Page 7

H azel

The streets of Broadstone are alive tonight, the hum of laughter and conversation spilling out from the tightly packed rows of shops, pubs, and apartments.

The air is heavy with the scent of fried food and beer and the faint metallic tang of magic lingering from the wards that keep this neutral city safe from territorial disputes.

Two years. Two long years since I left Nightclaw behind.

Ayana and I crossed into neutral territory with nothing but the clothes on our backs and the weight of betrayal pressing against my chest. I couldn’t stop thinking about Mother—the cruelty she must have been experiencing from Magnus because of me.

And knowing Elara, she would stand by me till the very end.

I had told her of my plans, of how I couldn't stand another day in the pack, the hate, the pain. It was all too much. She told me to go. She warned me never to come back. I know my father’s disappointment will be even worse.

I could not hold myself in respect as a warrior, and now I absconded as an Omega.

But he said it himself. As far as he is concerned, he doesn’t have a daughter.

Turning back was no longer an option. Magnus’ frozen heart will ensure that I pay with my life.

The seal ordered by Alpha Jag hasn’t broken, though it’s weakened enough that I can shift partially now, but I can’t access the speedy healing my wolf would have granted me.

It’s not the same, but it’s something. Resentment builds in my chest. I never got to shift before my wolf was sealed.

And now, I may never feel the true freedom of having my wolf.

I glance down at my hands as I wipe down the bar. The faint ache in my knuckles is a reminder of how close we came to getting caught that night. One of the guards almost had us, but Ayana’s quick thinking and my stubborn refusal to fail pulled us through.

“Earth to Hazel,” Ayana’s voice cuts through my thoughts. She leans against the bar, her curly hair wild and her sharp eyes scanning the crowd behind me. “You’re zoning out again.”

“Just tired,” I say, giving her a small smile.

She snorts. “You’ve been tired since we got here. Maybe it’s time you get some sleep instead of staying up all night brooding.”

“I don’t brood,” I protest, though I know it’s a lie.

Ayana shakes her head and looks at me like a grandma would. “Look, we made it out. We’re here. Alive. That has to count for something, right?”

I nod, but the truth is, I’m not sure what “alive” is supposed to feel like anymore.

Broadstone is a strange place, a city where rank doesn’t matter, where packs dissolve into a loose collection of individuals just trying to survive.

It’s messy and chaotic, but there’s a kind of freedom here I never thought I’d know.

Yet, it still feels like I’m fighting for my life daily, doing menial jobs.

Working at this bar has saved me from knocking door to door asking to clean houses.

It also finally afforded Ayana and me an apartment.

Our apartment is small—a single room with a lumpy mattress on the floor, a rickety table, and a stove that barely works. But it’s ours, and that’s more than I can say for the life I left behind.

I work most nights at The Broken Antler, a run-down pub on the edge of the market district. The hours are long, the customers rowdy, and the pay just enough to scrape by, but I don’t mind. It keeps my hands busy and my mind distracted.

Most nights are uneventful. I pour drinks, clean spills, and occasionally break up a fight or two when tempers flare. But tonight, the air feels heavier, and I feel my wolf bristle.

I’m wiping down a table near the back when Eldon walks in.

He’s the infamous leader of a rogue pack that’s made a name for itself here in Broadstone. His reputation is as sharp as the grin he wears, dangerous and impossible to ignore.

“Hazel,” he drawls, his voice smooth and low.

I stiffen, my grip tightening on the rag in my hand. “What do you want, Eldon?”

He smirks, leaning against the edge of the table. His dark eyes roam over me, lingering in a way that makes my skin crawl. “You know what I want.”

“Not interested,” I say, turning away from him. He can never charm me the way Kieran’s smile did. It makes me wonder if I’ll ever open up to another male. Whether I’m doomed to be the rejected Mate all my life and suffer the pain of our frayed bond forever.

Eldon catches my wrist, his grip firm but not bruising. Yet. “Come on, sweetheart. Don’t be like that. You’ve got fire, and I like fire.”

My wolf stirs at his touch. Pure, unfiltered rage simmers just beneath the surface.

I pull my hand free, baring my teeth, my fangs starting to lengthen. “Touch me again, and you’ll regret it.”

Eldon laughs, a low, throaty sound that sends a chill down my spine. “Feisty. I like that.”

His words ignite something in me, and before I can think, my claws extend, my hand swiping out in a sharp arc.

The moment my claws graze his cheek, his laughter stops. Blood beads along the shallow scratches, but instead of anger, his eyes darken with something far worse—pleasure.

“You’ve got bite,” he murmurs, touching his cheek. “I like you even more now. I want to see that in the bedroom soon.”

My stomach churns as I step back, my wolf growling low in my chest. “Stay away from me, Eldon. I’m not yours, and I never will be. ”

For a moment, his grin falters, something dangerous flashing in his eyes.

But then it’s back, sharp and predatory.

“We’ll see about that,” he says, his voice soft, but heavy with promise.

He’s not going to stop coming for me. I have to be ready.

Eldon is a dangerous man, and with the pack of rogues he has under his command, it’s going to be herculean to avoid him and his antics.

The attack happens a week later.

I’m on my way home from work, the streets quieter than usual under the faint glow of the moon. The hairs on the back of my neck prickle as I step into the alley that leads to our apartment, the scent of rogues hitting me like a warning bell.

Eldon’s men.

They step out of the shadows, three of them, their eyes gleaming with malicious intent.

“Eldon doesn’t take rejection well,” one of them says, his voice dripping with mockery.

My wolf snarls, her presence flaring as I take a step back. “Then he should’ve learned by now.”

They lunge.

The fight is brutal, my body moving on instinct as I duck and weave, my claws flashing in the dim light.

They’re bigger, stronger, but I’m faster.

Smarter. Being the Gamma’s only child all my life meant I had to be as strong as every other warrior in the pack.

And that hasn’t changed just because I’m now packless.

Blood splatters the pavement, my heart pounding as I dodge another swing. My muscles burn, but I don’t stop, don’t falter. I can’t afford to.

When I finally break free, my lungs heave as I sprint through the maze of streets, their shouts fading behind me. My wolf pushes me forward in the ways she is able to beyond the seal, her rage and desperation fueling my steps until I’m far enough away to collapse against a wall, my chest heaving.

I’m still a warrior—still a wolf. I’ll never yield to another again.

I hurry back to my apartment and into the kitchen, pulling out the medicine kit.

I tend to my wounds, one injury at a time.

Some of the new ones were over my old scratches.

Wounds that my wolf’s energy would have healed, but it couldn't because of Magnus’ abominable seal.

I grit my teeth against the sting of the dabs and cover them with gauze where it’s needed.

I take a cap of painkillers. This should be good for now.

I stay indoors the rest of the night, worried that Ayana is not yet home.

Ayana bursts through the door of our apartment the next morning, her face pale and her curls wild, some locks of hair sticking to her face with sweat. “They came for me.”

I’m on my feet in an instant, my pulse spiking. “Are you hurt? I swear to Goddess if they laid their hands on you…”

She shakes her head, but her hands tremble as she grips the edge of the table. “I got away. But they sent a message.”

My stomach twists as she looks up at me, her eyes dark with fear.

“Eldon says he’ll have you, one way or another.

” I did not sever my connection to my pack just to be used like a whore by a vagabond rogue like Eldon.

Attacking me and my best friend is not the way to get to me, and I'm not going to play stupid power games. Not anymore.

My wolf growls, her anger surging to the surface. My chest tightens, but I force myself to breathe, to stay calm.

Just when I thought I could finally have a life, it all seems like it will be swept out from under me. But I’m not giving up just because he can’t keep his cock in his pants.

The low hum of chatter fills the air, blending with the faint clink of glasses and the occasional burst of laughter.

The Broken Antler is alive tonight, filled with a mix of rogue wolves, humans, and others who prefer the anonymity Broadstone offers.

The air smells of stale beer and too many bodies packed into a small space.

There’s a man sitting at the bar, leaning just close enough to make his presence known without crowding me. He’s been watching me. He’s not a new face around here. I’ve seen him once or twice. His blond curls and soft brown eyes are nothing but charming. I know the way girls and women look at him.

“Hazel.” My name sounds like the sweetest endearment on his tongue. “How long have you been working here, beautiful?”

His name is Lucas—or at least that’s what I’ve heard people call him. He’s sweet in that easy, low-effort way that usually makes me roll my eyes. But tonight, I find myself smiling, drawn in by the softness in his tone, the warmth in his brown eyes.

“Less than a year.” I set a fresh drink in front of him. “It’s not glamorous, but it pays the bills.”