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She didn’t move. Didn’t blink.

My hands curled into fists, my jaw tightening again. I wanted to tell her that I had done what I thought was best. That leaving her behind had been the only way to keep her safe. But she wasn’t a child anymore. And I wasn’t the man she had known back then.

So instead, I just licked my lips and kept my voice even. “And now you’re here.”

Her eyes drilled into mine. “And now I’m here. Asking for your help.”

I didn’t move.

Neither did she.

The tension between us was thick, electric, everything unspoken crackling in the air, stretching tight. The fire in the hearth popped behind her as embers rose up into the air, highlighting the strength in her features.

She had survived without me. Had built a life out of nothing. Had bled, fought, and crawled her way through hell while I sat in these mountains, wondering if she had died.

Yet,she was here. Fate had brought her back to me. The question was—what the hell was I supposed to do with that?

Before I could decide, the world exploded.

A thunderousboomrocked the cabin, rattling the windows in their frames. A half-second later, a chorus of howls split the night.

Then came the gunfire.

Lia spun toward the sound even as I lunged for the door, flinging it open. The freezing air hit me like a slap to the face, dense with the scent of sweat and blood.

The camp was in chaos.

Dark shapes moved through the trees, swift and deadly, striking with precision.

And they weren’t mine.

I knew my pack; I knew the way my wolves moved, how they fought, how they scented. The ones slipping through the tree line now weren’t just unfamiliar, they were wrong. Their movements were too coordinated, too precise, not the chaotic, blood-hungry swipes of desperate rogues or scavengers looking for easy kills.

No, these wolves had training.

Their bodies were sleek and powerful, larger than most natural-born shifters. Their fur was darker, almost unnatural in the moonlight, blending seamlessly with the shadows between the trees. They flowed through the battlefield like ghosts, their strikes measured and devastating, each movement calculated.

Elite. Disciplined.

Fuckingsoldiers.

The kind trained to take down anything in their path.

A deep, guttural snarl ripped through the night as Jax shifted mid-stride, his clothes shredding from his body as he lunged at one of them. More of my wolves followed suit, their bodies warping and twisting, fur bursting along their limbs as they gave themselves over to the fight.

A volley of gunfire erupted from the eastern ridge, cutting through the chaos. The humans were holding the line, their resistance fighters already pushing forward.

At the center of them strode Sorin.

The human commander stood tall, her long coat whipping around her as she fired shot after shot with brutal efficiency. She shouted orders over the fray, her people moving in sync, covering each other’s backs as the battle raged.

My gut twisted. If this was an attack—not just a raid or some stray skirmish—then it meant one thing.

My camp, my safe haven, had been found.

A flash of movement at my side.Lia.

She was already dressed and moving, shoving past me before I could grab her.