Page 75 of Bound to Exiles (Rejected Wolf Pack #5)

Zak stepped forward to shake his hand like a human or mage would. “What kind of information?”

The messenger glanced at me, then dropped his eyes, instantly knowing better than to offer to shake my hand.

Bretton was the one to answer, “Philipe is a beta who used to be part of the Nightsinger pack,” he explained. “I’ve known him for years. He’s reliable.”

“That was the pack my uncle Liam belonged to,” Freya said, her voice sharp with interest.

Philipe nodded. “Yes. Though I never had the honor of meeting you…”

He trailed off, clearly unsure how to delicately reference Freya’s painful past.

Freya nodded. “I understand. Ancient history now.”

Gage gestured toward a fallen log. “Let’s sit.”

Freya moved with fluid grace. Seeing her confidence filled me with pride. The uncertain woman who’d been unable to shift when I first met her was gone, replaced by someone who commanded respect without demanding it.

We arranged ourselves in a loose circle, with Philipe seated across from Freya.

He wisely avoided looking directly at her, probably to avoid pissing off all her alpha mates.

I positioned myself slightly behind her right shoulder, a protective stance that came naturally even in my two-legged form.

The arrangement had the feeling of a tribunal, ready to question the newcomer.

“Go ahead, Philipe,” Gage nodded at him to begin. “What news do you bring?”

The messenger straightened, his nervousness evident in the way he kept his hands clasped.

“As Bretton requested, I’ve been searching for information about your sister,” he said, addressing Freya directly but keeping his gaze on Gage out of respect for the wall of alphas flanking her. “I’ve confirmed she’s alive.”

Relief flooded through the bond from Freya, so strong it made my chest ache and my wolf whimper in response.

I’d known finding her sister mattered to Freya, but feeling the depth of her hope and fear through our connection made it real in a way that mere words couldn’t convey.

I placed a steadying hand on her shoulder.

My wolf wished for nothing but ease for our mate.

“Where is she?” Freya asked, her voice carefully controlled despite the storm of emotions I could sense beneath the surface.

Philipe’s expression grew grim, and I felt my stomach drop before he even spoke. “I know this is terrible news… There’s no easy way to say this, but I’ve confirmed she’s being held captive by the Denraider pack.”

The world narrowed to a pinpoint as memories I’d buried for over a decade came rushing back like a dam bursting…

The taste of blood in my mouth as they beat me, trying to draw out my wolf since I was fifteen and unable to shift.

The cold indifference in my parents’ eyes as they watched the pack enforcer use his alpha bark to cast me out.

The howls of the pack as they celebrated my exile, as though my worthlessness had been a stain they were finally free of.

Stumbling through the wildlands with nothing but the clothes on my back and the burning knowledge that no one would come looking for me.

The first time I’d killed another wolf — a violent rogue alpha — and the way his blood had tasted like victory. Survival.

My hands clenched into fists at my sides, nails digging into my palms hard enough to draw blood. A collective tension rippled through our group. Every word from Philipe’s mouth was like salt in wounds I’d thought had healed.

“From what I could gather, she was part of an old political deal, given to them as a child,” the messenger continued, oblivious to the rage I’d long since buried.

“Are you certain?” Heath asked, his politician’s mind probably already working through the implications. Denraider loved conquering smaller packs, forcing them to either submit or die. Even when they did submit, it usually meant death for their strongest alphas.

“Absolutely,” Philipe confirmed. “They treat her like an omega slave. She shifted late — at twenty-five — which to them only proved her inferiority. That’s how I knew she was an Odinswolf, like you.” He nodded respectfully to Freya.

My wolf snarled inside my chest, recognizing the familiar pattern. Denraider had always been quick to cast aside anyone they deemed weak or different. A late shift would have confirmed their belief that she was worthless, just like they’d believed about me.

“They kept her, even though she couldn’t shift?” I growled.

“It’s unusual. Keeping a shifter they would normally consider as weak and worthy of exile means they placed value on her for some other reason.” Philipe winced, then said, “She’s being treated as one of their slave conquests, even now.”

The thought made my vision tinge red. Freya’s sister had endured what I had, but hadn’t been given the chance of exile, of escape.

She would have been just a child when they took her, too young to understand why she’d been torn from everything she’d known and thrust into a world that would never accept her.

“Can we get her out?” Freya asked, her voice steady despite her strong emotions radiating through our bond.

Philipe shook his head, and I felt my last hope crumble. “Denraider’s territory is locked down tight. They’re aggressively recruiting rogue alphas, but no one else gets in or out. I couldn’t get close enough to determine exactly where they’re keeping her.”

“What do they want with rogue alphas?” Flint wondered.

“They only accept those willing to submit to their leadership. The ones they think they can control. They’re padding out their alpha numbers so they have the forces they need for another conquest.”

Not the most powerful rogues, I knew. They were considered too dangerous, too likely to challenge raiding party alphas at a crucial moment.

Someone of Gage or Heath’s level of dominance would never be recruited.

But an alpha of mine or Flint’s dominance?

We were exactly what they were looking for — alphas they thought they could control with promises of power, who could use their alpha bark to subjugate Denraider conquests, but weren’t dominant enough to challenge the existing Denraider pack hierarchy.

“Anything else we should know?” Zak asked.

“Only that Denraider is on the move.” Philipe outlined some of their defenses and new positions, but I barely heard him.

The rage that had been building in my chest crystallized into something cold and sharp.

I knew exactly how to get close enough. The question was whether I had the courage to walk back into the hell that had forged me.

But as I looked at Freya, saw the desperate hope in her eyes and felt her anguish through our bond, I knew there was no choice. I’d survived Denraider once. I could do it again.

“We need to discuss this privately,” Gage said, his alpha authority cutting through the tension like a blade. “Thank you for the information, Philipe. Bretton will see to your payment. Keep your distance, but report any movement or information about Freya’s sister.”

“I will,” Philipe agreed, and Bretton escorted him away, leaving us outside the cabin, near Frost Fang wolves who distributed rations they’d brought along. The morning air felt heavy with unspoken possibilities and the weight of decisions that could change everything.

“Inside,” Gage ordered, and we filed back into the cabin.

The moment the door closed behind us, I turned to face my packmates. The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them, driven by a certainty that burned in my chest.

“I’m going in. I’ll infiltrate Denraider as a rogue alpha willing to submit to their leadership.”

“No.” Freya’s response was immediate and fierce, her eyes flashing. “It’s too dangerous.”

“Rowan, think about this,” Heath said, his voice carefully reasonable in the way that meant he was trying to talk me down from something stupid.

“I know I walked into a trap set by my own father, but that was nothing compared to this. Denraider are brutal. They usually kill off the alphas of conquered packs, which means—”

“They would rather kill you off than recruit you,” Flint finished grimly, his usually calm demeanor cracked with worry. “You’re too proud to submit. Even Tor is trapped by their movements. If an Odinswolf with his abilities can’t navigate their territory, how can you expect to?”

I listened to their protests, each argument a dull blow against the iron certainty in my chest. They were right to be concerned.

Denraider was a death trap for anyone foolish enough to catch their attention.

The pack that had produced me was built on conquest and cruelty, and they’d only grown stronger in the years since my exile.

But they were missing the crucial piece of the puzzle — the one advantage that no one else could claim.

“Tor can’t risk it alone,” I agreed, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me. “But me?” I met each of their gazes in turn, letting them see the grim determination in my eyes. “If they’re recruiting rogue alphas, I can be exactly what they’re looking for.”

“Rowan—” Gage began, but I cut him off with a raised hand.

Before I could face Freya’s heartbreak or Gage’s irritation, I needed to put all my cards on the table. I hadn’t shared this part of my past with anyone, not even my mates.

“I have to be the one.” The words came out rougher than I intended, scraped raw by the truth I’d never shared with them. “I was born in that pack.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

I watched shock ripple through their eyes, felt their disbelief echo through the Bonded link.

In all the time we’d been together, through all the battles and intimate moments we’d shared, I’d never told them about my origins.

The shame of it had been too deep, and it had never seemed to be useful information that would matter.

But looking at Freya now, seeing the desperate hope in her eyes as she thought about her sister, I knew it was time to tear open old scars.