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SONYA

M oonlight poured through the fractured canopy above the pack clearing, silvering the earth like frost, but Sonya felt none of its beauty tonight.

Her boots scraped over gravel as she climbed the narrow path toward the council den, every step heavier than the last.

She hadn’t been summoned like this since the night her brother got banished.

That time, she’d stood tall.

Tonight? Her spine still held, but the tension was coiled tight in her gut, and she could taste the metallic weight of anxiety on her tongue.

At the top of the path stood Roman’s den—an angular construction of stone and timber nestled into the side of the ridge.

Overgrown roots wrapped around it like skeletal fingers, and the massive wooden doors stood open, yawning wide like some beast inviting her in.

It was deep in the forest, where he held his meetings, but most of their housing was closer to town, but still butted up against the thick trees and forest of Oregon.

But here, in the Council Den, anything went so it had to be far out from where others could hear.

Where they could run free under the moon and do what packs do.

She adjusted the hood of her slate-gray jacket, its woolen collar brushing against the back of her neck like a warning.

Her white-blond hair slipped out, catching the light and glowing faintly.

She stuffed it back with a hiss.

“Come in, Sonya,” Roman’s voice called from inside—deep, smooth, and predatory.

Of course he knew she was here.

He always knew.

She stepped in.

The den smelled like cedarwood, blood, and whiskey.

A fire cracked low in the hearth.

Roman stood with his back to her, dark hair falling like sharp blades around his chiseled jawline.

He didn’t turn right away, because Roman never rushed for anyone.

Power dripped off him in every movement—like he knew exactly how far to push and when to lean in.

“Sit,” he said finally, gesturing to the low leather bench near the fire.

“You look tense.”

“I’m fine,” Sonya replied, sitting but staying on edge.

Her gaze swept the room—stone walls lined with runes, a map of claimed territories pinned behind his desk, and shelves stacked with old tomes and decanters of dark liquor.

No one else was here.

That wasn’t comforting.

Roman turned, slowly, eyes like coals locked onto hers.

“I’ve got something... important for you. Special.”

That word—special—never meant anything good when it came out of Roman’s mouth.

She learned that even before he had become alpha.

But now, in her 22 years, she knew all too well.

She narrowed her eyes.

“You didn’t drag me here after midnight for flattery.”

He chuckled, walking over and pouring himself a drink.

He didn’t offer her one.

“You’re sharp as ever, snow-wolf. That’s what I like about you. But you’re right. I need you for something bigger than patrol shifts and diplomatic smiles.”

“I’m not a spy, Roman.”

“You are when I say you are,” he said, coolly.

“Just like you’ve been trained in fighting, combat, espionage, everything. You are what the pack needs you to be. What I need you to be. And right now, it’s a spy.”

He holds her stern gaze for a moment forcing her to look down and submit to his law.

“We’ve found him.”

Her stomach dipped.

“Found who?”

Roman smirked, that damn crooked thing he did when he thought he was the smartest person in the room.

“The human boy. Landon Graves. Lives just outside pack territory. No pack ties. No shifter connections. But he’s got blood.”

Sonya blinked.

“You’re saying he’s...?”

“Dormant,” Roman confirmed.

“But the bloodline’s legit. His great-grandfather was a rogue from the old southern line—directly tied to the Lycan line we lost track of before the Rift. That makes him ours. And the prophecy...”

“...says the dormant king will awaken when the blood moon returns,” she finished, cold dread pooling in her chest. “That doesn’t make him ours. It makes him in danger.”

Roman’s eyes darkened.

“Exactly. Which is why we need to control the situation—before someone else does.”

Sonya crossed her arms. “You want me to get close to him.”

“I want you to observe him,” Roman said, voice dropping to something velvety and low.

“Charm him, if necessary. Make sure he doesn’t run. Make sure no one else realizes what he is before we decide what to do.”

“And what exactly is your plan if he does turn out to be the one?” she asked, jaw clenched.

“Bow down and hand him the alpha title?”

Roman’s laugh was sharp.

“Please. We both know I was born to lead. He’ll be a figurehead. Useful, maybe. Or maybe he’ll die under the moon and we’ll get the power anyway.”

“That’s not how it works,” she snapped.

He moved closer. “You questioning me now?”

Sonya stared at him, ice-blue eyes unflinching.

“No. I’m questioning your morals.”

He didn’t take kindly to that.

Roman moved in until his shadow swallowed her whole, towering, broad-shouldered, thick with muscle and menace.

“Careful, Sonya. You’re too valuable to waste. But not too valuable to break.”

She didn’t flinch.

“You can break my bones, Roman. Not my spine.”

Something passed through his expression—approval?

Amusement? Hunger?

“You always were a little wolf with a big bite,” he murmured.

“Maybe that’s why I’ve kept you so close all these years.”

She stepped back.

“Don’t.”

“What?” he said softly.

“Don’t remind you that one day, when you’re ready, you’ll stand beside me as Luna?”

“That day will never come.”

“You’ll see,” Roman said.

“You’ll realize that loyalty isn’t a cage. It’s purpose. I’ve only let you go so long to show you my kindness. But don’t let yourself get much older and spoil. We’ll need a line of legacy, you know.”

Sonya shook her head.

Her voice dropped to a whisper, ignoring the last part of his statement.

“Loyalty is earned. Not demanded.”

A tense silence fell.

Roman turned back to his desk.

“You leave for the city tomorrow. He works at a café off Juniper. He volunteers at the wildlife shelter on weekends. Your file’s already prepared.”

“So I don’t get a choice.”

Roman’s lips curled.

“You never did.”

Sonya stood slowly, heart hammering.

“Fine. I’ll do it. But you’d better hope the prophecy is wrong. Because if that boy is what you think he is... you won’t be able to control him.”

She walked out before he could reply.

Outside, the wind bit through her coat, but she barely noticed.

She stood on the ridge, staring down at the glowing haze of the town far below.

Somewhere in that web of lights was a boy who didn’t know his bloodline could shake the foundations of everything she’d ever been taught to believe in.

She knew that she shouldn’t question or sass her alpha, but she hated Roman.

And he let her get away with it only because he thought he had some sick claim on her.

And unfortunately, he wasn’t wrong.

She knew she was supposed to trap this person for him.

But all she could think about.

.. was how to keep him safe.