up. The hole in the ceiling was only a few feet above us, shifted slightly to the right. I balanced on my tiptoes, my back nearly grazing the cold stone wall behind us, and craned my neck to see through the opening. The room above was draped in shadows, but they were being chased away by the rhythmic, swaying flicker of orange and yellow light. It looked like the glow of torches or candles dancing in a draft.
I measured the distance. To any ordinary human, this gap would be an impossible hurdle, a leap to nowhere. But the tiger in my blood hummed with a different kind of certainty. We had the power; the only question was whether the floor above—rotting and neglected—would hold our weight when we landed, or if we'd go crashing back down into the dark. I couldn't afford to hesitate. I didn't give myself a second to dwell on the "what ifs."
"Stay here until I've cleared the way," I whispered to Lydia. I coiled my muscles, drawing on every scrap of strength left in my battered legs. I charged the short distance to the edge of the rubble and launched myself into the air. My body soared, gravity momentarily losing its grip as I aimed for the jagged lip of the floor above. For a heartbeat, I was suspended in the flickering light, reaching for a freedom that was finally within my grasp.
I soared high enough that my upper body cleared the lip of the opening, but my momentum faltered, and my pelvis slammed hard against the jagged edge of the hole. I hissed through my teeth, the impact jarring my spine, but I didn't let myself slip. Gritting my teeth against the pain, I dug my fingers into the floorboards and hauled the rest of my weight up and through. I rolled onto the floor, gasping for air as I surveyed our new surroundings. We had emerged into what was once a grand trophy room, though it was now a graveyard of forgotten achievements. Shattered glass blanketed the floor, glinting like diamonds in the torchlight, and a collection of tarnished trophies and twisted metal objects lay scattered toward the back.
My eyes were drawn to the walls, which were draped in heavy, moth-eaten tapestries of crimson and black. On the nearest one, I saw it: a proud wolf stitched in silver thread. It was the confirmation I needed. This had once been the seat of a powerful wolf pack, a history now buried under Zander's cruelty. I scrambled back to the ledge and lay flat on my stomach, reaching my hand down into the dark. Lydia was looking up at me, her eyes wide and trembling. "It's okay," I urged, my voice low but firm. "Just do exactly what I did. Push off with everything you've got. Aim for my hand—I won't let you fall."
She took a shaky breath and retreated until her back pressed against the far wall. She took a running start and launched herself upward. She didn't have my height, but her desperation gave her wings. The moment she was within reach, I lunged forward, my fingers locking around her wrist in a vice-like grip. With a guttural growl of effort, I hauled her up and over the edge.
Once I had her safely on the floor, I released her hand. Lydia immediately turned back to look over the edge, staring down into the darkness we had just escaped as if she couldn't believe we were truly out. "Come on, Lydia," I whispered urgently. "We have to move." She turned toward me, a soft, weary sigh escaping her lips. "Thank you for helping me, Artemis. I don't think I could have done any of this without you. I might not even be alive right now." I shook my head, the guilt still gnawing at me. "No... If it weren't for me, you wouldn't have been in this situation in the first place."
Lydia reached out, catching my hands in hers and squeezing them with surprising strength. "Artemis, listen to me. You are my son's fated mate. The Goddess chose you for him, which means your troubles are our troubles. We face this as a family." A warmth I hadn't felt since my capture spread through my chest, chasing away the cold dread of the dungeon. I squeezed her hands back, a genuine smile finally breaking through. The moment of peace was shattered instantly.
The heavy doors at the front of the room burst open with a violent crack. A massive black wolf came hurtling through the air, crashing into the far wall with enough force to make the stone shudder. He hit the floor with a heavy thud, his fur matted with dust. My heart leaped as I saw his eyes shift toward us—bright with a sudden, stunned recognition. But before he could scramble to his feet, a large orange tiger lunged through the doorway, its muscles rippling beneath its striped coat. It ignored the wolf for a heartbeat, its predatory gaze snapping to Lydia and me. Its eyes widened in shock as it found its prisoners standing free in the middle of the trophy room. Then, its lips curled back into a vicious snarl, and it let out a low, guttural growl that vibrated through the floorboards as it took a predatory step toward us.
Before the tiger could take another step toward us, two more large wolves burst into the room, their paws skidding on the shattered glass. Without so much as a glance in our direction, they joined the black wolf, flanking the tiger in a perfectly synchronized circle of fur and teeth. The tiger's snarl faltered as its attention was forcibly redirected. It crouched low, fur bristling as it tracked the three predators surrounding it. The moment the first wolf launched itself at the tiger's throat, I saw our opening. I grabbed Lydia's hand, anchoring her to me, and we bolted for the doorway, slipping past the chaotic tangle of claws and fur.
We emerged into a long, cavernous hallway that looked more like an outdoor ruin than a corridor. I looked up and actually rolled my eyes; the roof was almost entirely gone, allowing the cold, silver moonlight to pour in and illuminate the rot. If this was the best hiding spot Zander could find, he's even more pathetic than I thought, I mused bitterly.
The interior was a disaster. Crumbling staircases led to nowhere, and thick, prehistoric-looking vines snaked through the masonry, reclaiming the stone for the forest. Moss carpeted the floor, and the air smelled of damp earth and old decay. For a group of shifters who claimed to be the "elite," they certainly had a taste for the bottom of the barrel. He really couldn't have picked a shabbier place to play villain, I thought, pulling Lydia deeper into the shadows of the vine-choked hall.
The hallway was a scene of absolute carnage. At every turn, the moonlight revealed wolves and tigers locked in brutal combat. The wolves were fighting in disciplined packs of three, swarming the arrogant tiger shifters and dragging them down through sheer coordination. The air was thick with the scent of blood and the deafening roar of growls and howls echoing off the roofless walls. I gripped Lydia's hand until my knuckles turned white, shielding her with my body as I navigated the edge of the battlefield. My eyes darted from one clash to the next, my instincts screaming at me to keep moving.
Suddenly, a flicker of movement caught the corner of my eye. A dark, liquid shadow snaked across the floor, moving with impossible speed until it pooled just inches in front of us. A figure began to materialize from the darkness. I didn't wait to see a face. I didn't wait for a greeting. My tiger instincts took over, and I put every ounce of my desperation and strength into a singular, devastating right hook. My fist connected with a sickening crack against the man's jaw.
Caught completely off guard, he didn't even have time to grunt. The sheer force of the blow sent him flying backward, his boots skidding off the mossy stone before he slammed into the far wall. He slid limply to the floor, his head lolling to the side. Lydia let out a sharp, horrified gasp behind me. "Artemis! That's Asher!" My heart nearly stopped. I stared at the unconscious man in the black tactical gear, recognition finally hitting me like a physical blow. I hadn't just punched an enemy—I had just leveled Kayden's younger brother.
The guilt hit me harder than my punch had hit him. I let go of Lydia's hand, and she rushed to her son's side, dropping to her knees on the mossy stone. I followed more slowly, my heart hammering against my ribs as I watched him groan, his hand rising tentatively to his bruised jaw. He was dressed in sleek, black tactical gear, his dark hair still slicked back despite the chaos. The moment Lydia's hand touched his chest, his smoky-gray eyes snapped open. They flickered over me for a split second—wide with lingering shock—before locking onto his mother.
A long, jagged breath escaped him, and the tension in his frame visibly dissolved. "Thank the Moon Goddess you're safe, Mother," he rasped, his voice thick with relief. "We were all... we were so worried." With a grunt of effort, he pushed himself up until his back was braced against the crumbling wall. Lydia didn't wait for him to fully recover; her eyes brimmed with unshed tears before she launched herself into his arms. Asher wrapped his arms around her just as tightly, a small, weary smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"Ari protected me," Lydia's voice came out muffled against his chest, her words trembling with emotion. "If it wasn't for her, Asher... I don't think I would have made it this far." Lydia pulled back just enough to wipe a stray tear from her cheek, and Asher finally turned his full attention to me. The earlier shock in his gaze had been replaced by something deeper—genuine respect. "Thank you," he said firmly, his gray eyes meeting mine with absolute sincerity. "Thank you for keeping our mother safe."
I bit the corner of my lip, the guilt still a heavy, cold weight in my chest. I shook my head slowly. "If it wasn't for me, none of you would be dealing with any of this." Asher raised an eyebrow, but Lydia beat him to the punch. She let out a long, weary sigh. "Artemis, please stop. I have already told you—you are family now. No matter the reason, we would always be here. You aren't the one who attacked us, and you aren't the one who kidnapped me. This is not your fault." Asher's lips curled into a smirk, and he gave a firm nod. "My mother is right. You're one of us now. No matter what happens, we stand by our own."
Watching that warm, slightly cocky smirk and the amused twinkle in his smoky-gray eyes, I was struck by how much he looked like Kayden. The resemblance sent a sharp, physical ache through my chest. God, I missed him. Asher made a move to stand, and I instinctively reached down, hooking my arm under his to help haul him up. Once he was steady on his feet, he winced, gingerly poking at his jaw. "I have to say, though... I wasn't exactly expecting a right hook when I finally tracked you two down."
I cringed, my face heating up. "Sorry about that. Reflexes." Asher shook his head, a short laugh escaping him despite the pain. "Nah, don't be. That was a hell of a punch. I should've known better than to sneak up on a tiger who's been kidnapped just a few hours ago. I was just so relieved to see you both that I stopped thinking." I felt my lips twitch upward, a small spark of genuine amusement finally breaking through the gloom as I nodded in understanding.
Asher continued to rub his jaw, shifting it from side to side with a grimace as if checking to see if I'd actually dislocated something. But I barely noticed. Without warning, a sharp, white-hot spike of agony lanced through my skull. It felt as if someone had driven an ice pick into my temple and was hammering it home with a rhythmic, brutal force. I doubled over, my hands flying to my head as a ragged cry of pain escaped my throat.
The world blurred. Just before my eyes snapped shut, I saw Lydia and Asher's expressions transform into masks of pure shock. I felt their hands catch my shoulders, steadying me as I began to sink toward the mossy floor, but their voices were drowned out by a deafening roar in my ears.
Suddenly, the darkness behind my eyelids was incinerated by a blinding, transcendent light. As the radiance softened, a figure began to coalesce within the glow. Standing before me was a woman of ethereal beauty, unlike anyone I had ever seen. Her hair was a cascading waterfall of snow-white waves that brushed against her shoulders, glowing against her porcelain skin. But it was her eyes that truly haunted me—they were a bright, pastel purple, shimmering with an inner light that made them pulse like gemstones. Her full, rosy lips were parted in a small breath of surprise, her delicate features frozen in an expression that was both regal and soft. She looked less like a shifter and more like a goddess stepped out of a myth.
The perspective suddenly zoomed out, and I saw Asher. His hair was longer than it is now, clinging closely to the nape of his neck. He stared at the white-haired woman with a look of breathless, raw wonder. "Mate," he whispered.
The scene dissolved and reformed in a quiet, sun-drenched library. The woman was there, stretching on her tiptoes for a book just out of reach. Asher appeared behind her like a shadow, his arm effortlessly plucking the volume from the shelf. She spun around, her back hitting the bookcase as her breath hitched. I saw the flash of shock in those pastel-purple eyes, but beneath it was an undeniable, magnetic yearning. Asher closed the distance, his body pressing against hers as he leaned down to whisper something into her ear that made her eyes flutter closed. When he leaned in and captured her lips with his own, the connection felt so real I could almost taste the intensity of it.
Then, the warmth was violently ripped away. The final flash was cold and frantic. I saw her standing in a void of swirling, unidentifiable energy, her white hair whipping around her head like a halo of frost. Her face was a mask of heartbreaking remorse as she looked at Asher. He was sprinting toward her, his face contorted in a silent scream of agony, his fingers clawing at the air to reach her. She offered him one last, tragic smile—a silent apology—before a blinding explosion of light engulfed her. Asher reached the spot a second too late, his hands grasping at nothing but light before he collapsed to his knees in utter, soul-shattering devastation. The darkness of the dungeon hallway rushed back to meet me, hitting me with the force of a physical blow.
The silence of the vision was obliterated. All at once, the world rushed back in, bombarding my senses with a violence that made my skull feel like it was splitting open. The roar of the battlefield—the snarls, the howls, the clashing of bodies—thundered in my ears, and the frantic, muffled voices of Lydia and Asher finally became clear. My legs gave out. My knees hit the mossy stone with a dull thud, my body buckling under a weight that wasn't just physical. It felt like the weight of the future itself. I could feel the heat radiating from Lydia and Asher as they crouched beside me, their hands tightening on my shoulders as their voices grew more panicked. My chest heaved, my lungs burning as I struggled to catch a breath that felt just out of reach.
When I finally managed to peel my eyes open, the world was a blur of gray and gold. I saw Lydia turn to Asher, her face pale with worry. "This must be the head injury," she said, her voice trembling. "I knew she wasn't fully healed. She's been pushing through the pain for my sake." I tried to shake my head, to tell them it wasn't the injury—that I had just seen a woman with hair like snow and a tragedy that hadn't happened yet—but my tongue felt like lead, and my head continued to throb with a rhythmic, punishing heat.
Asher didn't wait for me to argue. He gave a sharp, determined nod before reaching down and scooping me up into his arms, bridal style. I was too weak to protest as he pulled me against the solid tactical gear of his chest. "I need to get you both out of here and back to safety," Asher commanded, his voice dropping into a low, protective growl. Lydia nodded instantly, staying glued to his side. With one last look at the carnage in the hallway, Asher turned and began to carry me through the ruins, heading for the exit and the cold, night air.
As Asher moved with a steady, purposeful stride, the world finally came to a standstill. The agonizing pressure in my skull receded to a dull, rhythmic throb, and my focus sharpened. The sounds of combat were growing distant now, the chaos of the breach giving way to the cold, quiet air of the castle's exterior. But as my mind cleared, one thought eclipsed everything else: Kayden. I looked up at Asher, my voice raspy but demanding. "Where is Kayden?"
Asher glanced down at me, his jaw tight. He ignored the question entirely. "How are you feeling? You went completely pale back there." I narrowed my eyes, my temper flaring despite my exhaustion. "I'm much better. Now tell me where my mate is." He let out a heavy sigh, his grip on me tightening slightly as he navigated a patch of uneven stone. "You don't need to worry about him, Ari. He's fine, and he can more than take care of himself. Currently, your primary concern should be reaching safety. I can see the dried blood on your scalp; I can smell it. You've lost a lot of blood, and you're running on fumes. Focus on yourself."
I could hear the genuine worry in his voice, but being told what to do has always rubbed me the wrong way—especially when it comes to the man I'm bonded to. My tiger bristled under the surface, pacing restlessly. "Put me down this instant," I hissed, my eyes flashing. "And tell me where my mate is." Asher's stride slowed, and he raised an eyebrow at my tone, clearly not used to being ordered around by someone he was trying to rescue. From his side, I felt Lydia's hand gently pet my hair, her touch soothing but firm. "Asher is right, dear," she said, her sweet, motherly voice acting like a cooling balm on my fire. "I know my son. He is a warrior, and he is exactly where he needs to be. You have pushed yourself to the brink for me, but now you must let us take care of you. You need to focus on healing right now."
I didn't take my eyes off Asher's face. My voice dropped to a menacing low. "Put me down now. Before I make you." Asher looked down at me in pure disbelief. He scanned my face, searching for a hint of hesitation or the lingering daze of the head injury, but he found nothing but cold, tiger-hardened steel. He let out a sharp, frustrated sigh and finally relented, letting my feet hit the ground.
"There. Happy?" he snapped, though his eyes still tracked my balance. "Now, can we please get out of here?" I shook my head, my jaw set. "Where is he?" Asher rubbed the back of his neck, his frustration boiling over as he looked between his mother and me, clearly debating whether to drag me away anyway. "Just point me in his direction," I commanded, stepping toward him. "Focus on getting Lydia to safety. It's obvious she isn't a warrior, and she needs to be your priority. I can take care of myself."
The logic hit home. Asher looked at his mother, then back at me, before finally giving a curt nod. He pointed his finger in the exact opposite direction of the exit, toward the heart of the crumbling estate. "He's clearing the north wing. Near the primary courtyard." "Thank you," I said, already pivoting. Before Lydia could protest, Asher moved with a soldier's efficiency, scooping his mother up into his arms. She immediately started shouting, her voice echoing through the ruins as she told him to put her down and take me with them, but Asher ignored her, his long strides carrying her toward the perimeter. I didn't look back. I turned and broke into a run, heading straight into the smoke and the shadows toward the scent of the man I loved.
*
I pushed through a set of heavy, double doors and found myself in what had once been a grand throne room. Now, it was a hollowed-out corpse of royalty. Moth-eaten red tapestries hung in tatters from the walls, and the once-regal carpeting had rotted mostly away from years of rain and neglect. At the far end of the long hall sat a man with long, golden hair. He was draped across a massive stone chair with a nonchalant, bored attitude, looking for all the world like a king lounging on his throne while his kingdom burned around him. When his sky-blue eyes met mine, a smug, oily expression crawled across his face.
"I must say, you found us a lot sooner than I anticipated," he drawled, his voice echoing in the empty space. "Although I must ask... how exactly did you manage it?" I didn't answer. I didn't need to. I watched him, my blood simmering with the certainty that this was the monster Alisha had described. With a slow, deliberate movement, I pulled my cell phone from my pocket and dialed the last number in my call log. A split second later, the sharp, digital trill of a ringtone shattered the silence. The man froze. He pulled a phone from his pocket, glanced at the screen, and then looked back at me. I ended the call, the silence returning like a heavy blanket.
A slow, dark grin spread across his lips. "Oh. I see." He began to chuckle, shaking his head at the ceiling. "I knew I should have killed that little bitch before I captured Artemis. But unfortunately, my schedule was a bit... tight." He shrugged, sitting up and leaning forward, his gaze suddenly sharp and predatory. He began to scan me from head to toe, his eyes lingering with a clinical, disgusting curiosity. "You are Artemis's mate, correct?" I crossed my arms over my chest, my stance wide and unyielding as I stared him down. "I am. And you're the one who orchestrated the kidnapping of my mate, correct?"
He leaned forward, a jagged, mocking smile stretching across his face. Instead of answering my question, he shook his head in feigned pity. "I truly don't understand how someone as weak and pathetic as you could be paired with someone as majestic as her. I can't imagine what the Fates were thinking. If anything, someone like me—someone blessed by the gods—should have been her match. We are two of a kind."
My anger surged, a hot, liquid fire in my veins, but I kept my face like stone. I refused to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. "Are you in love with my mate?" I asked, my voice dropping to a dangerous, icy chill. "Is that what this pathetic display is about?" To my surprise, he barked out a laugh, the sound echoing sharply against the high, ruined ceiling. "In love? You truly have no idea what's going on, do you?"
He settled back, resting his chin in his hand with that same oily, smug grin. "No, I don't love her. But if we had been mated, it would have made our sacred duty much easier to fulfill. Perhaps then she wouldn't have spent all this time running from us." I could feel my pulse thudding in my temples, my breathing growing shallow as the rage continued to build. I forced my voice to remain steady, though it felt like taming a hurricane. "And what is this 'sacred duty' you keep mentioning?"
His smile widened, sharp and predatory, as if I had just stepped right into the center of his trap. "To produce an heir, of course." My blood ran deadly cold, a sudden, piercing frost that turned into a roar of white noise in my ears. My vision began to blur, the edges of the room bleeding into a deep, vengeful red. "We are the strongest tigers in existence," he continued, his voice dripping with arrogance. "It is our duty to create a powerful offspring to carry on our legacy. A weak, inferior creature like you shouldn't even dream of touching someone like Artemis. You should be down on your knees, thanking the gods that they even thought you were worthy enough to look at her, let alone claim her."
I could feel my wolf clawing at the surface, desperate to seize control and rip the throat out of the man before me, but I forced him back. I needed to be the one to do this. As my fury peaked, the room began to shrink. The shadows at the edges of the hall crept forward, thick and ink-like, swallowing the moonlight until the only thing left illuminated was the two of us. The man's sky-blue eyes darted around, noting the unnatural darkness, but his arrogance was a thick shield. "You expect me to be thankful," I said, my voice a low, vibrating thrum of menace, "that you want to fuck my mate?"
He leaned back on his pathetic throne, crossing one long leg over the other with a sickeningly satisfied smirk. "Well, the act itself will likely be the most enjoyable part for her, though I can't say the same for the childbearing. But don't worry, I plan to ensure she enjoys every second of it. She might find she likes it so much she never wants to leave." Something inside my mind snapped. The tether of my restraint didn't just break; it incinerated.
I closed the remaining distance in a blur of motion. Before he could even blink, I had him by the collar. I jerked him upward, hauling him off his throne and into the air. Despite his size, I held him at eye level, his feet dangling uselessly above the floor. My lips curled back, baring my teeth in a primal snarl as I unleashed my Alpha pressure. The air in the room grew heavy, suffocating, vibrating with the weight of my authority. He actually chuckled. Even dangling in my grip, he looked at me with a bored, condescending pity that made my blood boil. "Aww," he mocked, his voice light and airy. "Is the big, bad wolf getting violent? Trying to protect his mate's honor?" He scoffed, the sound sharp in the darkened room. "How pathetic."
"If you leave now—if you never so much as dream of laying a finger on my mate again—I will let you walk out of here with your life," I snarled, my voice vibrating with Alpha authority. "Otherwise, I promise you a death ten times more painful than anything you can imagine." A slow, sinister smile carved itself onto his lips. He tilted his head back, looking down his nose at me even as I held him suspended in the air. "You want to try and kill me, little wolf?" He laughed, a short, barking sound that stopped as abruptly as it began. His voice dropped into a register that felt like ice sliding down my spine. "Big mistake."
Before I could tighten my grip, his body was suddenly engulfed in a violent surge of crackling, white-blue electricity. Arcs of lightning danced across his skin, illuminating the dark room with a jagged, artificial light. The moment his palms slammed into my chest, it felt as if a bolt of pure lightning had been funneled directly into my heart. The force was cataclysmic. My muscles locked, my fingers were forced open, and I was launched backward. I sailed through the air, the world a blurred streak of shadows and sparks, until I slammed onto the stone floor on my back.
The impact drove every scrap of air from my lungs. I lay there for a heartbeat, staring up at the moonlit ceiling, my brain struggling to process the shock. My chest burned, and my vision swam with static. Finally, my lungs spasmed, pulling in a ragged, desperate gulp of air that sent me into a violent coughing fit. I forced myself up onto my elbows, my heart hammering against my ribs with a frantic, electrified rhythm. He hadn't moved an inch. He stood by his throne, watching me with a clinical, detached interest. I looked down at my chest. Wisps of acrid smoke were curling away from the blackened patches on my tactical gear. If I hadn't been wearing the reinforced plating, that strike would have stopped my heart permanently. As it was, I could feel the residual electricity coursing through my veins, making my nerves hum, and my muscles twitch with a restless, jumpy energy.
"Nice trick," I said, pushing myself off the floor and springing to my feet. My muscles were still twitching from the shock, but the adrenaline was finally drowning out the pain. He chuckled, the sound dry and hollow. "Oh, that wasn't a trick, little wolf. But it's cute that you think so." He raised his hand, palm upward. I watched, mesmerized for a heartbeat, as a jagged spark of white light materialized in his palm. It hissed and danced across his skin, a living thing under his absolute control. With a flick of his fingers, he fed the spark until it swelled into a roaring bolt of energy. He reached out, his fingers closing around the lightning as if it were solid matter, wielding it like a glowing, lethal lance.
"You poor, pathetic wolves have always lived in the dark," he sneered. "You refuse to acknowledge any power beyond your precious Moon Goddess. That is why you are weak. That is why none of you will ever be chosen by the true powers of this world. Zeus chose me. He chose me to ensure that your kind could never contaminate our bloodline again." He took a step toward me, the lightning lance illuminating the hunger in his eyes. "The almighty King of the Gods must truly despise you. The very day after I received the call about Artemis, he found me. He offered me his lightning to ensure my desires became reality."
He began to laugh, a manic, high-pitched sound that echoed off the crumbling walls. "The gods are exclusive, but history and lore teach us one thing: when they dislike someone, they make it known in the most extraordinary ways. I will take the greatest pleasure in doing Zeus's bidding." I rolled my eyes, "You do realize how absolutely insane you sound right now, right?"
He raised an eyebrow, his expression shifting from amusement to a cold, clinical indifference. "Believe what you wish, little wolf. It won't change your fate. Just know that after I've ended you, I am going to take great pleasure in dragging your carcass to your mate. I want to be there to watch the exact moment the light dies in her eyes." The air in my lungs turned to ash. The image of Artemis looking at my lifeless body, her hope shattering, sent a surge of pure, unadulterated rage through my soul.
"I am going to kill you," I said, my voice vibrating with a promise that felt older than the stones of this castle. "And then I'm going to mount your head on these walls like a trophy. I'll let you rot until there's nothing left but the memory of your failure." He scoffed, spinning the lightning lance with a practiced, arrogant ease. "Then come and try, little wolf. Let's see how long it takes for you to burn." I didn't wait for another word. I launched myself forward, my boots kicking up the dust of the ruined floor. As I closed the gap, the atmosphere in the room warped. The air became heavy and thick, humming with a strange, unknown energy that made the hair on my arms stand up. It wasn't just the electricity—the very fabric of the room felt like it was tightening around us, charged by my rage and his divine delusions.
*
Following the path Asher had pointed out, I navigated the crumbling hallways until I burst into a vast, ruined chamber. My breath hitched, my lungs suddenly refusing to pull in air as I saw them. Kayden wasn't just fighting; he was a storm personified. The wind in the room was a violent, screaming gale that seemed to orbit my mate, whipping his hair around his face like a dark halo. Zander stood across from him, his body wreathed in crackling arcs of lightning, using the jagged energy to parry Kayden's relentless strikes. They were moving in a blur of shadow and light, a symphony of elemental violence that felt like it was tearing the very room apart.
I watched as Zander launched a lethal, electrified strike, but Kayden didn't flinch. In the blink of an eye, he didn't move—he vanished. He melted into his own shadow, reappearing a split second later behind Zander's left flank. With a roar of effort, Kayden connected a brutal fist to Zander's jaw. The impact was thunderous. Zander was sent sprawling, skidding across the stone floor. He scrambled back to his feet, his face contorted in a mask of pure fury as he thrust his hands forward. A massive, jagged bolt of lightning hissed through the air, heading straight for Kayden's chest.
"Kayden!" The warning died in my throat; I was too slow. But Kayden didn't need a warning. He raised a single hand, and the howling winds surrounding him suddenly crystallized into a shimmering, visible vortex. The lightning slammed into the gale, the energy dissipating against the wall of wind in a spray of sparks. Zander's smugness evaporated, replaced by a look of sheer, bug-eyed shock. It mirrored the expression on my own face. He had thought he was the only one with the power of a god—he had no idea that Kayden was rising to meet him.
"You shouldn't have any other blessings!" Zander screamed, his voice cracking with a mix of fury and disbelief. "How the hell are you doing that? Which god gave you the wind?" Kayden rolled his eyes, his expression flat and unimpressed. He looked like a man who had heard enough fairy tales for one lifetime. "Dude, I've said it before, but you really need to hear yourself. You sound completely insane. I have no idea what you're talking about." Zander snarled, raking his fingers through his hair in a fit of agitation. "Did Artemis tell you nothing? Or are you just too stupid to understand what she said?"
I saw Kayden's eyes narrow, his posture shifting from annoyed to lethal in a heartbeat. "I think you're the one with the listening problem," he said, his voice dropping into a low, terrifying growl. "I told you not to speak about my mate. Her name shouldn't even pass through your filthy mouth." Zander ignored him, pacing like a caged animal. "I'm talking about the others, besides your pathetic Moon Goddess! Which of them blessed you? How did you steal their power?"
"I haven't stolen anything," Kayden replied firmly. "The Moon Goddess blessed me with my abilities so I could lead and protect my pack. I've had them since the day I was born. It's that simple." I could see the veins bulging in Zander's neck. To him, the idea that a "lesser" wolf could naturally possess power that rivaled his "divine" gift was an unbearable blasphemy. His world was crumbling, and his face twisted into a mask of pure, murderous intent.
I saw the shift in Zander's weight—the way the lightning began to coil around his arms like hungry snakes. He was done talking. He was going to put everything he had into one final, desperate strike. "Kayden! Look out!" I screamed, my voice echoing off the vaulted ceiling as I broke from the shadows and sprinted toward him.
The second I heard her voice, the rest of the world vanished. My eyes locked onto hers, and for a heartbeat, time slowed. Her silver hair shimmered under the moon's rays, flowing behind her like a tattered banner as she sprinted toward the center of the room. She was so much paler than she had been this morning. Her face was streaked with grime, a split in her lip only half-healed, and her clothes—the simple t-shirt and jeans she'd been wearing when they took her—were shredded and caked in dirt. Seeing the dark, crusted spots of blood on her skin made my soul scream. A vow ignited in my chest, hotter than any flame: I would end every single person who had dared to touch her.
But that moment of recognition cost me. As my focus snapped back to Zander, I saw his body ignite. He didn't just glow; he became a blinding conduit of white-hot energy. A deafening crack of thunder shattered the air, the sound so violent it made my teeth rattle, and Zander vanished from sight. "Kayden!"
Artemis's scream was the only warning I got. Before I could even register that he was gone, a world of agony exploded in my side. It wasn't just a punch; it was a physical discharge of thousands of volts hitting me at terminal velocity. My breath was ripped away as the electricity bridged the gap between us, locking my muscles and throwing my equilibrium into chaos. I realized too late that he could move just like I did—but while I used the silence of the shadows, he used the raw, instantaneous speed of a lightning strike to close the distance. He hadn't just hit me; he had blindsided me with the very speed of the gods he worshipped.
The impact was devastating. I staggered back, my legs turning to lead, before my body finally gave out. The second my knees hit the floor, a violent cough ripped through me, and I watched as a spray of crimson hit the stone. My internal organs felt like they were vibrating from the residual shock. Through the haze of pain, I saw Zander looming over me. He was already rearing back, his fist coiled with a fresh surge of lightning, preparing to deliver the killing blow. My brain screamed at my muscles to move, to shift, to do anything, but my nervous system was still firing blanks.
Then, a blur of silver eclipsed my vision. Artemis was suddenly there, a shield between me and the storm. With a primal roar, she drove her fist upward in a brutal, perfectly timed uppercut. The force of the strike was incredible; Zander's head snapped back, his teeth clacking together as he was forced two steps away from us. "No one harms my mate," she snarled, her upper lip curling back to reveal her teeth. From my position on the ground, I looked up at her. The moonlight caught the base of her skull, and my heart shattered. Caked into the roots of her silver hair was a thick, coppery layer of dried blood—the evidence of how hard they had tried to break her. Yet here she was, standing tall against a man who claimed to be superior.
Zander recovered quickly, rubbing his jaw and letting out a dry, manic chuckle. "Why am I not surprised? You always were a slippery one, Artemis. Typically, I'd care about how you escaped, but once you're chained in my basement, we'll have plenty of time for you to tell me all your secrets." His eyes flicked to mine, cold and dismissive. "Though I should probably finish the little wolf first. I don't need a nuisance howling at my heels while I'm leaving with my prize." Artemis didn't wait for him to finish. She let out a low, guttural growl and launched herself at him. The room became a whirlwind of motion as the two of them began exchanging blows.
I forced myself to my feet, my muscles screaming in protest. The sting of the blow was nothing compared to the sight below my chin—a jagged section of my tactical gear had been vaporized, the reinforced plating melted directly into my skin. The smell of my own burnt flesh rose in a sickening cloud, and I could see the angry, white blisters already forming around the edges of the wound. I ignored it. My eyes were locked on the blur of movement in the center of the room. As I watched Artemis and Zander trade blows with a level of speed and lethal precision I could barely track, a cold, hard truth settled in my gut. He hadn't just beaten me—he had been toying with me.
My jaw tightened until it ached. Back home, I was the apex. I was the most skilled fighter in the pack, a natural-born leader whose goddess-given shadows made me untouchable. But here? Against these two? It felt like a child trying to step into a ring with a seasoned heavyweight. Their strength was primal, ancient, and far beyond the scope of a typical shifter. I closed my eyes for a fraction of a second, taking a deep, steadying breath. I knew my limits now, but knowing them didn't mean I was going to tuck my tail and run. Artemis was stronger than me, yes—but she shouldn't have to carry the weight of this world alone.
If I couldn't be the hammer, I would be the distraction. Without thinking twice, I lunged back into the fray. I moved like a ghost, weaving through the shadows to create openings. Every time Zander prepared a lightning strike, I sent a blast of wind to tilt his aim or used my shadows to obscure his vision for a split second. When he pivoted to focus on Artemis, I became a stinging shadow at his flank, landing quick, punishing hits before vanishing again. I wasn't the main event, but I was the variable he couldn't account for—and together, we were beginning to turn the tide.
I could see the cracks forming in Zander's composure. His movements were becoming jagged, his breathing heavy with a frustration that bordered on mania. Kayden and I were backing him into a corner, and the way we moved together was nothing short of miraculous. It was as if we had spent a lifetime fighting side-by-side. We didn't need words; we didn't even need signals. Our bodies moved in a telepathic, high-stakes choreography, communicating on a level that transcended the physical. It felt less like a desperate struggle for our lives and more like a complex, lethal dance—one where we were two halves of a single, unstoppable force.
Then, a new sound pierced the chaos. The rhythmic, heavy thrum-thrum-thrum of helicopter blades cut through the noise of the battlefield, growing louder by the second. Zander seized that split-second of distraction. With a guttural roar, he didn't just strike—he detonated. A massive, circular shockwave of pure electrical energy erupted from his body. The force was like a physical wall hitting us, launching both Kayden and me backward. I felt the air rush past me, but before I could hit the stone, I felt the familiar, jolting sparks of the mate bond. Kayden's arms wrapped around me with iron strength, shielding my body with his own. He hit the ground and skidded, digging his back foot into the cracked floor to act as a human anchor, his muscles straining as he brought our momentum to a jarring halt.
I looked up, and through the dust of the crumbling ceiling, I saw it. A black tactical helicopter was hovering directly over the ruined throne room, the downdraft of its rotors whipping the tattered tapestries into a frenzy. I turned my gaze to Zander. He wasn't looking for a fight anymore; he was looking for the exit. A rope ladder unfurled from the bay of the chopper, snapping taut as it dropped toward him. With a final, hateful glance in our direction, Zander reached out and caught the rung.
"As much as I'd love to stick around, I think it's time I took my leave!" Zander shouted, his voice barely audible over the deafening, rhythmic thwack of the rotor blades. I surged to my feet, my muscles screaming as I sprinted toward him to tear him down from that ladder. Kayden was a shadow at my shoulder, his presence a steadying heat beside me, but we were a second too late. The helicopter began to climb, the engine roaring as it hauled Zander's weight off the ruined floor.
By the time I reached the spot where he had stood, he was already hovering several feet above us, swaying on the ladder just out of reach. He looked down at us, that signature, oily smugness back in place now that he was safely behind a wall of steel and altitude. "Normally, I'd take you with me now," he called down, his eyes fixated on me with a possessive hunger. "But it seems that will have to wait for another time." I reached for him, my fingers clawing at the empty air, but the downdraft only pushed me back. "Don't worry, Artemis," Zander sneered, his smile widening. "I'll be back to take you back where you belong. And when I return, I'll ensure that neither your mate nor anyone else can escape my wrath. Though, if I'm feeling gracious—and you come with me willingly—I might just consider letting them live."
As the helicopter banked, beginning to pull away from the castle ruins, he threw one last promise over the side. "I'll be back soon. And I'll have plenty of backup this time." I watched as three more black helicopters rose from the surrounding tree line, flanking his aircraft like a swarm of mechanical vultures. Beside me, I could feel Kayden's body vibrating with a raw, terrifying fury. His hands were clenched so tightly at his sides that his knuckles were white, and the air around him seemed to darken as his Alpha scent turned sharp and lethal. The desire to rip Zander's head from his shoulders was a physical ache in my chest. I wanted to tear him to shreds, to erase every trace of his existence from this earth so that not even a memory of his smug face remained. I stood an inch behind Kayden, both of us rooted to the spot, our eyes locked on the sky until the last of the blinking lights disappeared into the horizon.
The moment the helicopters disappeared from view, the tension that had been holding Artemis together snapped. Her body went limp, collapsing forward as if the very air had been sucked out of her. I moved before she could hit the stone, closing the distance in a heartbeat to catch her around the waist. Her upper body draped over my arm, her silver hair falling in long, tangled curtains around her face. My heart hammered against my ribs as I pulled her flush against my chest, my fingers immediately searching for the pulse at her throat. It was there—thudding but exhausted. She was completely out cold.
I shifted her carefully, tucking her into a bridal carry and shielding her head against my shoulder. As I turned toward the exit, the protective Alpha in me took over. I began barking orders through the mind link, my voice a low, lethal vibration in the minds of my men: Secure the perimeter. Bring the medical transport to the north entrance. Now. I looked down at her pale, dirt-streaked face, and a cold, dark resolve settled into my marrow. I promised myself right then that I would ensure nothing like this ever happened again. To keep her safe, I would do everything in my power to make sure that no man would ever dare lay a hand on her—or even think about it—by the time I was finished with Zander. Touching her was a mistake he wouldn't live to repeat.