The crowd around Kira fell silent. Every hushed whisper, every mocking word, had disappeared. All eyes were on her, weighing her down with expectation. They were all shifters, and shifters could scent weakness from miles away.
Kira took a breath. She would probably cry later—once she was safely hidden behind closed doors. But right now, she took in her appearance: her simple blue dress, her flats, the way her hair fell unassumingly to her shoulders. Then she looked at Logan, sprawled on a chair in the middle of the room like a king on his throne.
His presence effortlessly dominated the hushed crowd circling them. He was quiet, his full lips sealed, and so everyone was quiet in turn. She couldn’t cry now, not when he was still looking at her like that, not when they were in public. Why?
she asked instead, barely a whisper. What a silly question for her to ask someone like Logan. Logan, who was everything one desired in a leader and a man, while Kira was, well, nothing, really. A shifter without a wolf was nothing.
You dare question my judgment? he said, his tone controlled, betraying close to no emotion. Not even the tiniest hint of the warm empathy Kira was used to from him. He wasn’t just her Alpha, but someone who belonged to a different world altogether—one where Kira could never hope to belong.
She wouldn’t dare question that, of course. Not Alpha, she replied evenly. She should have been inclining her head in submission, but she didn’t have the strength for it. He was too mesmerizing to look away fromthe soft glow from the overhead lights highlightedthe sharp contours of his face.
His jaw was set firm, a shadow of stubble accentuating its strong line, though it was mostly the dark amber of his eyes that held Kira’s gaze captive. Good, Logan said, sending a shiver coursing through her, as if somehow she’d just been praised instead of rejected by her mate. He seemed somewhat pleased, though, and that did feel good, despite the reasons for it. Go on then, Kira’s Alpha pressed, his posture tensing slightly, as if he expected her to refuse, as if she’d refuse him anything.
Didn’t he know by now how far she’d be willing to go to please him? Kira opened her mouth, but the words got stuck on her lips. Kira, Logan snapped, his broad shoulders tensing beneath an elegant dark shirt that did nothing to hide his powerful build. Tension blanketedthe room at Logan’s evident displeasure, his angered scent casting a shadow that seemed to reach every corner of the hall.
The pack responded, members recoiling here and there, heads bowingand shoulders slumping—all the usual testaments of instinctual submission yielding to the invisible weight of command. There were a few growls directed at Kira for causing their Alpha’s anger. She kept her head high, though, fearing, perhaps irrationally, that after this she might never see Logan again. His dark hair, his tanned skin, the curve of his smile, I accept your rejection, she managed to say in a calm voice that surprised even herself.
She expected a telling relief to imbue Logan’s scent after all this—she’d accepted his rejection, their bond all but destroyed before it could even take root, as he’d wanted. But to her surprise, it didn’t come. Instead, his lips twisted into a snarl, and there was flicker of something behind his piercing eyes that left Kira stunnedand confused, akin to betrayal. Why?
She’d done everything he asked. Get out of my sight, Logan said, looking away. Kira wasn’t sure if he meant for now or forever. She didn’t dare ask.
Maybe if she stayed out of his way enough, he’d allow her to remain—not close, certainly never too close, but not far enough that she was deprived of him entirely. She slowly turned and exitedthe reception hall, underthe stares of their entire pack. Behind her, whispered murmurs began to erupt, sneersand mockery. She didn’t pay them any mind.
Logan watched Kira’s small figure retreat behind the crowd, her soft floral scent fading away with her. Her gait was unhurried, her posture impeccable, showing no sign of embarrassment, sadness, or resentment. One would think nothing particular had happened at all. But then again, that’s how the kid always was.
There was an aloofand far-away air about her—nothing cold orhuey, but an absent quality that constantly set her apart. Some healers had called it dissociation. Logan remembered when she was eight. Kira’s parents had been killed in front of her, and she’d been taken hostage.
To this day, he still felt responsible. He’d been 20 and had just become Alpha due to his father’s early passing, feeling quite frankly ill-equipped for the job—a vulnerability other wolves could sense from miles away. No rogue would have dared touch a member of the pack if his father had still been Alpha. But Logan was young, and these wolves had seen an opportunity to pressure him.
At least Logan was an excellent tracker. He’d managed to find Kira, and letting his pack deal with the rogues, he’d felt the need to shift back to his human form, to untie her and take her away during the fight. She didn’t have a wolf, and therefore couldn’t be communicated with telepathically, but she had been such a young child that it felt right to offer her comfort. He’d expected a crying, terrified child.
But instead, he found her waiting, calm and ready. She didn’t ask questions. She didn’t complain. And when they got her back home, she never cried, not once.
Rumors started spreading that she was broken, if not possessed. People didn’t understand Kira, and no one liked what they couldn’t understand. Alpha Clark said—he was Logan’s beta and oldest friend, someone who had trained side by side with Logan growing up—should I arrange potential suitors for h? he asked, making Logan frown slightly.
Suitors? Logan asked. Well, she’s 18 now,and you’ve just rejected her, as you should have, Clark added hurriedly. We can’t have our Alpha mating with a wolfless girl.
Obviously, obviously, Logan replied, his tone blank, but she is of age now,and, as you know, orphaned, with a sister in her care. I’m well aware of her situation, Logan snapped. Right, so perhaps it would be wise to arrange to find Kira a proper mate. Logan shot to his feet.
She’s but a child, he insisted. She has time. Clark grimaced, appearing about to protest. I won’t hear any more of this, Logan growled, waving him away.
Finding Kira a suitable mate? What a ridiculous idea. She was too young for that. Besides, she needed time to process, to grieve, whatever bond might have existed between them.
Surely she couldn’t be as indifferent as she appeared upon receiving his rejection earlier. As she’d turned 18, a strange, almost invisible link had begun pulling them together. She’d looked— Logan briefly closed his eyes. It doesn’t matter how she looked.
It was over now. He would not have her, and that was all there was to it. Three. Kira lay awake in her bed long after she had shut off the lights.
Beside her, Willow slept soundly. Kira knew better than to make a sound. She didn’t want to wake her 10-year-old sister. Unlike Kira, Willow had a wolf,and tasks to fill her days, other than aimlessly wanderingand cleaning floors.
Willow aspired to be a warrior, following in their father’s footsteps. Kira understood that dreams didn’t come true through sleepless nights, so she resolved to stay quiet. She allowed a single tear to escape her eye. Just one.
Taking measured breaths. It’s no use crying over this, she told herself. Not only would it not fix anything, but others might hear me. I could worry Willow or embarrass the Thorns, who had graciously hosted us for the past two years.
It must have been embarrassing enough for their Alpha to find out she was his fated mate. She wouldn’t make things worse for him by reacting to his perfectly natural rejection with petty tears. Of course he wouldn’t have her. He had their pack to think about,and the pack needed a proper queen.
The bare minimum for a queen would be at least to be able to shift. And besides, even if Logan had decided to forget all of that,and listen to his heart, it’s not like his heart would lead him anywhere near Kira. He could have anybody he wanted. In fact, he did have whoever he wanted, every other night,and everyone knew that.
He’d never shown a hint of interest in Kira, who was neither very beautiful nor interesting, who couldn’t shift,and who, up until a few hours ago, had been a minor—so ultimately, not someone Logan had previously seen as a prospect. Though, earlier at the party, Kira had turned 18—an event she’d seen as inconsequential,and which she’d have forgotten about altogether, busy as she was sending brief, discreet glances at Logan as she grew adept at that. But then, out of nowhere, his gaze had caught hers. Properly caught.
For suddenly it had been impossible for her to look away,and then all she could do was keep in place, breath frozen in her lungs, as he made his way to her from across the room. Kira had been sure he’d walk past her,and was already rejoicing at the idea of indulging in his scent as they’d cross paths, so she had been perfectly stunned when, instead, Logan had stopped in front of her. He said something which Kira had no doubt was riveting, but unfortunately blood had been pulsing too hard in her ears to make anything out, and she was slightly dizzy. Logan was standing so close.
It had been years since she’d been allowed to smell him from up close like this. It was making her head spin. He’d taken her hand,and then he’d led her to dance,and Kira would have worried about him wasting his precious time on her, except his fingers were on her hips, the material of her dress too thin for her not to feel the heat of them. She’d loved Logan for what seemed like her entire life, but which had stemmed from that day he’d found her in the woods,and taken her home, whispering reassuring words to her.
He’d stayed with her when their Alpha told her about her parents,and when they’d taken her into her first foster home, he’d stayed with her as she settled a few belongings in her room,and as she watched helplessly as someone who wasn’t her mother soothed Willow to sleep. He’d gone after Kira had fallen asleep,and the next day he’d returned,and the one after that, up until it felt it was all she did—wait for Logan. She’d felt a drift without him,and years later, long after he’d stopped pampering the child she’d been,and had been taken away by piles upon piles of obligations, she still felt a drift without him. But then at that moment, as he’d held her,the strange impression that she was right where she needed to be, where she belonged, bloomed within Kira, so much so that from one minute to the next, it wasn’t just an impression but a certainty.
She belonged right here, at Logan’s side. And then he’d stepped away abruptly, his face pale,and his pupils eerily dilated,and declared Kira his mate,which left her confused. His mate? Where he’d meant her?
She realized quickly enough—she’d heard the stories. Logan’s very own parents had been a fated pair. This sense of belonging she’d just felt was The fated bond that had begun manifesting as soon as Kira had turned 18. Hope bloomed in her chest—an entirely foreign feeling she had all but forgotten she could experience.
But then, of course, Logan had regained his senses,and, not even a couple of minutes later, he’d publicly rejected their bond,and any sense of belonging she might have felt. What else was she to do but accept it? Logan had looked so distressed. She’d never seen him look like this—his eyes wide,and his body moving with a wild energy.
Perhaps he’d caught an appalled gaze or two—there had been plenty of those thrown around—and realized what it would mean, being tied down to a pariah. Kira owed Logan her life. No one had ever made her feel as happy as he had over the years, watching over her with gradually more distance, but still watching over her nevertheless. He was her Alpha,and her loyalty to him was absolute.
If he didn’t want her, then so be it. Kira asked for nothing but to please him,and she was certain her tears wouldn’t make him happy, so she’d hold them in. She fell asleep before the sun began to rise, with this determined thought in mind. And then the very next day, Logan disappeared.
Four. It’s Willow who shakes Kira awake. For once, a moment Kira would have relished longer, if her little sister hadn’t looked so unusually serious. Clark is downstairs, Willow says.
He wants to see you. Logan’s beta? Kira asks, confused. You know—another Clark.
Kira quickly ties her hair back in a bun, throws on pantsand a shirt to appear more presentable for the beta,and heads downstairs. Clark is indeed in the living room, seated beside the bewildered Thorn parents,and their daughter, Elma. Kira, he greets, somewhat politely, which is unusual. His gaze is cautious, guarded.
Did something happen? Kira asks, a sinking feeling in her gut. You tell me, Clark replies. Kira looks around the tense room, puzzled.
Kira! The entire day in her room yesterday—Willow cuts in—she wouldn’t know whatever it is that’s going on. Clark gives Willow a considering look, his gaze softening somewhat, though still far from warm. The alpha is missing, he announces, eliciting a couple of gasps.
Kira lets that news sink in slowly. It can’t hit too fast, or she might not recover. Their Alpha missing? Logan?
What did that mean? Was he in danger? Hurt? Had a search party been sent?
How could Kira help? When would he come back? What was she supposed to do without h— Since when? she asks, meeting Clark’s eyes.
Panicking wouldn’t help anyone, certainly not Logan. Every panicked thought or painful heartbeat had to remain carefully contained. Clark’s gaze on Kira hardens, his mouth pressing into a tight line. Had she been too transparent?
Straightening her shoulders, Kira asserts herself as as a member of this pack. It’s her duty to serve her Alpha, despite her worriesand lack of a wolf. She needs Clark to understand she won’t fall apart, that she can contribute. Since when?
she repeats. Clark’s grimace deepening, though he does reply. According to Tessa— Who’s Tessa? Willow interrupts.
The woman he’d been with before going missing. She’s from a neighboring pack. Willow rolls her eyes, muttering something about his hundredth lover or something under her breath. They’d fallen asleep together, but this morning, when she woke up, Logan was nowhere to be found, Clark continues.
He hasn’t returned,and hasn’t been seen by anybody for the last 10 hours. A heavy silence settles over the room as everyone processes what that implies. Willow breaks the silence, almost cheerfully. Maybe he’s dead.
Willow! Kira admonishes,and her sister snaps her mouth shut. People are wondering, Clark begins, hesitating briefly—if you’ve heard from him at all. It takes a moment for Kira to realize he’s addressing her.
No, I—why would I? she asks, unable to help herself. You are his mate, Clark says. The words hit like a slap to her face.
Kira does her best not to flinch. She isn’t Logan’s mate. He’d made that very clear. He rejected their bond, as he should have.
Kira doesn’t consider herself his. She has no business being tied to him in any way. I’m not—not, she tells Clark firmly, or have you forgotten? The beta looks almost offended, as if he wants to argue, but in the end, he turns his gaze away,and stands up.
We’ll be sending a search party, Clark announces to the room. Every available tracker should meet us at the rendezvous point in an hour. If Logan hasn’t shown up by then— Elma, being a tracker, nods her agreement. I could help, Kira offers, but her words are ignored.
Clark doesn’t even bother acknowledging her as he leaves the house. Five. The damp earth beneath his body was not what Logan remembered falling asleep on. Instead of the warm, silken sheets of Tessa’s bed, with the faint scent of her perfume lingering as he drifted into sleep, there was the cool mist of the early morning forest, its musky scent contrasted sharply with the indulgence of the previous night.
He opened his eyes, trying to orient himself. He quickly recognizedthe gnarled treesand shadowed paths of the woods near his territory, though confusion twisted in his gut. Why am I here? he wondered, taking note of the sharp rustling of leavesand the distinct scent of a nearing stag, indicating what lay hidden beyond the bushes.
I’ve shifted, Logan thought. But when? Why? He hadn’t transformed in his sleep in years.
His control over the beast within was well perfected. This was strange, though. Perhaps he had somewhat overindulged yesterday. After all, Tessa’s company had been pleasant enough, but there had been a sense of something missing—that Logan was quite unused to,and frankly didn’t like very much.
It left him distractedand unable to fully immerse himself in the present with her. It felt like he needed to be somewhere else,and suddenly all he could do was pour himself more drinks. But really, what else was he to do, with Clarkand other members of his close council badgering him about finding Kira a mate, of all things, as if she were some burden to be thrown onto the first—well, never mind. He’d deal with Kira later, somehow.
Right now, he needed to get home. Relying on instinct, he steered towards the pack. His paws padded silently over the leaf-strewn ground. The neighboring woods had been well-scented by his trackers.
It was easy to follow the trail home. His nose twitchingand picking up various scents. Kira was too young to be mated. That was the thing.
It was frustrating how Clarkand the others seemed intent on ignoring that fact. Besides, she didn’t have a wolf, so finding her a suitable mate wouldn’t be easy. No, what she needed wasn’t a mate, but the pack’s protection. She belonged to Logan.
Logan growled involuntarily, shaking the pestering thoughts away. They all led to the same image—of Kira’s widening eyes, the hopeful, elated expression on her face as she took in the force of the growing bond establishing itself between them, meddling with her thoughtsand feelings. He thought of his mother’s empty gaze, of the bitterness in her scent, of his parents’ voices booming behind closed doors. And then he thought of nothing at all.
Sometimes it’s better not to think. The familiar scent of the pack grew stronger. Logan was close now. As he had done so many times before, he tried to summon his human self, willingthe shift to begin.
It didn’t. Logan was briefly startled. This hadn’t happened to him since he was a child, but he didn’t let it deter him. Keeping his focus assuredly and patiently, he tried to restrain the wolf, to tame it back down for the time being.
He tried,and tried,and waited. Nothing. His body refused to obey. His wolf refused to retreat.
As time passed, instead of his fur receding,and his limbs turning back to two—the more Logan tried,the further his human self seemed to slip away. Controlled,and civilized thoughts drifted. Instincts took over. And the wolf claimed moreand more space in the confines of his mind.
Soon there was almost nothing left of the human. Only the beast remained. And the beast wasn’t content to stay still. Others were approaching.
Other wolves. Were they threats? The allied sense of packmates dominated his surroundings, keeping the wolf somewhat calm for the time being. But there was something else—a human scent, floraland tempting, that Drew the wolf’s focus.
Single-mindedly. Find its mate. Now. Six.
Kira ignored the order. Yes, Clark said only trackers, but she could help,and she was going to. First, she drove to Tessa’s place, to hear firsthand what happened prior to Logan’s disappearance. Tessa, a gorgeous brunette emanating a strong, domineering aura that made many shifters bow down, initially tried to brush her off, feeling she owed a wolfless girl nothing.
But Kira remained unbothered, standing her ground, until Tessa somewhat reluctantly confessed. Both of us had a lot to drink. I was half awake when I felt him stir during the night. He was mumbling in his sleep, but it didn’t sound like a typical sleeping-person’s gibberish.
It was like— Like what? Kira pressed. Like he was talking to someone, or replying to someone. I started to feel weird about it, but it stopped,and I fell back asleep.
When I woke up, he was gone. This didn’t provide much clarity for Kira, but she knew every detail counted,and kept this one close to mind. For the first time in a long time, she wished with all her heart she had a wolf. With one, she might have found a trace of Logan’s scent, following it to him like he had found her all those years ago.
He had found her. The least she could do was help find him, in any way she could, even though she couldn’t do much. After leaving Tessa, she drove back near the pack’s territory,and entered the woods, taking a path she knew the trackers wouldn’t start with. Might as well cover more ground, venturing deep into the forest.
Her eyes scanned the groundand brush for any sign of disturbance, while moving shadowsand rustling leaves heightened her senses. Her human limitations were a poor substitute for the enhanced abilities of her packmates. She silently cursed. No sharp sense of smell to detect a trail.
No keen night vision to pierce through shadows. Only human intuition,and a deep-seated, probably foolish, resolve. Though her frustration mounted with each fruitless step, Kira pushed it aside, forcing herself to focus. She looked for broken twigs, displaced rocks, anything out of the ordinary.
Her breath forming small clouds in the chilly air. Then, as she found herself deeper in the forest than she had ever been, a sudden prickling sense of unease crept up her spine. The forest was too quiet. Even the silence stretched like a heavy cloak around her.
She paused, listening, but there was nothing to hear. The birds had fallen silent,and the crawlers were still. Kira’s eyes darted from one patch of woods to another, surveying her surroundings efficiently. The nearest climbable tree was to her right, but its branches were too low.
She needed one only a human could hope to climb. There, to her left, a little further down—a good bet. Though if something loomed—for something was looming, Kira knew it—came from there, then the first option she had spotted would be all that was left. Kira held her breath.
Nothing moved. A palpable tension hung in the air. Just as she was about to pounce towards her chosen hiding spot, it appeared. A wolf, striking against the dark greens&browns of the forest, its fur so radiantand pure white that it captured the faint sunlight filtering through the canopy, giving it an ethereal glow.
Kira released her breath. The wolf stilled, its muscles rippling beneath its snowy fur. It was striking—bigger than any shifter Kira had ever seen. Its eyes held an intelligenceand intensity that a normal wolf wouldn’t possess.
The wolf’s stance wasn’t aggressive, but Kira had never seen it before, so she remained on guard. Again, she cursed herself for not having a wolf of her own. If she had one, she could perhaps communicate with this beast. It wasn’t part of their pack, so communication wouldn’t be as seamless as with packmates, but there could have been a semblance of understanding.
But now, Kira was left staring at the white wolf, heart racing. It felt like he wanted to tell her something, but she had no way of knowing what. The wolf moved, slowand deliberate, calculating. Kira tensed, her eyes darting towards the—the tree.
The wolf stilled again, sitting down. It looked at Kira softly, inclining its head. All right, so it didn’t seem aggressive. In the distance, a howl sounded,and the wolf’s ears twitched.
It began to growl—a low, menacing sound that deepened with each passing second. It wasn’t looking at Kira anymore, but when three other shifters emerged from the undergrowth—trackers from the pack—that Kira recognized instantly. The white wolf jumped in in front of her, its posture ready for attack. Kira’s packmates growled right back at him, hackles raised, eyes blazing with fury at the sight of the trespasser.
The forest seemed to shrink around them. They were going to fight. Their intentions were obvious. Don’t!
Kira cried out, raising her hands. It’s fine. He didn’t hurt me. It was a foolish thing to say.
The white wolf may not have heard, but that didn’t change the fact that it was an unknown wolf trespassing on pack land. It couldn’t have missed the clear scent marks delimiting—the area he was trespassing,and asserting his presence at that. Perhaps you should go, Kira told the white wolf over her shoulder. It ignored her, positioning itself between her and the pack once more.
Its massive body a shield against the emerging threat. It seemed almost eager for a fight. Its fur bristled,and a low, menacing growl rumbled from its throat—a clear warning. The wolf knew it was outnumbered,and it couldn’t have missed the fact that it was trespassing on another pack’s turf.
Why wasn’t it leaving? Why defend Kira at all? The scene unfolded like a nightmare—too fast, too fierce. The others snarled back, hackles rising, though they were taken aback by the white wolf’s aggressionand size for a moment.
Their instincts would have them submit to the raw dominance exuded by the lone figure. It stood tall, tail stiff, ears pinned back, its stance unyielding. But then, the white wolf charged—a blur of white furand bared teeth. It tackled Kira’s first packmate to the ground in one efficient motion, not bothering to jump away when the other two came at it, instead biting into flesh and fur.
Stop that! Kira cried out,and the white wolf briefly froze—not long enough for one of her packmates to retaliate,and bite it back, making it growl. The air crackled with tension as the white wolf repositioned itself in front of Kira. But then more wolves from Kira’s pack appeared, their numbers rapidly swelling.
They circled around—a coordinated wall of furand fangs, their growls a terrifying chorus. The scales tipped with a unified howl. The pack attacked. Teeth flashed, claws slashed,and growls filled the air, echoing through the trees like war drums.
The white wolf was outnumbered, but fought with wild, heartbreaking intensity, parrying each attack until fatigue wore it down,and a particularly vicious snap caught it off guard. It yelped—a sound that pierced Kira’s soul. Blood stained its beautiful white fur, painting the ground in stark, vivid strokes. The fight drained out of it.
Its body weakening, its movements slowing. And then, with a final crushing blow, it collapsed. Seven. The white wolf hasn’t shifted back.
Usually, when a shifter is hurt, he quickly shifts back after losing consciousness. Perhaps not immediately, but quickly enough. It’s a sort of survival process—for it is easier for humans to heal other humans,and humans are better at healing than wolves. But the white wolf hasn’t shifted.
It lies still, unconscious, with a chain wrapped around its neck. The other half of it tied to a large tree near the end of the pack house’s grounds. Kira can see it from the house, unmoving, while she is being interrogated by Clark. You say he just appeared out of nowhere?
The beta asks, for what feels like the hundredth time. Kira’s eyes — they should be trying to heal the white wolf. It’ll have bled to death by the time this interrogation is over. At this stage, why do you think it is still in his wolf form?
she replies, eyes glued on the fallen shape of the wolf. I asked you a question, Clark barks. And I already answered it, Kira snaps back, gaze settling on him. Clark looks taken aback for a moment, though he is quick to school his features.
Why do you keep staring at it like that? he says. Do you know who he is? Kira shakes her head, somewhat offended by the beta’s suspicious stare.
Then why did he pick a fight for you? he insists. I don’t know, Kira shrugs, helplessly. Kira, if you know something, now would be a good time to share it, Clark says, clearly not believing her.
Our Alpha is missing, or have you forgotten? As if Kira needs reminding. You think this wolf has something to do with Logan’s disappearance? she asks with a frown.
First, it is revealed your Logan’s fated mate. Then he disappears, just as a rogue wolf asserts himself on our territory, like you’re somehow his to protect. Do you think this is a coincidence? Kira shakes her head in disbelief.
You’re saying this wolf got rid of Logan because it saw him as a rival? Why would it? Logan rejected me. If the rogue did want me for a mate, as you seemed to imply, it wouldn’t need to do anything to Logan.
Clark opens his mouth, but Kira interrupts. And besides, I told you I don’t know this wolf. I’d never seen it before in my life. So then why do you keep looking at it like you’re worried about him?
Clark challenges. Kira’s gaze falls onto the wolf once more. I don’t know, she says. He’s so alone.
And he is—the beast is bleeding out,and no one seems intent on moving a finger to help him out. The white wolf is an outsider,and no one likes an outsider. No one knows this more than Kira. Kira, Clark says with a tired sigh.
Logan disappears, just as a rogue wolf’s been found roaming our territory. Alphas instinctually know when an outsider trespasses their pack. Logan must have felt this one’s presence,and gone to confront him. Kira shakes her head.
No, she says, throat tight. Be realistic, Clark bites. Logan is gone. Instead, this rogue’s here, on his territory, trying to claim his mate.
It’s doesn’t take a genius to figure out what happened. Kira— The girl shakes her head as Clark concludes. This wolf killed our Alpha, which, according to our laws, would make it our new Alpha. If only there had been a witness.
There hasn’t been, not that we know of. But someone from this wolf’s pack could manifest itself as one at any given moment,and who knows which pack this wolf comes from—a feral bunch. Surely he’s having trouble shifting back. We can’t have an alpha from out of nowhere who’s practically feral.
Logan isn’t dead, Kira tells herself. He isn’t. He can’t be. The pack will come to a vote, but I already guarantee you the outcome.
This wolf is going to die for the crime of executing our Alpha. Eight. Willow could read very well by herself,and has done so for a long time now. But there was nothing quite like listening to Kira’s voice while she drifted to sleep, telling her stories she simply knew would end well.
And then. Beauty dreamed she was walking by a brook bordered with with trees,and lamenting her sad fate, when a young prince, more handsome than anyone she had ever seen,and with a voice that went straight to her heart, came and said to her—”A beauty, you are not so unfortunate as you suppose. Here you will be rewarded for all you have suffered elsewhere. Your every wish shall be gratified.
Only try to find me out, no matter how I may be disguised, for I love you dearly,and in making me happy, you will find your own happiness. ” What can I do, Prince, to make you happy? ” said Beauty. “Only be grateful,” he answered.
“And do not trust too much to your eyes; above all, do not desert me until you have saved me from my cruel misery. ” That prince asks for quite a lot from someone he only just met, Willow observes. Testing her love like this. It’s not the first time she said so, but she likes what Kira always replies.
It’s not a test of her love, but of her strength of character. Can she look past appearances to find what truly matters? And what do you think it is that matters? Willow says.
That her prince is filthy rich? This makes Kira laugh. Nine. The wolf is confused, wondering where his mate has gone.
This puzzlement, somewhat blurry as the darkness recedes, as the wolf comes awake, becomes more pressing when it is apparent she’s nowhere to be seen. The scents surrounding the wolf are familiar, though soothing, but underneath—the welcoming notes of the pack—a pack the wolf recognizes as his own—there is a sense of wrongness. Something is out of place. But what?
Where has his mate gone? Why did his packmates attack? Why is there a chain around the wolf’s neck? It is dark out—pitch black—but the wolf’s night vision is impeccable,and so it sees the figure approach—another packmate, someone the wolf knows, not a threat.
They’re talking of killing you, the figure says, pulling at the chains around the wolf’s neck. You don’t look like yourself, or smell like yourself. Are you even yourself right now? Why aren’t you talking?
This little person is speaking in human language, but the wolf understands, somewhat. Something is wrong. There is danger,and confusion. You’re going to have to go, for now, the figure says as the chain gets loose—before they hurt you.
The wolf hesitates. He is home, isn’t he? Go—Logan—come on! Logan.
That is his human name. His name. Yes. This is his pack.
His name is Logan. He should shift back. He cannot. Go!
There’s a glimpse of consciousness. Logan remembers what a pack does to a rogue—especially one who’s attacked,and is now perceived as a threat. They’ll kill him. He’s outnumbered,and there’s a wound on his back that needs to heal.
But what about his mate? Kira. Her name is Kira. He remembers now.
She is—is his— No. She’s not. He didn’t want that. He didn’t— Go!
The figure snaps. The urgency lacing the words ignites something primal within Logan. He disappears into the woods—a temporary retreat. Ten.
Kira must have fallen asleep. There’s no reason for her to be back at the pack house, in that pale blue dress, dancing in Logan’s arms. He’s right there, holding her. The clothes—his woodsy scent filled Kira’s nostrils.
She wishes she had a wolf—if only to be able to enjoy his scent even more. Logan shifts away slightly to cup Kira’s face. They’re whispering. Kira says, referring to their pack, present all around them.
Logan doesn’t reply immediately, instead placing a soft kiss at the corner of her lips. You’re my mate, he whispers, eventually. He sounds happy. Odd.
Even this is a dream—he didn’t sound happy before. He’d seemed startled,and then horrified. I’m not, Kira protests. Not anymore.
Logan tenses against her, his features twisting into a betrayed, hurt look. Why would you even say that? he demands. Kira wants to cry.
How dare he ask her that—he knows why. You’re gone, she says. You’ve been gone for weeks. Logan’s hold tightens around her.
I’m right here, he protests. You rejected me, Kira says. The words hurt more than she thought they would. She’d felt resigned that day.
Now she only feels anguish,and loss. You accepted, Logan says, meeting her eyes. Kira’s eyes snap open. Tears run down her cheeks.
Eleven. The white wolf was gone. Logan was gone,and Kira didn’t know what to do with herself. It had been two weeks now,and still there was no news.
The search continued, with trackers roaming the woods every day, but it seemed as if Logan had disappeared into thin air. A pack without its Alpha was not much of a pack. Wolves lived through hierarchy,and didn’t take well to the absence of clear leadership. Clark did his best, but if Logan didn’t reappear, a new Alpha would have to be chosen.
As Logan was an only child who had yet to produce an heir, the position was up for grabs,and whoever was the strongest would surely try to claim it. If the white wolf didn’t return first—if indeed it had killed Logan—it could lay claim to the pack. And even if it didn’t, someone else might make a bid for power. No one had dared yet, but it was only a matter of time.
Kira should have cared more. Whoever ended up on top might not be as lenient as Logan,and a wolfless girl like her might face banishment. Kira was resigned to that fate, but she worried about Willow. Willow would want to come with her, but Willow had a wolf,and needed a pack.
It was in her nature to need one. But Willow was loyal to a fault,and would want to choose Kira over what was best for herself. She was still young,and needed guidance,and stability. If Kira left, who would Willow curl up with at night?
Who would read her fairy tales? Who would tell her about their parents? Kira had to think of a plan—a way to ensure the future Alpha would let her stay. She needed to figure out how to become useful to the pack.
But she couldn’t stop thinking about Logan. She would not give up on him. Late into the night, Willow slept soundly beside her while Kira continued to read aloud. She didn’t need to—her sister couldn’t hear her—but Kira didn’t want to stop.
In truth, fairy tales comforted her more than they did Willow. Growing up, Kira had always been a fairy-tale type of girl. Her parents found it cute—until she turned eight,and her wolf hadn’t yet appeared. Then they worried that these happily-ever-after tales weren’t practical enough for a future shifter.
All the other kids in the pack had received their wolves,and begun their training. Kira wanted to make her parents proud, so she hid away her fairy-tale collection,and tried to focus on more practical matters. That changed when her parents died. It was an unexpected attack by rogues while Kira and her parents were traveling to visit friends from another pack.
Kira still didn’t know why they attacked. Was it for money? Anger? Desperation?
Maybe they wanted to put pressure on Kira’s Alpha. There were three of them—two men and a woman—who had been in their wolf forms. They took Kira,and left her parents behind. She was with them for six days.
On the seventh day, help finally came. He came. Logan was her savior. Before then, Kira hadn’t paid much attention to Logan.
He was 12 years older, the heir to the pack,and a promising shifter who wouldn’t waste time with a young girl without a wolf. They didn’t have much in common. But when she was taken, Logan had ledthe search party. One minute, Kira was tied to a tree, too terrified to cry.
The next, wolves attacked her captors. But all Kira noticed was Logan, kneeling beside her in human form. He personally cut her binds,and carried her to safety in his arms, just like princesses did in her favorite illustrated books. For weeks, months, even years after, when nightmares of her parents’ death,and bloodshot eyes haunted her, she would calm herself by imagining Logan whispering soothing words in her ear,and carrying her home.
Rogues had killed her parents brutally, right in front of her,and for no reason. Desperation was no excuse. Logan had saved her, only for another rogue to take his life. This time, Kira wouldn’t stand by,and do nothing.
The white wolf had taken Logan from her, but Kira swore he wouldn’t harm anyone else—not on her watch. Twelve. All shifters are taught how to hunt. It’s a good way to blow off steam,and harness their abilities, with low risk—meaning, without fighting one another.
The hunting can take place in wolf form, most likely, but also in human form, as shifters retain abilities even then. Kira didn’t have a wolf, so she had to learn how to hunt the human way. From a very young age, Kira had to adapt to a different set of skills compared to her peers, who could rely on their wolf forms’ enhanced sensesand physical prowess. With a quiet determination,and perhaps a point to prove, Kira immersed herself in learning the art of the hunt,from a human perspective.
Her training was rigorous, involving long hours of practicing stealth, learning to readthe subtle signs of nature,and mastering the use of various hunting tools, like bows,and traps. Her instructors—skilled hunters of the pack—taught her how to move silently through different terrains, how to camouflage herself,and how to predictthe pathways of her prey through broken twigs, disturbed leaves, or even the slight shift in the direction of the wind. Kira also learned to use her human senses to their fullest, sharpening her hearingand sight to pick up cues that her fellow shifters might detect more naturally in their wolf forms. Lacking the natural weapons of a shifter in wolf form, she became adept at improvising with what was available in her environment,and using her intelligence to strategize her hunts.
Too bad nobody cared to notice. Kira’s skillsand abilities have gone perfectly unnoticed—ever since her instructor died. Nevertheless, these skills did exist,and she was determined to use them. She had a prey to catch,and it was still around,roaming.
Kira knew it. At night, she dreamt of the white wolf—of its dark eyes,and pristine fur,which glistened under the light. In her dreams, it ran from her,always just barely ahead,but ultimately untouchable. He wasn’t afraid of Kira—in the dreams, he’d entertain her, let her chase.
But ultimately, disappear,with the eternal promise to return. If Kira didn’t stop him, he’d come for the pack. He’d come for her. But most importantly, the wolf had already come for Logan,and that Kira couldn’t bear.
She wasn’t the only on the hunt for revenge. Others from the pack now patrolled the woods, whether by day or night, on the lookout for the wolf—or perhaps some desperate sign of their missing Alpha. People weren’t holding their breath, though. It had been almost two months now.
If Logan were alive, he’d have made contact by now. Their pack was without an alpha,and perhaps growing slightly insane as a result. Maybe they’d soon all grow feral, losing themselves,and their ways, with—without a guiding light. Every night, Kira went into the woods.
She knew how to avoid her packmates,which paths to take,and where to look where they wouldn’t. Let them find the white wolf. She didn’t mind who killed it, but she wasn’t going to leave it up to chance. The wolf had been powerful—able to take on almost six other shifters at once.
Kira was no fool. She couldn’t beat it with pure strength, but the wolf wasn’t human anymore—unable to turn back,and having gone feral,it wasn’t thinking like a human. This gave Kira the advantage she needed. She’d climb into the tallest trees in the woods,with her bowand arrows,on the lookout, watching like a silent vigilante.
But he never showed—until one night, he did. Kira almost couldn’t believe it at first. Surely she’d hallucinated. The white furand swift movement amongst the trees on her left.
But no—there it was. The unmistakable flash of white that had haunted her dreams,and fueled her days with a burning quest for vengeance. Heart pounding, she steadied her breath,and aimed her bow, finger trembling ever so slightly on the string. With a silent prayer for accuracy, she let the arrow fly.
It whistled through the cool night air, intent,and precise. But at the last moment, the wolf veered left, the arrow slicing harmlessly through the space where its head had been seconds before. Cursing under her breath, Kira quickly notched another arrow, but the white wolf was already bounding away—its movements a blur of speedand grace. Who knew when it would show up next?
Who knew how Logan had died? No one but this wolf—and this wolf was going to pay. Without a second thought, Kira leaped from her perch in the tree, landing agilely on the forest floor. Adrenaline surged through her veins as she sprinted after the wolf.
The distance between them closing with every breath. Her fingers gripped the bow tightly, another arrow ready to fly. The chase was intense, weaving through the dense underbrush,and dodging low-hanging branches that seemed to grasp at her like the fingers of the night. Kira’s training kicked in, her body moving with practiced ease, despite the pounding of her heart,and the cloud of emotions swirling within her.
Finally, the white wolf slowed,and came to a stop in a small clearing that would have been bathed in moonlight, if not for the heavy clouds that obscured the sky. It turned to face her. Its deep blue eyes piercing through the darkness. Kira raised her bow.
She had one arrow left. But then, in a move that shocked Kira to her core, the wolf lowered its body to the ground—submitting to her. Its eyes never left hers—a silent challenge, or was it a plea? Kira’s hand shook as she fought with her conscience.
The arrow quivering against the string. Then an image of Logan succumbing to—to this very wolf—crossed her mind. She released her arrow. The wolf barely made a sound.
Just then, the wind that had been rising during the chase, slowing Kira’s movements to a frustrating degree, managed to push away some of the dark clouds looming over the forest. Moonlight pierced into the clearing, illuminating the scene in an ethereal light. The wolf’s fur glistened around the red gash of its wound—until it didn’t. Replaced by human flesh.
Kira gasped, her heart skipping a beat. Slowly, with her hand on the handle of her knife, she approached the fallen figure, taking in the muscular build of a man whose face was turned away from her. Kira didn’t need to see his face to recognize the small birthmark beneath the left shoulder blade—one she’d stared at growing up, when she’d watched this man train from afar, certain he would notice. She froze, feeling the air drain from her lungs.
No. This couldn’t be possible. Logan, she whispered. He groaned.
It sounded like him. It also sounded like he was in pain—which he was, because there was an arrow buried in his flank. One Kira had put there. He turned his face towards her.
His blue eyes watching her in stupor—though whether it was from being recognized, or because Kira had shot him, she didn’t know. Thirteen. Logan’s head lies on Kira’s knees. His broad shoulders bare, but the rest of his body is covered with her cloak.
He’d swiftly removed the arrow with a grunt, confident he’d heal quickly—which he would. But in the meantime, he felt a little disoriented,by a strong urge to close his eyes. I’m sorry, Kira says from above, her face twisted in concern. I’ve laced the arrow with that strong sedative we—use to hunt bears.
Logan smiles. She’d done a remarkable job tracking him before,and he is quite impressed. Clever, he says, raising his hand to graze her skin, but missing his mark. Finding his muscle difficult to move.
God—and his eyelids feel so heavy. Don’t fall asleep, Alpha. Kira shakes his shoulders, making him groan. Logan’s tempted to bury his nose in the warmth of her body, but her next words make him raise his gaze to her face instead.
I thought you were dead, Kira whispers, tears welling in her eyes. Everyone thinks you’re dead. She lies her hand on his cheek. Her sweet, floral scent hitting Logan’s nostrils.
Kira doesn’t have a wolf,and her scent is subdued, but it is a scent he knows,and trusts. Pleasant in its lightness, which only leaves him wanting more. He rubs his nose against her wrist, drowsily. He shouldn’t—for Kira isn’t his—but he can’t help himself.
What happened to you? she asks. Logan shrugs. Not sure.
I woke in wolf form. I didn’t realize I couldn’t shift back at first. When I did, it was too late. I was already losing myself to the wolf.
Losing yourself? Kira asks. Usually when I shift, it feels like a different, more primal side of me takes over, but I’m still there, somewhat. It’s different now.
I lose track of time,and forget who I meant to be. Except— Except? Kira encourages. I don’t know, Logan closes his eyes.
It comes back to me sometimes, briefly. He doesn’t add more. Well, you’re back now, Kira says, relief lacing her words. When you’re up to it, we’ll go back to the pack—and— I don’t know how long this is going to last, Logan confesses.
I’m not sure it will. I feel like it won’t. Kira keeps quiet at that for a moment. You feel like, or you know?
she asks, eventually. The wolf is there in my mind. It feels close, comes the reply. There’s a strange energy coursing through Logan—one he doesn’t recognize,and that wasn’t there before.
I think it’s magic, he says, drifting away. Magic? Kira repeats, feeling quite dumb. Logan nods.
Above him, Kira has this look on her face—this worried, distressed look that makes it seem as if the world is ending. It reminds Logan of his mother. You’ll be fine, kid, he says. Don’t waste your time worrying about me.
I— I’m not a kid, Kira replies,and of course I’m worried. The pack needs you. Logan— There are already talks of who should replace you as Alpha. Before another comes—and Logan’s eyes snap open, suddenly more alert.
It won’t come to that. Well, if you’re not there to lead, it might. She purses her lips in hesitation. Clark has been approached by Alpha Hudson—that idiot, brute from the Ironwood clan.
Logan asks. That very one. Kira sighs. I wasn’t invited to the conversation, but I think we both know he—coming here when you’re away is no coincidence.
Yeah, he’d make a move on the pack, Logan nods. He’s obsessed with growing his territory,and he wouldn’t be above seizing control of our pack. Don’t think he’d dare try—and conquer by force, but an alliance of some sort— Logan grimaces at the idea, grabbing onto Kira’s hand. Listen to me, he says.
Here’s what you’re going to do. He tells her—and Kira protests, but then he tells her again,and again, answering every single one of her questions,and doubts, with pragmatic,to-the-point,and assured answers—until the moon disappears,replaced with the sun,and the white wolf is there in his stead, once more. Fourteen. The room inside the pack house is thick with tension,and the musky scent of apprehension.
Voices rise,and fall in a heated debate over the precarious future of their pack,and the unnerving proposition to submit to Alpha Hudson—an ambitious leader from a neighboring, lower-class pack. Normally, no one would consider it. But there are worse alphas out there than Hudson,and the pack needs an alpha. But if some might have been tempted to try for the throne amongst the pack’s current residents, the fact that Clark—Logan’s beta,and the best-suited candidate for the job—hasn’t proclaimed himself—has everyone’s self-doubt creeping up, threateningly.
If Clark doesn’t think he can do it, how could anyone else? It’s looking moreand more likely that every pack representative is going to fall behind the idea of Alpha Hudson—until the heavy door to the council chamber swings open,and Kira steps into the room. The interruption is stark, halting every conversation as all eyes turn toward her unexpected presence. Her appearance is as plain as ever—that pale, youthful face,and two large, ill-fitting clothes—leaving much to be desired.
But her gaze is hard,and commanding—the gaze of a conqueror. It makes everyone uneasy,and a couple of sneers arise on many’s faces. Wolves follow hierarchy,but it doesn’t mean they enjoy submitting. Submission must be earned.
Clark’s words falter,and a ripple of surprise spreads through the gathered members. Kira’s voice cuts through the stunned silence. We will not get behind Alpha Hudson’s desire to expand his pack, she declares firmly, her youthful determination filling the space. Does anyone here even like—the idea?
I think not. A murmur of disbelief swirls through the room. You’re just a kid, Kira—a seasoned warrior retorts, dismissively, from the back, his voice echoing the thoughts of many. You have no business in this meeting.
Kira’s gaze doesn’t waver. I am our Alpha’s mate,and since he has no heir, the closest thing to a replacement he has within the pack—I’d say this makes it my business. And besides, Marcus—she adds towards the warrior—everyone in the pack can attend these council sessions, should they wish it—or have you forgotten, in your old age? The warrior growls at her, but Kira ignores him.
A faint smirk playing on her lips, her voice, though calm, carries a weight that brings forth a certain stupor amongst the crowd. This young girl—they know,and never paid in mind to—is suddenly standing there amongst them, head held high, positioning herself with a resolve that would have seemed foolish, perhaps—if not for the cold, impenetrable steel of her gaze. Silence falls upon the room. Kira remains still amongst the stares,and just as unperturbed, when an elder snorts.
Logan rejected you, girl. You have no claim here. Kira’s gaze snaps to her, stunning all bubbling laughter silent. But he hasn’t taken another mate—which, according to our laws, still makes me his mate in the interim.
Her clarification stirs a buzz among the pack members. Some nod in reluctant agreement, while others exchange uncertain glances. The room’s agitation grows palpable. But Kira steps forward, her presence increasingly commanding.
Logan would never stand for us to bow to Alpha Hudson. Our values do not align with his, she asserts, her voice barely rising, but weighing everyone down nonetheless. Fine, Alpha-mate, Clark says with a raise of his eyebrows. If you’re so against Alpha Hudson, who do you suggest should lead?
He knows what she’ll say, but he needs her to say it—even more, he needs her to say it convincingly. Kira smiles briefly. It’s not a warm smile, but that of someone who’s already won. I will, she proclaims, with Clark’s help.
Skepticism surfaces again as someone points out her lack of a wolf. The moment stretches, taut with anticipation—before she says, clearly,and confidently. But I do have a wolf. And—as if on cue—which, in retrospect, it must have been—the massive white wolf strides into the room, like a growing menace.
Its presence overwhelming. Blue eyes locking with those of every shifter present. The room falls into a deeper silence. The impact of the white wolf’s entrance vibrating through the air.
Everyone’s eyes are riveted on this majestic creature that now stands protectively beside Kira. The murmurs die down. The initial disbelief fades, replaced by a growing recognition of her power,and legitimacy. With the white wolf at her side, Kira walks with a regal grace to the front of the room,and slowly, deliberately, sits in the Alpha’s chair.
Her escort, the imposing wolf, settles next to her—a silent sentinel. No one speaks. Their silence—a heavy, conceding blanket—acknowledges her claim. If anyone wants this pack, they can challenge my authority by engaging with my wolf in combat, she says, pointing towards the white gigantic beast with her chin.
Though—she adds, with a youthful, innocent smile—good luck with that. Fifteen. Let me get this straight, Willow says, pacing around the bedroom. Logan’s been turned into a white wolf—no one recognizes—and is stuck in this form.
Keep your voice down, Kira replies, giving the white wolf currently seated beside her a glance. And while he remains stuck in this form, you’ll be acting as this pack’s Alpha— You— Willow’s stunned gaze turns into an excited grin. That is bloody brilliant—news! she exclaims, eyes shining with manic enthusiasm.
You’ve been reading Harry Potter again, haven’t you? Kira comments, half-amused,half-afraid of what her young sister’s excitement might mean. Imagine what would have happened if we’d been stuck with that—other—for an alpha! Willow squeals.
But everything’s fixed now. I’m so relieved. Everything is not fixed, Kira protests, pointing towards Logan. Our Alpha is still stuck like this, remember?
Willow makes an uncomfortable grimace. And besides, I don’t think I can do this for long, Kira adds, jumping to her feet, betraying her nerves. I don’t even know how I managed to convince everyone to make me Alpha—of all people—in the meantime. Her gaze falls onto Logan, who’s growling softly at her.
Yes, I know you think it’s all about confidence, she tells him, but that’s because you’re actually qualified for the job. You can speak with him? Willow interrupts, confused. No—we spoke when he turned back last night, Kira explains,and we’ve come up with a signal so he can help me lead in the meantime.
But we have to find a way to turn him back to his human self more permanently—and before Willow can reply, she adds—which is why I’ll be going to see the magician tomorrow. Upon hearing Kira’s words, her younger sister visibly pales. The magician—she squeaks, eyes widening—the one who grants wishes? No—the fake one who hides cards up his sleeve, Kira snaps.
Yes—the one who grants wishes. Willow swallows audibly. Kira—she says—this guy’s dangerous. He grants wishes for a price.
Well, whatever price it is—I’ll pay it, Kira concludes. Logan can’t stay like this. There’s no other choice. Besides, her Logan growls, clearly not liking the idea, but Kira ignores him.
She doesn’t have a choice. He’d said he felt like his condition had been caused by magic. If that were the case, only magic would free him of it. And there was only one person Kira knew of who practiced real, powerful magic around here—and it was the magician.
Too bad everyone she knew of who’d ever gone to him had spent the rest of their lives regretting it, immensely. It didn’t make one feel particularly enthusiastic at the prospect of meeting with him. Sixteen. Kira takes a long breath as she travels up the main street of the small town.
The quaint buildings with their peeling paint,and charmingly crooked signs line the main road, where faded cobblestones peak through the weather-worn asphalt. Each storefront—from the thrift stores to the cozy diner,with steamed-up windows—seems to whisper stories of days gone by. It’s been years since she last visited,and the sight of the old tower standing proud against the sky stirs a mix of nostalgiaand excitement in her heart. She quickens her steps—a mixture of nervesand exhilaration.
The last time she’d come here, she’d been a little girl,and her parents had taken her out for ice cream,and a new book—she’d picked an old fairy-tales book, with a used, brown cover—the one she now reads to Willow every night. They’d found it in an old, dusty bookstore, after not finding what Kira dreamed of in the more modern one down the street. She turns a corner onto a small street, looking for that very store now. Back then, Kira had met its owner—a handsome young man with copper hair,and light green eyes—who’d winked at her,and made her laugh, despite how intimidated she had felt in his presence.
Her parents had quickly driven her away, after handing him money. He has magic, her father had explained, urging Kira to never go back there—which, of course, only made her more curious. Dark magic, her mother had said, holding her hand tight. Never go anywhere near it, Kira.
It only leads to trouble. Later, she’d heard stories about the man—the magician, they called him. Someone from a neighboring pack had gone to see him, to make a wish,and it had come true—miraculously. Perhaps this magician was still around,and could help Logan turn back.
Kira finds the bookstore again,and when she arrives, she finds it just the same as she’d left it all those years ago. A faint tingle of unease dances up her spine as she pushes open the heavy wooden door. The bell above gives a weak, muffled jangle,as if surprised to be disturbed. Inside, the air is thick with the scent of old paper,and musty secrets.
Books tower in precarious stacks around the dimly lit room, their spines cracked,and covers faded. Dust motes swirl in the sparse shafts of sunlight that filter through the dirty windows, casting long, uneven shadows across the floor. Every surface is cluttered with arcane artifacts,and mysterious trinkets that seem to watch her from their silent perches. The air feels static with the power of unwritten knowledge,and the quiet is so profound it almost hums.
As Kira steps further into the room, her eyes slowly adjust to the dim light. The room feels alive—listening, perhaps even aware of her quest. Her heart beats faster with both trepidationand hope—until her eyes fall onto the young woman behind the counter. Kira had been expectingthe magician, but instead she’d found me.
Hello, she greeted me, with the uncertain resolve of all those who come here hoping to make a wish—that is to say, a good dose of desperation. Can I help you? I replied, politely. In truth, I was already thinking of ways to deter this young lady—who I guessed was a shifter.
We got quite a lot of shifters here. It wasn’t the first time I’d faced one,and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. This shifter, with her light brown hair,and pale complexion, was far from the most impressive I’d ever met,and I imagined she probably wanted to wish for a stronger wolf, or something. Shifters were obsessed with strength,and dominance—or sex, depending if it was mating season or not.
Well, the young girl hesitated—I was wondering if the magician was here. The last word hesitantly, almost sounding embarrassed. I sighed. She seemed like a nice girl—probably 18 or 19 at most.
Look, I said—you don’t want to do this. The girl looked taken aback, so I took the opportunity to continue. Yes, he can grant you a wish. And know, he won’t refuse—because he literally can’t.
If you insist on making your wish, he has to grant it—even if it’s stupid—and it often is. Because in exchange, he’ll take what matters to you most. And trust me—me—nobody wants that. What matters most to me?
The shifter asked, with a frown. It’s rarely what you think it is, I explained, before asking—look, what’s your name? She told me her name, then said—I already lost what matters to me most. I have nothing,and want nothing, except to help my Alpha.
I sighed. Helping her Alpha. All these shifter girls always worshiped their Alpha. They called it a pack.
I called it a harem. I’ll go get him, I said—because I was obligated to, if the client insisted. Just like Adrian was obligated to grant the wish, if the client insisted. He didn’t like it, though.
I’ve been working for him for more than a year now,and I could tell—whenever he had to grant a wish, he’d be in a terrible mood for days—which was saying something, because his moods were never too stable to begin with. Adrien was old. He may not look it—in fact, he looked very young—but he was. I didn’t know how old, but I knew he was immortal,and essentially trapped in this shop,and this role.
Not that he talked to me about it. A client is here, I announced, crossing over the—portal—door to the back of the shop. The back of the shop was a wild, flowery field, bathed in an everlasting sunset—that could be accessed from the shop. I wasn’t sure if Adrien had created it, just that it existed.
It was a beautiful place,beyond which lay something sinister—that was hard to pinpoint. It was where Adrien hid when he wanted to drink alone—which had been often these last few days. I kind of hoped I’d find him too drunk for the job. For the client was young,and seemed kind,and I already knew Adrien would absolutely hate to take from her.
But he was awake,and his gaze was lucid when it fell upon me. I did try to send them away, I said, hurriedly—for he scared me a little when he looked like that—cold,and unreadable. He got up without a word to me. As he passed me by— My assistant must have told you about the rules, I’m sure—Adrien said, in lieu of a greeting, sagging into a chair near Kira—who was staring at him, stunned.
It was the same book owner as when she was little. And by the same—she meant—he hadn’t changed one bit. It had been years, but he hadn’t aged at all. He had the same long, emaciated face of a 30-some young man—too thin to be handsome, but with something enthralling about it nonetheless—maybe the eyes, or the cheekbones.
Are you mute? The magician asked, making Kira jump. No, she replied, hurriedly—sorry. I came to stand by Kira’s side, to make her feel more comfortable—not because I wanted to,but because it was my job.
Adrien practiced dark magic,and there was an aura around him that made most supernatural beings feel tense,and uneasy. Personally—being human—the only thing he made me feel was mild to strong annoyance, when he forgot to clean up after himself. What is it that you want, then? The magician asked.
Kira—the girl clenched her fists in resolve. My Alpha’s been stuck in wolf form for a few weeks, for some reason. I was hoping you could help— Adrian’s eyes drifted off very briefly,and then, to both my and Kira’s surprise, he said—actually, no. I can’t help you.
Sorry. My jaw nearly hit the floor at this stage—because I’d never seen Adrien turn down a client—ever. Warn them of the risks, yes. Subtly try to change their mind, yes.
But refuse? I thought you couldn’t say no, Kira argued, giving me a look. Normally, I cannot, Adrien agreed. But in this case, I’m afraid I’ll have to make an exception.
Your Alpha’s been cursed, you see. Cursed? Kira’s eyes widened in surprise. Why—how do you know—and who would do such a thing to him?
Adrien smiled. It seemed carefree,and perhaps a little mocking. I suspected it was a facade. Well, that’s easy, he replied.
It was me. I cursed him. Seventeen. Logan stares as Kira reviews several documents, reading them out loud for his benefit.
He actually doesn’t need her to read them—he knows precisely what they’re discussing today: a dispute over territory borders, brought by Alpha Hudson—who’d been furious at having his chance for expansion ruined. Logan already knows how he wants this solved—and if needed, he’ll communicate to Kira by tapping his nose against her hand—or shin—as they’d planned. But honestly, it’s a straightforward matter,and Kira is fast on her feet. She’ll have this figured out in no time—especially with Clark’s knowledge of their bordersand resources guiding her.
She’s still berating herself for not having been able to make a wish on Logan’s behalf, though. If he could, he’d tell her—he’s relieved. He doesn’t want her making sacrifices for him. He’s the alpha of this pack,and he should be the one making the sacrifices.
He’s happy the magician refused Kira. He couldn’t bear it if she’d lost what mattered most to her, because of Logan. He is, however, curious as to why the magician has cursed him. Obviously—because someone’s must have made a wish for him to be—but who?
Alpha Hudson? Another rival? Why curse him,and not simply kill Logan,if the aim was to be rid of him? It didn’t make sense.
And being a wolf didn’t help make him think clearly. He hadn’t lost himself to his wolf again after reuniting with Kira,and the pack, but Logan didn’t feel completely himself either. He was lucid, but his thoughts were impaired by raw instincts,and heightened senses,which overwhelmed his more analytical mind. Thank God for Kira.
Her voice is smooth—a rather deep voice for a young girl—measured,and composed. There’s a certain blankness to it that makes one feel uneasy—like it is impossible to know what Kira is thinking. But unlike most people believe, it is not that she is unfeeling—rather, that she is kind,and tends to hide her feelings away, as to not impose them on other people. Kira is considerate, but she is strong,and most importantly, independent.
She doesn’t need others. She can deal with her own stuff. And she is inexperienced,but observant. She already knew more aboutthe pack,and its requirements than Logan expected, as he briefed her that night—the one he turned back into his human form.
It had been a too-brief night for all that they had to cover,and yet Kira had taken all of the information in stride, not once batting an eyelash at the enormity of the task Logan was bequeathing her. She’d made an excellent mate, he thinks, watching her tug a strand of light brown hair behind her ear. He’d been lucky to have her for a mate—not that he’d ever thought differently on the matter. He may not have known Kira intimately before this whole ordeal, but he’d already had a high opinion of her,and a good deal of affection, too—if he were being honest.
But the fact remained that Logan couldn’t have her. He wasn’t right for her,and sooner or later, he’d have made her unhappy. The more he got to know Kira,the less he’d regretted his decision. She deserved better than an older man she’d been blindly infatuated with,because of his title,and whatever fate meant.
Fate was an illusion. He wouldn’t inflict it on a bright young girl with a traumatic past who didn’t know better. Eighteen. Willow has mysteriously taken to sleeping in her own room—a miracle,if there had ever been one—for she’d always refused to sleep anywhere else,but by Kira’s side.
Apparently, having to share her quarters with an enormous white wolf who rarely slept had gotten the better of her—and she’d declared that if Kira insisted on keeping Logan in their bedroom, she’d rather sleep somewhere else. She hadn’t seemed to mind too much, though—which Kira found highly suspicious. But having struggled to make her sister sleep in her own bed for years, she hadn’t asked her too many questions as she’d moved out. However, what she hadn’t expected was her sister’s absence to take such a toll on her.
Apparently, Kira had gotten used to feeling a warm body besides her at night,and in the absence of it, her childhood nightmares had come crawling back, full force. Every night, she’d open her eyes to the feel of Logan’s muzzle pressed against her cheek, in an effort to drive away whatever was plaguing her—which Kira couldn’t remember upon waking up. It got to a point where he would crawl in bed,and sleep beside her—Kira’s hands gripping his fur. She’d feel a little embarrassed upon waking up, but not enough to pass up on a comfort she so rarely got to receive.
One—she’d dreamed of, to make her feel better since she’d been little. More accurately, though—she didn’t feel embarrassed until one night. Kira woke up to the feel of a strong chest against her cheek,and very human muscles beneath her palms. Her eyes snapped open onto Logan’s face, peaceful in slumber.
Kira’s heart fluttered as she watched him. The intimacy of the moment weaving a warm thread through the cool night air. The dim moonlight filtering through the curtains cast a soft glow over his features, highlightingthe gentle rise and fall of his chest with each breath. She becomes torn between the urge to wake him,and the desire to let—the moment linger.
His face, usually so stern with the weight of leadership, now seemed serene—almost vulnerable in sleep. It was a sight of him so rarely seen—it made her cherish—the sight all the more. Her hand, seemingly with a mind of its own, reached out to brush a wayward lock of hair from his forehead. The touch was a spark.
Igniting a deeper, more primal attraction. The warmth of his body. The steady rhythm of his breathing. All fed—the burgeoning heat within her.
Kira’s breath caught as her fingers skimmed lightly down his arm, feeling—the ripple of muscle beneath the skin—the power coiled even in rest. The proximity—the quiet—the forbidden thrill of touching him so freely—it all culminated in a surge of desire that left her aching,yearning. The old Kira might not have dared. If in fact—the old Kira would have never.
But this Kira had found—the strength to lead an entire pack of wolves while having none herself. Knowing she may never have such an opportunity again, she slowly bent her head, placing a light kiss at the corner of Logan’s lips. He sighed softly, but didn’t stir. Meanwhile, Kira’s heartbeat is so quick she feels like she isn’t getting enough air.
Wild heat coursing through her veins, emboldened, she bends down again—this time pressing her lips onto his—in another light kiss—and another—and another—until she feels a large, strong hand tighten around her bicep. Kira— Logan asks, sounding half-asleep, still. His soft gaze quickly changes into a dark,intense one—which doesn’t reflect anger—rather something Kira dares not name—but which leaves her breathless all the same. His face is inches from hers,still,and the way he looks—looks at her—she can’t stop herself from kissing him again—loving the heat of his hands on her back—the way his breath hitches—before he deepens their kiss—pressing her down on the bed.
Heat coils within her. She wraps her arms around his neck, feeling somewhat out of her depth—self-conscious about her lack of experience—but also too happy to care. It is like an outside force is pulling them together,and Kira is loath to resist. Then, abruptly, Logan pulls away.
We can’t, he says, sitting up. Kira watches his shoulders shake against the backdrop of the moon. He’s close,still, but feels miles away—as distant,and unapproachable as ever—the elusive alpha she could never approach. I’m never going to be good enough for you, am I?
She hears herself whisper—the words coming out before she even thought them. Logan shifts, but she doesn’t want to look at him anymore. What? He asks from somewhere in the darkness—his voice is soft—there’s something choked about it.
I did everything you asked. I took over—the pack, as you asked. I think I’m doing an okay job—of course you are, Logan begins—then why— To her horror, Kira feels tears running down her face. She hates herself for them—for this sign of weakness—that’s not the way to show Logan she can be a good mate.
She already has the disadvantage of being without a wolf. She cannot let her emotion control—control her on top of that. It is unacceptable. And yet—and yet—the tears fall nonetheless.
Never mind, she says, rising up from the bed. Wait—Kira— She runs outside—the room—ignoring his protests. It is immature,and ridiculous to run away, when she so rarely gets the chance to speak with him like this. There is much they need to discuss.
But she can’t bring herself to do it—to put her feelings aside,and do what’s right for the pack. So ultimately, she realizes—of course Logan rejected her. She isn’t fit for an alpha. She isn’t right for him.
Nineteen. Kira comes back to see the magician,and again,and again. But Adrian’s answer is always the same. Once a wish is made, it cannot be undone—until the day I die.
Unfortunately—him being immortal—there was no chance of that happening. And yet Kira kept coming back,and Adrien kept refusing her. He couldn’t annul the wish for Logan to be cursed,and he couldn’t grant a new wish which would annul the previous one either—as that was essentially the same thing. Kira would nod, her shoulders would sag,and she’d leave.
And once she was gone, Adrien’s expression would fall too,and he’d keep to himself for days onwards. I don’t think he very much liked what he did to Logan,and the fact that the curse hadn’t yet been resolved was slowly eating him alive. But the thing was that he really couldn’t refuse someone who insisted upon making their wish. It wasn’t his fault.
Those were the rules. I’ve been living with Adrien for a while now, working as his assistant,ever since my father died. And still—I didn’t exactly know who made the rules. If it weren’t for him—at first, I hadn’t really questioned them—nor Adrien’s reality.
It was bizarre, yes—but my father had died,and I was now stuck with a magician—that had already been enough to process at the time. But it was different now. It didn’t seem fair to me—how people would come to him,and Adrien had to not only oblige them—no matter what—but then suffer the consequences of their poor choices—cursed with a guilty conscience, despite him not having had the possibility to make a better choice in the first place. I also felt a little sorry for myself.
I didn’t have anybody but Adrien left in the world,and he was already bizarre,and deranged enough as it was,without newcomers that kept plaguing him with new wishes. I wish they’d leave him alone—though, in the privacy of my mind. Of course, for I’d never make an actual wish to him. I knew better.
All this to say—whenever Kira visited, she’d leave Adrien in a terrible mood,and I left to pick the pieces—and by that I mean the actual pieces of all the empty bottles he’d leave trailing behind him. That little charade lasted for a year—until one day, it got worse. I’m worried about Logan, she said, one day—her big, round eyes filled with sorrow. He’s different these days.
Usually, he may be a wolf, but I can tell he’s there, inside—paying attention—listening—but these days, it’s like there is less,and less of him left,and more,and more of the wolf. I frowned. You mean—you think he’s losing his humanity? I asked.
Yes—Kira had nodded, sounding choked. The first time he’ turned back—and he was living alone in the woods—he said as much, that he would lose himself to the wolf. But ever since he’s been back amongst us, he’s been better. I thought—at least—this problem was over,and done with.
Adrien—who’ looked as if he hadn’t been paying attention to a word Kira said, busying himself playing darts in the back of the shop—had intervened. He’s been a wolf too long, he’ said. If you don’t find a way to break his curse, he’ll slowly lose his humanity—until there’s none of it left. What?
Kira had paled—looking crestfallen—but why? Why would you inflict such a thing upon him? Adrien had sent her a bored look. Because someone wished for it, of course—or have you not been following all the times I’ve been telling you?
Kira’s eyes had flooded with tears. How can someone be so cruel as to wish this fate upon him? She’d exclaimed. He’s done nothing wrong— Has he not?
Adrien snapped, making her go quiet for a moment. Kira looked slightly taken aback by Adrian’s tone—or by what he’d actually said. I wasn’t sure. He—he hasn’t, she protested.
All the same—didn’t he reject you? Adrien said, meeting her eyes. Kira froze. Eyes going wide.
One second she stood there, looking like she’d been slapped,and then she ran out of the shop. As she stepped through the door, Adrien clenched a hand against his chest, face going so pale I thought he was going to be sick. What’s wrong? I asked, taking a step towards him.
He ignored me, sitting himself down on the floor instead. You weren’t allowed to tell her that—were you? I sighed. It’s hurting you.
Adrien must follow rules,and when he doesn’t, he physically suffers—the consequences. He doesn’t let it show,and I hadn’t always noticed—but knowing better now, I think it hurts more than he cares to admit. Clenching my fists, I exited the shop, running after Kira’s retreating figure. Wait—I called after her.
She didn’t turn around, but she did stop in her tracks. I’m sorry about your Alpha, I say—to her back—because I am. I really am. But you’re hurting Adrien—with your questions.
Adrien? Kira asked—that’s his name? I replied—a sinking feeling in my chest as it occurred to me—no one ever bothered asking Adrien for it. Oh—Kira said, I think, coming to realize the same thing.
Her shoulders sagged. Don’t come back, I warned her—even though there was very little I could do to prevent her from doing so. He told you the truth. He can’t help you.
If he does—it’ll hurt him. You understand? She said nothing,and walked away. Twenty.
Kira lives in the pack house now—with Willow,and, of course, Logan. They are not alone. Clark practically lives there. And then there’s Joy.
Joy is a beautiful woman in her early 50s who looks at least 15 years younger than that—because she is a shifter,and shifters age slowly. She’s emaciated,from forgetting to eat,staring absently out the windows for days,instead. Despite this—she is very beautiful—especially her eyes—as blue as Logan’s. For Joy is his mother,and they look very much alike.
Kira likes to come and sit by her—because the sight of her—unlike most people who grow uneasy in her forlorn presence—eases the ache of Logan’s absence. Joy is the only person besides Willow Kira told about Logan’s curse—feeling like a mother has the right to know about her child. She thought it would make her feel better—though it hadn’t. The death of her mate broke her.
Clark had once explained—they were fated,you know. It’s excruciating to lose a mate—but a fated mate—even more so. It’s a miracle Joy is still alive, Kira thinks. Though perhaps she isn’t—not really.
When she told Logan’s mother about her—about her son’s fate—she thought she might not have heard her—as she didn’t react—instead staring into space,with that absent look in her eyes. But then, eventually, in a gravelly voice that was too unused to sound normal,she murmured. When he became Alpha—I said—I wished he died instead of his father. It makes Kira freeze in place.
The way she says this—cold,and detached. You were in pain, she says, hesitantly. You didn’t mean it— But I did mean it, Joy said, turning to her for the first—and only—time. I still mean it—which is how I know of your magician.
I could have wished my mate back to life—but I was afraid he’d take my son as payment—and so I didn’t. It was a choice—and it is one I make every day—and it hurts. Logan never went to see his mother—and now Kira understood why. She felt horrified by Joy’s words.
But despite them—or maybe, precisely because of them—Kira would go,and sit by her every day,and read to her. She told herself it was to comfort her—but in reality, it was perhaps more because she hoped Joy would be too distracted to wish for something that could hurt Logan. Every day, for almost a year, Kira read Joy a story—until one day, the day she finally understood,she read her this one. It’s called “Valman—The White Bear King,” she says, sitting beside Joy.
It’s one of my favorites. Joy didn’t react. So Kira began. Once upon a time, there was a king with two daughters who were ugly,and evil—but a third,who was as fair,and soft as the bright day.
One night—his third daughter dreamt of a golden wreath,so lovely that she couldn’t live without it. Kira went on—the story unfolding in her mind before she even got to the words,as she knew it by heart. It was one Willow used to request over,and over again when they’d been younger. But once, when she was in the wood,she set her eyes upon a white bear—who had the very wreath she had dreamt of—between his paws—and was playing with it.
The princess wanted to buy it—but the bear said she could only have it—if he could have her. Because she thought life was not worth living without the wreath,she agreed. Willow questioned—what a wreath was,and how a princess could become so obsessed with one that she’d agree to marry a bear,and run away with him,to his castle. Kira would reply that it was symbolic of their love—and fate between them—and besides,the bear was in reality a prince.
At last they came to a magnificent castle. This castle was so fine that it made her father’s castle look like a grungy little cottage in comparison. The king’s daughter lived very well there. She had every luxury.
The white bear was away during the day—but he came back to her at night—and at night,he was a man. Kira interrupted her reading—her eyes getting stuck on that last sentence. The white bear was away during—dur—the day, but he came back to her at night—and at night—the words had been underlined with a pencil,and an eraser had since tried to hide—the fact away, but it remained. Kira could tell—and feel—the indent of it beneath her fingertip.
At night,he was a man—the page said. Something uncomfortable settled in the pit of Kira’s stomach. She tried to ignore it,and move on with her story—of how the princess betrayed—the prince,and had to go about,and rescue him—but the words kept ringing back in her ears. The white bear was away during the day,but he came back to her at night,and at night—he was a man.
It didn’t mean anything. It wasn’t even close to being the same thing,really. Logan turned back into a man at night—during the full moon—big difference. Nothing to do with this story—and besides,he was a wolf—not a bear—a white wolf—not a white bear.
But then she kept wondering—how could anyone wish such a terrible curse upon Logan? Logan—who’ done nothing wrong. Didn’t he reject you? The magician had said.
Kira had been hurt—for she’d felt responsible. She’d felt accused,and hurt—that anyone could imply she’d ever—do anything to harm—the man she loved,in any way—that she could somehow be behind what had happened. The white bear was away during the day,but he came back to her at night,and at night—he was a man. Logan had done nothing wrong—except reject Kira,which no one could possibly perceive as wrong,since—since Kira didn’t have a wolf.
No one—save for the one person who’ never cared—never understood why it mattered if Kira had a wolf or not. Kira didn’t finish her story. She began to cry,instead. Twenty-one.
How could you? She says, tone blank. To her credit, Willow doesn’t try to deny it. Instead, she stares at the page inside the fairy tale book,with a stubborn pout—before raising her proud gaze towards Kira.
He rejected you, she defends. He was a fool—and so you cursed him? Kira interrupts—her voice betraying her anger. Willow’s mouth twists into a grimace—only to make it better—to help you—she says—her tone more imploring now—somehow begging for Kira to understand.
But Kira doesn’t understand,nor does she want to. Do you even realize what you’ve done? She screams, rising to her feet in agitation. Inside her chest, her heart is beating wildly—tightening her throat.
Her mind keeps going back-and-forth between horror,and denial. It can’t be. Her little sister—wouldn’t—she’d never do such a thing. She was a kind,loyal child—an innocent child—a good child.
You’ll see—it’s going to work out, Willow promises, her gaze just as innocent as it ever was. She really believes it—Kira realizes. She really thinks she’s done good. He’s our Alpha—our leader—the pack hasn’t been the same ever since he’s been turned.
Willow—Logan hasn’t been the same. He’s losing himself in this form,and it’s impacting everyone—even you. Willow’s eyes have turned a dangerous shade of gold—like everyone in the pack—everyone but Kira. She has a wolf,and wolves respond to their Alpha—their Alpha,who is currently acting less,and less like a human,and more,and more like a beast—showing aggression at every turn,and letting his instinct take over.
The curse can be broken, Willow says—and it will. How? Kira demands, grabbing at the hem of her shirt. Tell me how.
I can’t—if I tell you,it won’t work. Kira shakes her head in disbelief. Tell me now. Willow— No!
I command you—to tell me— No! Willow screams, pushing Kira off. And then it all happens in an instant. One minute, Kira is on the ground, Willow bearing her teeth at her like a beast ready to pounce.
The next, Logan jumps into the room between them, growling at Willow—in a stance that couldn’t be more aggressive. Stop! Kira screams. Willow, feeling—the threat for what it is—refuses to back down.
Under Kira’s horrified gaze,she begins to shift. So swiftly that Kira would have been impressed under any other circumstance—except right now,her little sister is shifting,so she can fight her mate—their Alpha—and most importantly—a wolf at least five times her size—which, if it fights back,could have her sister killed in an instant. Stop it! Kira says, jumping in between them once more.
She knows what Logan will do—before he does. He hasn’t even fully pounced at Willow yet—when Kira raises her arm,and it’s that arm that encounters Logan’s fangs—his teeth piercing her flesh,and perhaps her bones. Kira screams. And then Clark is there,too—along with at least four other shifters—growling,and snarling,and ready to fight.
She feels rather than sees Logan jumping out—the window—disappearing into the woods. She feels it in her heart—for she could never stand it when he was too far away. Twenty-two. This has gone on long enough, Clark says, staring down the crowd.
We’ve allowed this rogue wolf to live amongst us too long. But he doesn’t belong here. He attacked Willow,and harmed Kira— I say we hunt him down,and kill it—before he gets the chance to hurt anyone else. Kira watches the scene unfold in a stupor—maybe from the pain in her arm—or the absence of Logan by her side—she doesn’t know.
Voices boom in agreement. Fury taking over her packmates—one by one,they want blood. Logan—not realizing—the reason they’re in this state of violence is because it is what—the very thing they want dead—is feeling itself. Logan is still their Alpha.
Kira has been replacing him—but that doesn’t change the fact—and Logan isn’t himself. His curse has been taking its toll on everyone,and now it’s time to pay—the price in blood. Kira opens her mouth to protest—but her words get lost amongst the crowd. She doesn’t have a wolf—she cannot connect with everyone’s more primal side—not when it has been brought to the surface,to the point of being unhinged.
Stop! Willow says, rising to her feet. She has been crouched by Kira’s side—too scared,and shocked,after what had taken place—how her older sister had been hurt—to be transported into the same frenzy as everyone else. Somewhere in the back of her mind,her wolf is agitated,and wants out—but Willow is too shocked to let it.
It’s my fault—she exclaims—it’s all my fault. Don’t hurt Logan—he doesn’t know what he is doing. Murmurs,questions,and shock gasps echo all around them, but Kira pays it no mind—feeling—the loss of her mate down to her very soul. What are you talking about?
Clark growls,from somewhere beside Kira. The white wolf—Willow says—it’s Logan—it’s been Logan all along. What? Clark sounds incredulous.
I made a wish to the magician—after he rejected Kira—to curse him into this wolf form. It was a mistake—I shouldn’t have—but I was just trying to help. You mean—our Alpha has been stuck in his wolf form for a year now? Someone screeches.
Because that magician cursed him—someone else adds. Yes—but it can be fixed. We must make—the magician fix it. Clark growls—face impassive,but eyes going wild with an energy that sends pure dread down Kira’s spine.
Around them, the crowd cheers in agreement. No way—wait—Willow cuts in—that’s not— You shut your mouth, Clark growls,bearing his teeth at her. You’ve done enough. Once we deal with this curse—you’ll be lucky if you’re still allowed anywhere near this pack.
She was just trying to help, Kira interrupts in a weak voice—because she does believe Willow did have her best interest at heart—besides doing something very foolish. Clark’s eyes fall onto her,and for a moment—there,she thinks—he’s going to be reasonable. He’s used to working with her—he trusts her now—to lead. But then—she’s right—he exclaims—the kid was just a pawn—she doesn’t know any better—but someone has put a curse on our Alpha,and doomed this entire pack.
Are we going to let this go? A unified growl— No! —resounds amongst the pack. Please listen to me—Willow cries.
Forget about—the magician—he literally cannot break—the curse while he’s still alive. But he could—if he were dead. Clark cuts. Willow’s eyes go wide—upon realizing—the idea she just gave him.
That’s not what I— Clark seizes her by the arm. Let’s go—save our Alpha from his curse—he exclaims—who’s with me? Kira rises to her feet. He can’t say no—if someone makes a wish—Clark—she tries to argue—blaming him won’t— Clark waves a friend over—who grabs onto Kira’s arms.
If you’re not with us—you’re against us—Clark says, sounding nothing like himself—his eyes wanting blood. We’ll see you later. Lock these two up—and change all of you—we have a magician to take care of—he could—it would be dangerous. Kira,and Willow are locked inside—the pack house—with Joy—the only shifter in the pack who isn’t affected by the general insanity.
Everyone else shifts—and Kira can only watch in horror as they move out towards Grimswood—where the magician resides. Oh God—she exclaims—they’re going to kill him—they’re— Kira! Willow grabs onto her shoulders. Listen to me—there’s another way.
I’m going to tell you how to break—the curse—but you can’t tell Logan—he has to do it—of his own free will—otherwise it won’t work—you’ll need to convince him. What are you talking about? Kira says. Even if I wanted to tell him anything—he wouldn’t listen—you saw him earlier—he wasn’t himself.
You’re the only one who can bring him back, Willow says. I’ve made it so. Kira shakes her head in disbelief—she isn’t inclined to listen to her sister—a young child who she trusted to be wiser than this—but who’ made the terrible mistake of cursing her mate—keeping it a secret—and dooming all of their pack into a murderous frenzy. Listen—Willow says.
Kira doesn’t want to—but there’s no other choice. She meets her sister’s gaze—her little sister—her only family—who, at the end of the day—was always in her corner—despite her mistakes. All right—Kira says. Twenty-three.
I know something is wrong before I even see them. There’s a sense of dread that falls upon me—pressing down against my shoulders,and lower—until I feel like I cannot breathe properly. Danger is lurking. Death.
I don’t know how I know—but I do. I blink my eyes open—not daring to move—tempted to hide under my covers in a desperate attempt for safety—a reflex remnant of my childhood years. But I’m not a child anymore,and so I force myself out of bed,and peek outside my bedroom window. The sight I’m greeted with is more surreal than any nightmare I would have ever been plagued with.
There is a horde of wolves coming up our street—their bright golden eyes gleaming through—the early hours of the morning mist—tends to fall like heavy clouds upon the city during this time of year,and so amongst it—they seem like ghosts—unreal—though all the more threatening for it. I’m no fool,and I instantly understand—they’re coming for us. Adrien—I gasped,running downstairs. I don’t know if I’m looking to warn him,or for reassurance—probably a bit of both.
He’s standing by the front door of the shop when I get down—fully dressed—though hair a mess,as if he only just woken up. There are shifters who—I know—he interrupts,sending me a glance. He seems unbothered—which doesn’t make me feel better,exactly—but does give me a semblance of hope. Can you fix it?
I asked—thinking he might be able to cast a spell,to transport us far away from here,or something. They want to save their Alpha,Adrien replies—who can blame them,really—he smiles at me—it’s a kind smile—the likes of which I’ve never seen before. Adrien is never openly kind. I don’t like it.
The dread is nearly choking—all the air out of my lungs at this point. Adrien sees it,and frowns. Come here,he says. I don’t want to— I want to get as far away from this front door as I can—but for some reason,I do as he asks—maybe because of the softness in his gaze—which is making my mind go blank—or perhaps it’s magic,and I can’t resist him—I don’t know.
Adrien takes something out of his front pocket—a locket—he places it around my neck. For protection,he says—you’ll be fine—I swear it. I open my mouth to protest,but my words fall short,when I feel his lips graze my forehead. I realize—he’s never touched me before.
I don’t know how to feel about it. I’m still wondering—once he’s closed the front door behind him—leaving me alone inside—but then I forget—because he stays there,in front—waiting,with something like resolve on his face. Come back—I say—trying to open the door,to go,and get him—despite the looming danger. I can hear the wolves howling in the distance.
The door won’t budge. I pull,and pull, but it’s locked,and it doesn’t—seem magical—possibly. I call out Adrien’s name—but he ignores me. He’s locked me in.
He’s locked me in,so he can face the wolves alone. I call again—but his name comes out choked. The wolves are here—
Twenty-four. Kira runs through the woods,calling for Logan.
She isn’t a tracker. She doesn’t have a wolf,and she doesn’t even have her wits to fall back upon—her mind positively overwhelmed with terror. She’s wearing a red cloak,which is flying behind her. Red should attract attention,and possibly enhance Logan’s anger—which is precisely what she wants.
Despite the fear,she wants it. She runs,and runs,for what feels like ours. She can do that—at least run. She’s athletic,if anything—at least there’s that.
She doesn’t have much more than her lungs,and her love,and prayer. It will be enough—but she doesn’t know—what if he’s gone too far for her to reach? She doesn’t mean just physically—though it could be a possibility—that he’s gone far beyond pack territory—somewhere other wolves—or even humans—could hurt him. He isn’t thinking clearly,and he won’t try to keep hidden—if he feels threatened,he’ll attack.
But mostly,Kira is afraid she won’t be able to reach him mentally—his human self having retreated so far back behind the wolf,that he may very well be lost forever—and then she’ll be mated to a beast—and what will become of her? It doesn’t matter. She wants it—still—him. She’s always wanted him.
She feels him—his eyes on her,before she sees him. His presence is like an impending doom,and a shiver runs down her spine. She freezes. She waits.
She’s waited this long—she can wait for—more. The white wolf emerges from the trees,growling lowly. His eyes aren’t blue anymore—instead,shining bloodshot red—unnatural—monstrous. Logan’s gaze—or rather,the beast he becomes—meets Kira.
She holds it bravely,raising her chin in defiance. Then she slowly bares her neck to him—enticing him. The wolf tenses,and growls some more. He is like a beast trapped in a cage—the prison of his mind.
Kira’s heart is in her throat—she doesn’t dare to breathe. The wolf shifts—it’s only the barest of movements—but Kira thinks it’s enough. It will have to be. Come and get me—she says—and then she spins on her heels,and breaks into a run.
She runs,and runs,as fast as her feet will allow—not daring to check if Logan has taken chase. She can only pray now—it’s all she has left. She thinks she hears—the sound of his paws trailing after her—perhaps a growl—or a howl—even—but she can’t stop,and think—she can only move forward—until eventually,he catches her. I was worried he’d be stubborn about it—Willow had said—so I made sure—if, after some time,he still hadn’t broken—the curse—his wolf would take over,and do it instead—a sort of insurance policy.
Her sister’s insurance policy pounds Kira onto the ground—her face hitting—the damp floor brutally—pain swarming against her skull. The impact has her rolling onto herself,until she is lying on her back. Logan’s paws bracing her head,and his fangs bared,dangerously—inches from her face. The red of his eyes wants more—of the chase—and the violence—and the hurt.
It is the eye of a predator—and predators only do one thing to their prey. Kira closes her eyes,and slowly,ever so slowly,bares her neck to Logan again—submission,total,and complete. I’m yours—she thinks—make me yours. She feels Logan’s teeth pierce—the skin of her neck,and gasps—pain,and shock coursing through her.
This is rarely how it’s done—but it will do. Kira opens her eyes,and raises her hands to Logan’s back—the fur of it giving way to smooth human skin. Logan is still biting—the skin of Kira’s neck—but eventually,he lets go,meeting her gaze. His eyes are still red.
Kira—he growls,sounding unlike himself. I’m going to bite you back,now—she says—and then you’ll be mine—like I’m yours. Logan frowns—eyes still red—but a certain vulnerability crossing his features. We’ll be bonded—you and I—as we always should have been—Kira insists.
You don’t mean that—Logan says—you don’t understand what a fated bond is like. Yes, I do. I’ve met your mother. I know the risks—but I’ll have you anyway—if only you’ll have me back.
Logan closes his eyes,looking pained. You say this because you’re young,and I’m your Alpha,and when you were a child—I saved you. I love you—Kira says,grabbing onto his face. It’s infatuation—not love—Logan replies,hesitantly.
I’m so much older than you. You deserve a choice. I do deserve a choice—and I’m choosing you—Kira insists. This time,Logan’s eyes snap back open.
Do you choose me back? She asks,feeling like she can’t breathe. Slowly,the red of Logan’s eyes begins to recede,growing blue,and warm,and full of love,instead. He nods,smiling softly at Kira—who smiles right back—and then she bites brutally into his neck,making him moan.
Her mouth is full of his blood,when he claims it—like he’s finally claimed her. And Kira may not have a wolf,but she’s never felt more like one—for she rejoices in the taste of it. She may be destined to remain in human form,but she doesn’t feel fully human. When Logan,and her finally become one—in the heart of the forest—where it isn’t safe,and there is still so much to worry about—she doesn’t care for any of it—only for his hands on her—the press of his body against hers—and all the pleasure it amounts to.
She grabs at Logan’s hair,and bites into his skin,moving against him just as wildly as he does—and she thinks—maybe it’s fine—maybe she’s always been wolf enough for him,after all. Twenty-five. Adrien is lying on the ground—a gigantic wolf has tackled him down. He’s about to get killed.
The door still won’t budge,and so there’s nothing I can do but scream. He knew—it would happen—is the thing. He knew,and he went anyway. I’d love to tell myself it was to protect me—or for some noble—try at redemption—but it’s nothing of the sort.
The wolf is about to lash at his throat,and tear it apart,and there’s this look on Adrien’s face—but then,ther—wolf freezes. They all do—all the other ones,too—who’d been circling,the scene,growling,and eager for their turn at the kill—they all stop—muscles relaxing,and eyes growing more alert—almost human,even. One by one,they leave—save for the one who’d been on Adrien. He eventually comes inside—the shop—the door now wide open—and shifts back,to offer his apology.
I don’t know what came over us—he says,looking genuinely appalled—I apologize,really. Adrien shrugs,like all they did was step on his lawn—or something. It’s fine. It was because of the curse—it’s been lifted now.
The shifter—Clark,is his name—I come to know—departs,in his wolf form,head hung low in shame. Well—that was a close one,wasn’t it—Adrien jokes. When my reply doesn’t come,he turns to me,and meets my eyes. Do you want to go out for breakfast?
He tries—grimacing at his own words. I turn my back on him,and go lock myself up in my room—where I remain all day—thinking about that look of pure relief—that had been on his face—seconds before—the shifter was about to kill him—
Deog— You’re welcome—Willow says when Kira,and Logan come back to the pack house,hand-in-hand,looking disgustingly happy,and in love. Don’t push it—Kira replies. And then she and Logan disappear behind their bedroom door—and Willow doesn’t see them again for days.
She can’t complain,though—at least she hasn’t been kicked out of the pack yet—and,in fact,she doesn’t get kicked out at all. Their Alpha has returned,and he is now mated to Willow’s sister,making her officially his queen—and,really,they don’t come out,and say it—but if it weren’t for Willow,and her brilliant curse,Logan would have never claimed Kira. So—what did that magician take from you? Kira asks,eventually—when she’s more herself again—and by that,Willow means—when she doesn’t feel the impending need to glue herself to her mate’s side all day long.
Upon hearing Kira’s question,Willow’s face falls. She’d almost forgotten all about—the thing she loved most—but now that Kira has asked about it—the loss of it is making itself felt all over again. My piggy bank—Willow wails,unhappily—all my savings—gone. Kira’s jaw had positively fallen at that.
That’s it? A stupid piggy bank—that was the big thing he took? I had almost $40 saved up—Willow snaps,unhappily—I was going to get us tickets to Disneyland. Kira— she’s certain Logan will insist on getting Willow her tickets—and she’s already thinking of stopping him—for she doesn’t deserve it—after cursing him for more than a year,and almost dooming all their pack into full bestiality.
She does,however,feel the need to thank—the magician,in person—for something tells her—a piggy bank isn’t exactly traditional payment for granting such a wish. It symbolized her dream—of having a positive,normal family experience,with you—somewhere she felt happy,and safe. The magician—Adrian—tells Kira when she comes to visit him. It may seem silly,but it held a huge value to her.
It wasn’t what she loved most—I snapped from the back of the shop—and it made him sick for a month. Oh—I’m so sorry—Kira snaps her mouth shut,when I send her an icy glare. Thank you—she says instead,simply. Is there anything I can do?
Well—Adrien sighs—if you could make sure no one from your pack ever comes back around here—I’d be most grateful. The last time they were here,they really upset Iris—and I hate seeing her upset. Kira turns to me—probably with the intention to apologize—but Adrien stops her by raising his hand. Don’t talk to her—he warns,face growing cold—leave,now.
Kira does—though not without sending me a curious glance,tending towards apologetic. Not one of them will hurt you—or your friend—she whispers to me as she passes me by—I’ll see to it. I give her a curt nod. Honestly—it’s not really the wolves who’ve upset me—as Adrien calls it—though I do feel better at the prospect of never seeing anyone from this pack ever again.
I made you dinner—Adrien announces once Kira is gone. What about me—I snap. Adrien pretends he hasn’t heard me as he starts setting the table. What happens to me—if you die?
Did you think of it? I insist. Adrien keeps quiet for a while—he’s looking very focused at the life-and-death importance of his glass placement. It’s chicken piccata—your favorite—he says,eventually,quietly.
He doesn’t look sorry,exactly. I don’t think he regrets literally throwing himself to the wolves. It isn’t my favorite—I reply,before swiftly exiting—the shop. It’s a lie,though.
Chicken piccata was what my father always made me for my birthday. I’m pretty sure I’d never told Adrien that.
