Page 23

23

LANDON

S onya had met him back at his cabin that evening.

He had called her after Roman had left and when she arrived, she was distant and off.

“Are you alright?” Landon asked as she sat down without so much as a look at him on his couch.

“No.”

“Was it Roman?”

She looked up and he could see the hurt there in her dangerous eyes.

“He branded me, Landon.”

Anger flared in Landon’s chest. “He what?”

“He branded me a traitor. I’m in exile and my family is… is being watched, but that doesn't matter because they essentially disowned me for choosing my own life over Roman’s rule.”

He could see she was trying to hold it together. Landon didn’t understand pack laws or anything, but he knew enough to know they were a close knit unit. And benign not only thrown out of the pack, but her family was something any regular person would have a hard time with. Especially a shifter.

He sat down beside her, unsure of what to say.

“I’m not sure why he let me walk away. Maybe to live with the shame, I don’t really know,” she continued, staring into the fireplace.

Landon reached for her hand. “Sonya, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause–”

She turned to him suddenly. “You didn’t cause anything. This is his doing. All of their own doing. This was an issue long before he sent me on this fool’s errand.” Sonya bit her lip and Landon felt for her. He had never seen her look so vulnerable. So… lost.

Before he could pull her in or say anything else, Sonya cleared her throat. “Enough about Roman and his stupid ass threats. Did you find anything useful at your aunt’s?”

Landon, though still trying to understand not only why Roman let her go, though he was happy he did, but how Sonya was not falling apart right now, took her lead to change the subject.

“Actually, I did find something here.” He almost mentioned that was before Roman stopped by, but he thought better of it after the day she had herself. He didn’t want to add anymore to her plate.

The old leather-bound book creaked as Landon laid it flat on the table between them, the spine long since worn, the wolf symbol on the cover barely more than a ghost now. A dusting of faded newspaper clippings, corners curled and fragile, rested beside it. A few black-and-white photographs, faces time had almost erased, fluttered in the breeze from the cracked window. Sonya sat across from him, knees tucked to her chest on the worn couch, eyes tracking every move he made like this was some kind of sacred ritual. Maybe it was.

“You said you found all this… under the floor?” she asked, voice low, cautious, like she didn’t want to disturb the weight hanging between them.

“Yeah,” Landon nodded, brushing a layer of dust off one of the pictures. “In a tin box nailed between the beams. I don’t know what I was even lookin’ for. I just… I felt like there was something there.”

Sonya leaned forward, strands of her pale hair falling into her eyes. She pushed them back, fingers trembling slightly. “And this?” She tapped the cover of the book.

Landon swallowed, watching the light from the fireplace dance across her face. “That was with it all as well. It’s got old blood on the pages. Like, actual blood. Dried.”

Her expression didn’t shift, but he saw it in her eyes—recognition. Fear, maybe. Or reverence.

“You think it’s his?” she whispered.

Landon met her gaze. “If my aunt was right… then yeah. The Lycan king. My ancestor.”

The silence that followed cracked like ice beneath the surface. Sonya looked away first, blinking too fast. “This changes everything.”

“No shit,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair, eyes drawn to the fire. “It’s all starting to make sense. Why Roman hates me. Why your pack’s scared. Why I feel like I’ve got a storm under my skin, all the time now.”

She reached out, laying a hand over his. Her skin was cool, calming. “You’ve changed,” she said softly. “You’re stronger than you were. And honestly,” she smiled, “I think Roman’s more scared than he’s letting on.”

That made Landon smile too for a moment. He took a breath. “Feels like something’s waking up,” he admitted. “Like it was always there, just waitin’ for the right time.”

Sonya’s lips parted to speak—but the sharp crack of glass shattered the moment.

Landon was on his feet in a heartbeat, pulling Sonya behind him as a second window burst inward, shards spraying across the floor. Smoke, thick and chemical-laced, hissed into the room.

“Back door!” he barked, dragging her toward the rear of the cabin.

She hesitated, sniffed the air. “That’s not Roman.”

“I know,” Landon growled, adrenaline pounding through his veins like wildfire.

The moment they hit the back porch, figures emerged from the trees—shadows with weapons, all black uniforms and glowing silver glyphs stitched into their sleeves.

“Gideon’s Torch,” Sonya said, eyes wide. “Hunters.”

“What are they doing here? I’ve only read about them.”

“They found you,” Sonya muttered. “One of the pack must have leaked it after today. Hell.”

“Roman?” Landon asked, hissing between his teeth.

One of the men raised a taser rifle. “On the ground! Both of you! Now!”

Landon didn’t think. He moved.

A pulse tore through him, like someone had flipped a switch deep inside his chest. His bones ached, tendons straining with something primal. His vision tinted gold around the edges, like fire licking at the edges of his mind.

The rifle fired. Time slowed.

Landon sidestepped— fast . Too fast. The dart whizzed past his cheek, and he was already closing the distance between him and the hunter before the man could reload.

He grabbed the barrel and ripped it from the guy’s hands, tossing it into the brush. “Wrong house, asshole.”

A second hunter lunged, blade drawn, silver glinting. Sonya met him halfway, her eyes glowing, claws unsheathed in a flash. She slammed him into the side of the cabin with a snarl, her wolf just beneath the surface.

Three more came from the treeline.

Landon didn’t wait.

He let the storm take him.

The ground cracked beneath his bare feet as he charged, his body stronger, faster than it had any right to be. He hit the first man square in the chest, sending him flying into a tree with a sickening thud. The next one tried to dodge, but Landon caught his arm mid-swing and twisted until bone snapped like a twig. He didn’t flinch.

“Landon!” Sonya shouted.

He turned—just in time to see a hunter raise a flame grenade. His instincts screamed. He threw out a hand and roared.

The grenade exploded midair—but not with fire.

With light.

A shockwave burst from his body, golden and fierce, knocking every hunter off their feet. Trees shook. Smoke evaporated. The earth itself seemed to breathe.

Sonya stood frozen, eyes wide, lips parted. “You…”

Landon looked down at his hands, glowing faintly gold. His chest heaved with effort, but he didn’t feel tired.

He felt alive.

The hunters scrambled, some limping back into the woods, dragging their wounded. One yelled something into a comm device, but Landon didn’t hear. He was walking toward Sonya, slow, deliberate.

“You okay?” he asked.

She nodded mutely, staring at him like she didn’t recognize the man standing in front of her.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, voice low. “I just… I couldn’t let them hurt you. I don’t know what happened.”

She stepped forward, touching his face, her hand warm now. “You didn’t scare me,” she whispered. “You protected me.”

He leaned into her touch, letting his forehead rest against hers. “I’m not sure what’s happening to me, but I know one thing…”

“What?” she breathed.

“I won’t run from it. Not anymore. Whatever this is, whoever I am—I’m not hiding.”

Her arms wrapped around him, grounding him. “Then neither will I. I’ll help anyway that I can.”

Landon held her close, the firelight flickering in the broken window behind them. Holding her, and after everything, he didn’t feel like the scared boy he once was.

He felt like something else entirely.

Something powerful.

Something alpha.