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I t’s happening faster than I can think: Noah leaps, shifting into an enormous, snarling black wolf mid-air, forcing wolves to lean away as they prepare to run. Meanwhile, the loaded barrel in the bushes raises, millimeter by millimeter, lighting my insides on fire.

I stop thinking. My wolf takes over, and she moves .

One breath, I’m standing in petrified horror. The next, I’m all fur and teeth, tackling Noah to the ground. A bang sounds off before I can register it, striking hot, acidic fear into my heart.

But we’re unharmed.

I trust Noah to get back up and defend himself from Mason. If we all want to live, I’m forced to set aside his well-being for now; I’ve locked eyes with the gunman. A chill digs beneath my fur at the merciless disgust in his eyes.

He’s furious. I’ve warned everyone of his vile intentions, creating a stampede of wolves bolting across the field, and moving targets limit his ability to aim.

So I take to the shadows. Leaping to my paws, I cut across the field into the brush. As more shots are fired, it’s clear there are multiple gunmen along the forest’s edge. Chaos unfolds, the Super Pack peeling back from the firing zone as our wolves scramble. Fear crisscrosses with anger in my chest, tightening my jaw as I keep low to the ground at the sound of Noah’s barking commands on the field.

When Noah charges in—his brutal smack across Mason’s chest spilling the first blood—it isn’t logical for the Super Pack to waste their time tracking me as I disappear deeper into the forest.

Or so they think. I silence my paws, weaving through the forest with eyes on my target: the first gunman I saw, rising to his feet for a better view. He and his friends create so much intentional distress—chuckling as they watch us scurry—that they don’t think to search for hunters on their trail. Making a wide arc, I come at him sideways, silent as I fly through the brush.

He doesn’t have a chance to pull the trigger again.

My jaws come down on bone, a vicious crunch twitching my ears. Spitting the Alpha’s sour blood to the dirt, I don’t stop when I hear him screaming behind me; I’m already burying his friend into the brush with me, crushing his trigger arm too.

Noah, six gunmen were hidden at the edge of the forest. There are four more; I already took down two. Someone still needs to confiscate their weapons, I mindlink.

I feel Noah’s panic in our bond, but I’m grateful for it—it means he’s alive, likely having to fight off the Alpha-domination wolves who stayed to fight in wolf-to-wolf combat, as we originally expected.

Meanwhile, I’m now a major target. Not two, but three gunmen scream at the top of their lungs, rolling on the forest floor.

I thought I’d be disgusted with myself for hurting them, but I’m too horrified by their actions to process my own yet: they reek of Alpha pheromones, boasting of their “innate strength.” And yet, they know they can’t defeat Noah face to face, so the cowards tried to shoot him to death. They almost did.

My guts twist at the thought, forcing me to the ground. I rub my white fur in the mud, shimmying to camouflage myself in the shadows as I catch my breath. Pausing allows me to track them closer, my ears rotating every which way to focus in on their conversation between picking up on every thrashing wolf on the field. As far as I can hear and smell, my count is still accurate: three reeking gunmen remain. They yell at one another in an attempt to find me, but it’s more like slinging insults for not being Alpha enough to shoot an Omega. Their volume allows me to move faster, not having to put as much emphasis into keeping my shaky paws silent.

“Where is that bitch?” The man closest to me snarls beneath his breath, showing me his back.

It’s too late for him. When he finally spots me, turning over his shoulder, my snout parts the bushes behind him. In two nibbles, I’ve ruined his ability to shoot too.

Noah meets my eyes across the forest—just as three more sneaky Lycans on our side burst from the brush beside me, teaming up to take down the remaining gunmen. Johannes dashes in to gather the weapons, bolting as fast as he can back to the lodge. With all guns officially out of sight, my jaw loosens, allowing me to pant in relief.

When all gunfire and human yelling stop, only the sound of snarling and yelping wolves remains.

Shifted Lycans immerse themselves deep into the woods with us, and the game of hunt changes; now we’re on an equal playing field.

I’m supposed to protect our Lunas, but now that the immediate danger has left, an adrenaline crash hits. With paws as heavy as my whole body, I’m forced to quiver in the brush, huffing with my tongue out as I recover my energy.

And my eyes don’t want to leave my mate yet. Noah throws himself at Mason, over and over again, with deep, wet snarls. Except it’s not just Mason he’s attacking; he’s having to juggle fending off Mason on top of multiple other Alphas—all targeting him, specifically. Our allies join his side, and for a moment, I freeze, stunned by my mate spilling more blood, his claws gashing every wolf’s pelt who dares approach.

Violence unfolds unlike anything I've seen before, new injuries and clashes spinning my head every second. Thankfully, top leaders on our side are doing their jobs of keeping the focus off the Lunas who can’t fight—who have hopefully entered the lodge by now.

But as I shake my coat free of leaves and debris, ready to jump back in to help, a prowling wolf catches my eye. Rather than entering the fight in the forest, he’s exiting the brush—replacing one paw after another with his eyes locked onto a horde of wolves nearest the lodge.

My heart drops. Are those the Lunas who can’t fight? Why are they still outside?

The attacker Alpha sneaks back onto the field, his snout trained onto the scared wolves behind Annika, Waimārie, and a few other Lunas I recognize—their wolves holding the line with protective snarls as they inch backward to the Community Center.

My wolf bursts from the brush, cutting across the field and overtaking the Alpha’s speed to beat him there. Leaping in front of the huddling group, I lick my bloody fangs, keeping my paws splayed. With the deepest growl I can manage, my hackles raise, every inch of my skin disgusted by this Alpha’s intentions.

The Alpha hesitates, skidding in the grass. He dashes to the left in a wide arc, avoiding crashing into me just in time before sprinting back into the woods. I want that to be the end of his confidence, but as I turn to Annika, I spot the Alpha prowling in the brush, waiting for another opening to attack.

And I see why the Lunas weren’t running; the wolves behind us have entered the “freeze” state of trauma, staring with wide, tracking eyes at the Alpha, no matter which herding method Annika and Waimārie attempt. Before the Alpha can realize we’re extra vulnerable, I let out a sharp yip, and the wolves jolt, breaking out of their petrified trance. I leap in a zig-zag around the scared wolves, herding them back faster.

Since I can’t mindlink them, I’m surprised by how well they obey, just from my urgent scent and body language. They huddle in close, allowing my wolf to guard them at their flanks as we dash from the field.

When a different straggler Alpha spots our susceptible group, sneaking up on my tail, I put on my meanest snarl, whipping around and slashing my claws at him without a second thought.

The Alpha yipes, his tail tucked as he scampers back to the field with petrified yelps.

I didn’t even touch him, but I must look terrifying; my wolf’s fury has left me shaking and panting, burst after burst of adrenaline firing my nerves at their peak.

But not even the sight of a scared Alpha makes me feel better. This should’ve been a day to celebrate my mate’s victory and to recover. By this point in the Alpha Summit, we’ve spent nearly all our energy on surviving the dominance challenges, and I bet that’s exactly why Mason showed up now.

I don’t even need to go home, if that’s too much to ask of the universe. All I want is to at least go back to a couple hours ago—when my main worry was Noah losing the title of King Alpha. Now I’m just hoping I’ll get to see Noah hold onto his life for another minute.

My stomach somersaults, never feeling heavier as my aching back strains over our growing baby. I don’t want to be forced to do this without Noah.

Using her teeth, Annika yanks open a hidden cellar door in the garden behind the lodge. Her gray-and-ivory wolf guides our group underground—into the Community Center depths.

As we silence ourselves, Annika slinks through underground tunnels, guiding us in the dark with soft pants. When my eyes adjust to the lack of light, I spot Markus in his blanket cocoon, hooked over Annika’s bottom fangs. Even her pristine wolf looks shattered, her ears slicked back to her head in agony. Yet she’s still guiding us all to safety, not giving up.

Once the wolves pile into an innermost chamber in the basement, Annika shifts back into her human form—followed by Waimārie. The other scared wolves must not feel safe enough to shift back, cramming their massive forms as deeply as they can into the back of the room in a quivering cuddle pile. All that can be heard is soft panting, silencing ourselves as best as we can in our panic.

But in her human form, poor Annika breathes so raspily that I’m afraid she’s having an asthma attack, my heart twinging with her every wheeze.

“Darling, we’re okay—” Waimārie steadies Annika’s hands, helping her light a match from a hidden, dusty stash in the wall. “We made it, love. Breathe.”

The second Annika lights the fire, resettling Markus safely in her arms, she turns to me. Wide, shattered eyes stare back, candlelight flickering in her fair irises.

I whine, reflecting in her agony as I ask the same question: how did we get here?

“Goddess, Aliya —you saved—” Annika erupts into desperate cries, gripping my fur. “You saved our mates from being shot! I couldn’t stop it. I saw the barrel aim at us too, a split second before you leapt to—”

Annika can hardly choke out her words as she collapses against me, multiple Lunas erupting into whines as she bursts into loud, frantic cries, expressing the sorrow in the air for all of us.

My ears flatten back as tightly as they can press. But as I allow myself to take a deep breath, I’m terrified: I can finally feel how hard my legs are shaking. What if I have no energy left to help Noah keep us alive? It’s far from over. What’s it like out there now—is it worse? And who died already, despite our efforts?

Waimārie snuggles me with Annika, wiping the blood from my chin and chest as she sobs into my fur in gratitude. Multiple wolves stream in to copy her, licking me clean as they wrap me in their loving warmth.

But my wolf pants and whines in distress; I need to get back to my mate.

Giving them each a soft nuzzle in their hair, I ease my paws back, sending a clear message of my intentions.

“Luna, wait—” Annika pulls a crushed lunch sack from Markus’s diaper bag. Even before she opens it, my wolf drools onto the tile from its scent; Annika reveals three slices of smushed pumpkin bread. “Please, Luna. You need your strength—”

My wolf snatches the bread into her jaws, swallowing it whole—paper sack and all.

A burst of cinnamon and pumpkin swirls at the back of my tongue, alighting my wolf in pleased bristles.

Annika blinks, a weary smile lifting her cheeks as she gazes up at me. All at once, the Lunas around me burst into giggles and tail wags, lightening the heaviness in my chest.

Waimārie gives my ear a deep scratch, urging me into a pleased grunt. She smiles even wider, inspiring a burst of energy within me. “Oh, good girl, Luna!”

Annika giggles despite the tears still cascading her rosy cheeks. “Please, stay safe. You’re dear to all of us.”

I give Waimārie and Annika soft boops with my nose before sprinting out the door, anxious to get back to Noah.

I don’t need Annika’s guidance to find my way out of the tunnels; my wolf remains on high alert, following the clearest scent trail I’ve ever tracked: the rotten, urgent scent of our distress from when we entered. The second I reach the door, I sniff the cool air blowing in through the cracks. Once I’m sure no one is around, I hop from the exit, my body bursting with a second round of adrenaline as I bury the door in dirt with a few kicks of my back legs.

My wolf weaves through the garden, sneaking through the bushes with rapid, expert dodging of rose thorns.

I’m a little stunned that pumpkin bread gave me so much energy. Between my snack and my wolf’s pride of returning to Noah’s side after protecting our Lunas, I feel like I’m flying.

But I spot an Alpha sniffing in the distance—his nose pressed to the garden’s stone path.

He’s probably searching for Luna scents, looking for easy targets to distract our Alphas.

But he doesn’t notice me prowling. Watching him.

My swift paws make no sound as I hunker into the earth, speeding my run into a hunt.

The Alpha yelps at the claws lashing his face, my wolf sending him cowering into the ground. He scampers back onto his paws with bloody jowls, bolting away and leaving behind a trail of pee.

He better warn everyone not to come back here. Instinct takes over, and I pee on top of his pee, warning any Alphas who dare come close that I’m coming for them too.

I sneak to the field’s entrance, curling against the frigid stone as I pant away my stress. Glancing around the corner, my heart drops; the smell of blood lingers in the air, but there are no wolves to be seen.

They’re all fighting within the forest. While we can use its cover to our advantage, so can they.

The closer I get to the snarls, howls, and whines in the distance, the deeper the pit grows in my gut. Charging back onto the field, my stomach rolls, threatening to lose my pumpkin bread with how terrified I am of what I might find.

I’m on my way back, Noah. Are you okay?

We’re faring... Vik’s pack is kicking ass now that we're in his forest, but Mason has even more wolves pouring in. This has to be thousands of Alphas who joined the Super Pack.

Oh, God. I’m on my way to help you.

Stay low. Do you remember Viktor’s only rules before the Alpha battles?

No tail biting or other dirty tricks?

Yes. Every single one of those are exactly what I want you to do. Play as dirty as possible, and please, above all things, do not let yourself get caught.

I won’t, Alpha. You and our pup are my world.

Noah’s heart aches with mine, and I’m certain I understand the dark path his mind just traveled to.

Noah, I’m not letting us die. We’re getting out of this alive.

He doesn’t respond as I dash deeper into the forest—not until the sickening smell of fear and blood ices my veins over.

...I love you, Noah finally mindlinks.

That’s when I spot him: a flash of black in a sea of scampering, terrified wolves.

I love you too, my gorgeous beast. I’m coming up on your left.

Okay. Stay clear of these terrified ones. Fear bites are the most dangerous.

I slip through the trees, skirting around the insecure, flinching Alphas until I find Noah in the center, facing off against a far larger beast than my tiny wolf.

Rage bubbles in my chest at the sight of the stranger Alpha attacking my mate with his full heart, standing by everything he believes in with violent tenacity.

I slip through the less confident Alphas, using my Alpha musk to blend in with their equivalent rage.

Lying low in the brush, I wait.

Within seconds, I see it; I have an opening, but only to grab a tail or an ear.

My Alpha wolf is different from my Omega; impulsivity pushes me to act without as much contemplation. The second the stocky gray Alpha nears my hiding spot, I tear out a mouthful of his fluffy tail, making him let out an embarrassing whine.

Before the other wolves can see who did it, I scamper back off into the trees.

Adrenaline crashes through my system. My fur raises at the thrill of possibly being chased by the Alpha's angry, golden eyes; I dare you to fucking catch me.

But when I sneak a quick glance behind me, I find Noah taking his opportunity to strike at the Alpha’s turned back, leaving a flash of blood to streak through the air.

I know Noah’s okay, but his anger horrifies me.

I feel like Noah’s going to kill him because of me. Would he?

After the Alphas tumble in a jumbled mess of snarls and cries, there’s a brief silence. My limbs sting with fear.

Then the surrounding wolves dart away in whining, shaking horror.

Oh, Goddess. Did Noah just...?

Noah’s black wolf slowly lifts his head, blood dripping from his lips as the massive Alpha lies at his feet in an unmoving heap.

I shrink, imagining how the Alpha's family must feel, especially after being in their shoes.

Noah’s ears fall flat, sensing my extreme discomfort. H-he’s not dead! I'm bringing this one back for questioning. B-but Luna, if I don't hurt them enough, I don’t know if they’ll—

He’s right. The Alpha was only biding his time, his golden eyes whipping open as his muscles flinch to strike my mate. His claws slash up in the air, right in line with Noah’s throat.