Three weeks after the full moon celebration, I was finally starting to feel like I belonged at The Nightshade. My combat skills were improving dramatically, Drake said I had natural fighting instincts that just needed refinement. My healing abilities were growing stronger too. Margaret had started letting me handle more complex injuries, and I found I could not only sense what was wrong but sometimes speed up the healing process with my touch.
"It's definitely a bloodline gift," Margaret confirmed after I healed a deep cut on a warrior's arm in half the normal time. "Silver Moon wolves were known for their healing abilities as well as their combat prowess. You're quite lucky."
Lucky. I supposed I was, in some ways. I was alive, safe, and surrounded by wolves who cared about me. Emma had become a true friend, always making me laugh and including me in activities. Jake treated me like a little sister, protective and teasing in equal measure. Even Drake, gruff as he was, had started showing what I thought might be approval.
And then there was Ezra.
We'd fallen into an easy friendship, if that's what you could call the strange connection between us. We ate meals together sometimes, talked about pack business and philosophy. He sought my opinion on things, which still surprised me. I was used to being invisible, and now an Alpha was asking what I thought about border patrol strategies and member disputes.
The recognition bond hummed between us constantly, a warm presence that felt comfortable rather than intrusive. We'll both stop trying to ignore it and just accept it as part of our dynamic.
On this particular morning, I was in the training yard working with Drake on advanced defensive techniques. He was pushing me harder than usual, his strikes coming faster and with more force.
"Stop thinking," he barked when I hesitated. "React!"
I blocked his next strike and countered with one of my own. He deflected it easily, but he nodded. "Better. Again."
We continued the drill, and I felt myself improving with each exchange. My body was getting stronger, my reflexes sharper. I was becoming the warrior I've never been allowed to be.
"Time," Drake called, stepping back. "Good session. You're ready to start sparring with the other warriors soon."
"Really?" I asked, surprised.
"Really. You've learned faster than anyone I've trained in years. Natural talent combined with actual dedication." He almost smiled. "Your family would be proud."
The words made my chest tight. I've never known my family, but I hoped he was right. I hoped they'd be proud of who I was becoming.
After training, I cleaned up and headed to the medical center. But before I got there, one of the border patrol wolves came running up, looking urgent.
"Where's Alpha Ezra?" he asked breathlessly.
"Probably in his office. What's wrong?"
"We've got visitors at the border. A delegation from another pack. They're asking for sanctuary."
My stomach dropped. Visitors could mean many things, and not all of them are good. "What pack?"
"Creek Stone," he said. "The messengers said it's urgent."
Creek Stone. That was Sarah and Thomas's pack. Why would they need sanctuary?
I found Ezra in his office with Beta Drake, both of them already being briefed by another patrol wolf.
"How many?" Ezra was asking.
"Twenty-three, Alpha. Mostly women and children, a few warriors. They look rough, like they've been traveling hard."
Ezra's jaw tightened. "Take Drake and assess the situation. I'll meet you at the border." He noticed me in the doorway. "Nessa. Come with me."
We hurried toward the pack's border, and I could feel tension radiating from Ezra. "What do you think happened?" I asked.
"Nothing good. Creek Stone is a stable pack with a decent Alpha. For them to show up asking for sanctuary, something catastrophic must have occurred."
When we reached the border, I saw the Creek Stone wolves gathered on the other side. They looked exhausted and frightened, their clothes dirty and torn. Children clung to their parents. Warriors stood protectively around the group, but they looked beaten down.
And there, in the middle of the group, I saw Sarah and Thomas. Sarah's arm was bandaged, and Thomas had a black eye. When they saw me, Sarah's face crumpled with relief.
"Nessa!" she called out. "Please, we need help."
Ezra gave the signal and his wolves allowed the Creek Stone group to cross the border. The moment they were on The Nightshade territory, several of them collapsed from exhaustion. Emma and the other healers rushed forward to help.
I went straight to Sarah, catching her as she stumbled. "What happened?"
"Rogues," she said, her voice shaking. "Dozens of them. They attacked our pack three days ago. We barely got out alive."
"Your Alpha?" Ezra asked, approaching us.
Thomas answered, his expression grim. "Dead. Most of our warriors are dead. These are the only ones who made it out." His voice broke. "They killed everyone who stayed to fight. Women, children, elders. They didn't care."
Horror washed over me. An entire pack, destroyed. "Why would rogues attack a whole pack?"
"They weren't just rogues," Sarah said, meeting my eyes. "They were organized, led by someone. And Nessa... they were asking about you. Specifically about a silver wolf traveling with two Creek Stone messengers."
My blood ran cold. "Victor."
"Who?" Thomas asked.
But Ezra understood immediately. "Get these wolves to the pack house," he ordered his warriors. "Food, water, medical attention. Drake, double the border patrols. If Victor Strand's rogues attacked Creek Stone looking for Nessa, they might come here next."
The Creek Stone survivors were escorted into Nightshade territory. Sarah grabbed my hand before she left. "I'm sorry. We didn't mean to lead them to you. We didn't know."
"It's not your fault," I said, even as guilt crushed my chest. "I'm so sorry about your pack."
After they left, Ezra pulled me aside, his expression serious. "Tell me everything about Victor Strand. Don't leave anything out."
So I told him the full story, about the Silver Moon massacre, about Victor finding me at Silverwood, about his hunt and the bounty on my head. I explained why he wanted me dead, how dangerous he was.
"He destroyed an entire pack just to find you," Ezra said, and I heard the anger in his voice. "That's not just hunting. That's genocide."
"I should leave," I said, the words tearing at my heart. "If I'm gone, he has no reason to come here. Your pack will be safe."
"Absolutely not." Ezra's voice was firm. "Running won't solve this. Victor won't stop just because you're not here. He'll keep destroying packs, keep killing innocents. The only way to end this is to face him."
"Face him? Ezra, you don't understand how powerful he is. He has dozens of rogues, maybe hundreds. He's been planning and building his forces for twenty years."
"Then we need to be smarter than him." Ezra started pacing, his Alpha authority radiating from him. "We need allies, information, and a strategy. We need to turn his hunt into our trap."
"That's insane," I said. "You'd risk your entire pack for me?"
"I risk my pack to stop a monster who's terrorizing our kind." He stopped pacing and looked at me intently. "But yes, Nessa. I also risk it for you. You're pack now. We don't abandon our own."
His words made my chest ache. This was what loyalty felt like. What protection felt like. Everything I'd never had at Silverwood.
"What's the plan?" I asked.