Page 26 of Fated to the Lone Shifter (Curse of the Lunaris Alpha #1)

Chapter twenty-four

Alpha’s Descent

NOAH

I sit in Marcus’s dorm room, back against the wall, eyes locked on the rise and fall of his chest. He looks peaceful enough.

But I know better.

That stillness isn’t rest—it’s pre-transformation. The beginning of the end of his old life. And I’m the one who did this to him.

I don’t make the choice lightly. I don’t think I’ll ever stop feeling the weight of it.

But Marcus sees too much. Asks too many questions. Questions about Sera’s healing, her connection to the fires. About Tori. About me.

He’s gotten too close to truths that could burn us alive.

So I change him.

It should’ve been a choice. Something sacred. A pact between wolves. But this isn’t a storybook. This is survival. If I can’t trust him with our secrets, he becomes a threat.

Now he’s one of us, and our secrets are his secrets.

And maybe more than that—maybe he’s my only shot at protecting the woman I love.

I stand up, cross the room, and crack the window. Cool night air hits my face, but it doesn’t clear the fog in my chest. I sniff the air, reaching out for her.

Nothing.

No trace of Sera.

She still hasn’t come back.

My chest tightens with every passing second, a silent countdown ticking in my ribs.

I have to believe she’s okay. That Bode won’t hurt her. Not yet.

But that doesn’t mean she’ll be unharmed. I’m not stupid. I saw the way he looked at her—the possessive hunger. The calculated, territorial tension. I sensed it the moment they met. He doesn’t just want her for her beauty. He wants her magic. Her power. Her bloodline.

Her bond.

I grew up hearing old stories around campfires. My father used to whisper about alphas stealing mated partners. About fated magic twisted by power and blood. I never believed in that garbage.

Until now.

A groan from the bed pulls me out of my head. Marcus is awakening, sweat slicking his brow, body trembling. It’s begun—the slow, aching unraveling of who he used to be.

I pull the blanket up and sit beside him.

A knock sounds. I tense, but it’s just Jamie. She pokes her head in.

“Is Marcus okay? He missed dinner.”

I nod. “Too much to drink, I’m afraid. He’s out cold.”

She smirks knowingly and ducks out. Easy cover. Marcus’s party-boy rep still works in our favor.

When she’s gone, I lean close and whisper to him, “You better wake up sane, my friend. Because I’m going to need you.”

Being a lone wolf used to feel like freedom. No ties. No weakness. No curse. Just me and the mission. But now I see the truth—without a pack, I’m exposed. Vulnerable. There’s only so much one wolf can do before he’s outnumbered, outgunned, or outsmarted.

Sera’s life, our bond, the secrets we’re both carrying—they’re too big for one wolf to shoulder alone. If I want to protect her, if I want to survive what’s coming, I need more than claws and instincts. I need allies. Loyalty. Blood oaths. A pack of my own.

Because the war is coming—and lone wolves don’t survive wars.

Yet I’ve never had a stronger reason to survive.

Sera.

God, I want to run to her. My blood burns with the instinct to protect her, to find her, to kill whatever stands in her way. But I can’t leave Marcus like this. He needs someone to anchor him, or he might turn wild, out himself…or me.

It seems like forever, but it’s only been a few minutes. I don’t realize I’ve called her until I hear the line connect.

“Tori,” I rasp. “It’s bad.”

No hesitation. “Where are you?”

“Marcus’s dorm.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Just come. Hurry.”

“On my way.”

Tori moves like moonlight—quiet, deliberate, inevitable.

Noah's breath stills, his body instinctively easing as if her presence alone can bear the weight of everything he’s holding in.

She slips into the room without a sound, her medic’s bag slung over one shoulder and her long braid damp with night air.

Her eyes—silver threaded with green—flick immediately to Marcus, who’s trembling in the bed, skin slick with sweat and fever.

“Oh my God, Noah. Did you....?”

I nod like a guilty child. “I had no choice. He was on to all of us.”

She takes a deep breath and rummages in her medic bag. Always the pragmatist.

“I understand. It just scares me to think of Marcus on our side.”

I have to smirk at that, despite everything.

“I brought wolfsbane compresses,” she says, already unpacking. “It won’t stop the pre-transformation, but it will ease the shock.”

She crouches beside him, one hand hovering above his heart, the other brushing back his soaked hair. Magic hums in the space between them.

“I tried to slow it,” I say hoarsely. “But it’s happening fast.”

Tori nods, calm but focused. “You marked him in crisis. It accelerates everything.”

“I really had no choice.”

Her gaze flicks to me—gentle, not judging. “I believe you.”

That undoes something tight in my chest. Out of everyone in this firehouse, in this godforsaken town, Tori is the one person I don’t have to lie to.

Because she already knows.

Because she’s Fae.

Because she’s Sera’s cousin.

And because, even when I didn’t know it, she’s the one person who’s seen every side of me—the rage, the grief, the loneliness—and never flinched.

She dips a cloth into a carved bowl I didn’t see her pull out—a smooth onyx vessel etched with faint runes that catch the low light—and presses it to Marcus’s forehead.

The cloth smells faintly of crushed herbs and singed pine, the scent wrapping around the room like a protective ward.

She presses it to Marcus’s forehead. A faint shimmer curls off his skin where it touches—part steam, part spell.

“He’ll make it,” she says softly. “But he’s going to need you. Every hour. Every minute.”

“I know.”

I sink into the desk chair, arms resting on my knees, gaze fixed on the floor.

“I thought I could keep handling everything myself. No pack. No ties. No risks.”

Tori doesn’t respond right away. She just tends Marcus’s chest, murmuring something in a tongue I don’t recognize—Fae, probably. It sounds like water moving through roots.

“You’ve done a good job surviving alone,” she finally says. “But survival’s not enough anymore.”

I meet her eyes. “I feel it, Tori. I feel the walls closing in. Bode has her..”

She winces. This is news to her.

“I haven’t been able to read her all night. I thought maybe she was with the same people that took us earlier today.”

“No. Bode has her, and he wants to mark her.”

I grip the bedframe so hard the wood groans. “If I don’t act now, I’ll lose her. But I can’t just charge in. Not without a plan. Not without… help.”

“You’re starting to understand,” she says, but her calm is breaking down.

“Understand what?”

“That lone wolves die,” she says simply. “But packs endure.”

I stare at her. “I don’t have a pack.”

Her smile is soft. “Not yet. But you could. ”

She rises from the bed and moves to stand beside me. “Noah, you’ve always protected others like it was instinct. Like it was your purpose. That’s pack behavior. You just never let anyone protect you back.”

I laugh, bitter. “Didn’t know I was allowed.”

“How would you know? There was no one there to teach you. But you are allowed now. Because whether you meant to or not, you started something with Marcus. You created a bond. That’s not just biology—it’s spiritual. Elemental. Unbreakable.

She kneels in front of me, resting a cool hand over mine. “You need more. More anchors. More loyalty. More voices. But a pack isn’t built from dominance, from your need—it’s built from choice. And you have to let them choose you.”

I shake my head. “Whoever I bring in will be at risk. What if I lead them straight into Bode’s fire?”

“Then you face it together. That’s what pack means.”

Her voice is like a thread pulling me back from the brink.

“And what about the fact that I’m in love with a witch who might very well be marked by a rival alpha?”

Tori just lifts an eyebrow. “Sera’s a firestorm. She always has been. But she burns brightest with people who steady her fire—who ground her magic, not cage it. And I’ve felt it. You’re already her anchor, Noah. You just need to know that, whatever happens, she belongs to you…mark or no mark. . ”

Marcus cries out behind us, body jerking as the shift claws deeper.

Then I hear it.

A howl.

Low. Triumphant. Familiar.

Bode.

I grip the edge of the bed. My claws nearly punch through the mattress.

That sound…I know what it means. I know.

I look at Tori. She knows too.

The bond has been made.

He’s marked her.

My body goes cold. I’ve failed her.

And not just because I’m not there to protect her. I hesitate. I wait. I trust that she’ll be safe. I believe Bode might have some twisted sense of restraint.

I’m wrong.

In wolf clans, it’s not uncommon for a female to choose the stronger male. It’s written in the bones. Survival of the fittest. The strongest wolf gets the mate, gets the power, gets the legacy.

Growing up, I hear the snide comments about my mother. A strong alpha female who chose a kind-hearted beta. They mock her for it. Call her soft. Call her weak. They say she wastes her power.

But what I remember most isn’t weakness.

It’s love.

The way my mom and dad laugh together in the kitchen. The way he holds her hand like it’s the most precious thing in the world. The way he holds me when I cry.

Love is loyalty. Love is strength. Love is what I feel for Sera.

And Bode can never fake that.

Like Tori said, he can try to mark her. But he’ll never have her.

Not really.

I start pacing, jaw tight, fists clenched. My thoughts spin faster than I can hold onto.

Despite what Sera’s reports say, despite the colored maps and perfect alibis, I know the truth deep down.

Bode is behind the fires.

He has the money. The access. The connections.

And the motive.

He disappears the same year my parents are murdered. Their bodies burned beyond recognition in a fire too surgical, too deliberate. I always suspect it’s no accident.

Now I know.

Maybe they tried to stop him. Maybe they knew too much.

Maybe their love failed them.

And now he has Sera.

My fated mate.

My bond.

If he turns her…if he breaks her...

My wolf snarls inside me.

I can’t wait anymore. I can’t sit here, helpless, while history repeats itself. I have to do something. Anything.

I pick up my phone with shaking fingers.

No more hesitation.

No more lone wolf.

It’s time to burn everything down.

I make the call.