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LOGAN

I will not let my pack die.

The Moonstone Plateau stretched out before us, stars shining over the sharp edges of pines and rocks. To the Orion pack, it was as familiar as our own hands. This was home—rugged, open, and ours. We’d shed blood to keep it that way.

The air was sharp and fresh this night, carrying the scent of the forest and the last traces of rain. It had a bite to it, the kind that woke you up, kept you grounded, reminded you of your place in the wild. But even in the chill, there was warmth here, a sense of welcome, like the firelight that flickered against a rock. Away from the human world—a world that knew nothing of us—we could be ourselves.

I rolled up my sleeves, feeling the night air on my forearms, and traced the ink that marked the brothers who had disappeared. We had once been four brothers, so different from each other and yet bound by our blood, but only two of us remained. This reminder of them was tattooed into my skin. They were one more reason I wouldn’t let us fall. My youngest brothers—twins—were lost, but not dead, no matter what everyone else thought. I felt them in the air the way only a hunter could.

And when they returned, I intended for them to have a pack to come back to.

A fire crackled in the center of the gathering, casting a soft, warm glow. Around it, we sat in circles—pups, scouts, hunters, and the wisdom keepers to whom this night was dedicated. Our elders.

Rhys, my remaining brother and now my beta, strummed an old guitar, his fingers moving over the strings with a familiar ease, sending the melody floating through the air. It was simple, a few chords, but here on the Plateau, it was all we needed to keep the night alive.

Laughter rose in soft waves as someone retold a story of Orion’s glory days, one that had grown over the years with each retelling, but was filled with the truth of our power.

Power we would find again one day.

A few child-pups ran around the circle’s edge, weaving through the pack with bright cheeks and easy giggles. The sound made my heart ache—no child had been born in more than five years. One of the elders reached down, catching a girl to gently ruffle her hair, her laughter lighting up the cool night air. The aroma of mulled cider from the apples of our orchard along with smoke from the fire wrapped around us, and as Rhys shifted to a livelier tune, a few clapped along.

Here, we gathered as one, in the same place our elders had gathered for generations. It was a habit as old as the pack itself—sharing stories, firelight, and a bit of music under an open sky that felt endless, like the land itself was a part of our family. There was no bitterness here, no need for empty words. It was an ease I knew didn’t exist anywhere else. Family .

And that was why I had to save us.

We used to number in the thousands. The Orion pack was revered and respected among all packs of the Shadow Moon. We ran the show, led the Northern council, had a league of alphas who led the sub-branches of the pack. We brokered treaties between the eighty-eight packs from the Southern and Northern hemispheres, between shifters of various species and the occasional half-human who got ideas of grandeur.

The Orion pack was royalty, my ancestors the kings.

And now we’d been reduced to barely 150 souls.

Rhys passed the guitar to a younger wolf and stood from the log he’d been sitting on, heading in my direction. I never wanted my younger brother to be beta. I couldn’t bear the risk it exposed him to, but after I was betrayed by my last beta, I knew he was intended for this position. And I don’t think I could have stopped him from taking it up if I’d wanted to.

“My brother.”

Rhys extended his right hand to me, and I matched it, our palms pressing firmly together, fingers curling slightly around each other’s hands. We lifted our joined hands between us, a silent oath held in the shared weight of our grip. With a practiced motion, we thumped our joined fists first against his chest and then against mine, the impact resonating in the cool night air.

The greeting was old, a tradition woven deep into the fabric of our pack. It was a reminder of the pulse we shared as Orion, a bond of loyalty and strength that was as persistent as the constellations above us.

“Alpha,” Rhys murmured. “Will you address the elders tonight?”

I gave him a nod. I wasn’t much for speeches—never had been—but they expected me to say something, to honor the wisdom keepers as they deserved. I’d do it for them.

I stepped toward the fire, glancing at the pack gathered around, feeling the warmth of their trust. As I began to speak, I focused on the elders. They’d been through more than I could imagine. I took a breath, trying to find the words for this annual ceremony. Their eyes were all on me, filled with the questions they didn’t have to ask because I knew them already. My fingers found their way to the ink etched into my skin, outlining the marks that honored the brothers I hadn’t been able to find. Their absence, like a burn, branded my resolve and seared into my soul.

“To each of you, our wisdom keepers,” I began, “I owe a debt that can’t be repaid. You’ve stayed loyal through every betrayal, kept faith through losses most wouldn’t bear.”

The crowd offered me knowing nods as they listened.

“In the time of my great-grandfather, our thinning numbers seemed natural,” I said, feeling the ache in my chest as I spoke.

In the beginning, our numbers reduced due to marriages to other packs, pups born into new pack families—alliances built from blood.

Then things changed.

Wolves disappeared. Pups were just gone, stolen from their dens. And soon after, the attacks on our borders started. Enemies hid in the shadows, waiting until we were at our weakest. Unexplained illnesses. No pregnancies. My great-grandfather fought to keep us alive, but alliances became few and far between.

“Our enemies tried to make us feel shame, to strip the honor my ancestors built.”

My throat closed up, my voice catching as I looked at the elders.

“This pack has endured more than any I know, and you’re the reason we still stand here today. You’ve taught us what it means to be strong. We haven’t always had it easy, but you showed us how to carry on. As your alpha, I will not—” The words were too much, the pain of our losses tightening my chest.

Elder Raina rose from her place by the fire, her long beaded silver hair tinkling a rhythm as she placed her hand on my shoulder.

“Logan,” she said, calm and certain. “You don’t carry this pack alone. We all do. You’re our alpha, yes, but the defense of Orion isn’t your burden alone.” Her grip was solid.

Murmurs from across the pack supported Elder Raina’s words.

“Remember who we are, Logan. We are Orion . Hunters by blood, by bond. And no enemy can take that from us. Keep heart, son. You lead us with honor. Perhaps it is unnatural that the hunter has become the hunted, but we shall face this as we have ever since the Shadow Moon Goddess created our packs.” She straightened, her chin high as she nodded. “Now swallow that sadness and lead these wolves on a run. ”

Her words settled in me, bolstering the strength I’d nearly lost. I squared my shoulders and pulled off my shirt, the familiar shapes of the tattoos on my bare forearm grounding me.

My brothers always felt closer during a run.

“Orion pack, shift !” I commanded as I let the strength of my pack guide me. “We will run until the moonlight dies and into tomorrow.”

A low, united growl rose from the wolves around me as one by one, they let their human forms fall away, taking up their true selves, ready to run together beneath the stars. Our wolves came to the fore, the human counterpart ever present, allowing our instinctual nature to thrive in the land that nourished our souls.

Moments like these reminded me of what I wanted to build—to rebuild for our pack. A place where strength meant more than survival. It meant family, honor. Values I would protect to my last breath.

The wind cut through my fur, sharp and cold, yet it felt like fire in my veins. My paws struck the earth in a steady rhythm, each stride echoing through the woods as we ran together, a single pulse of pack unity.

They moved in perfect sync around me, shadows weaving through the trees, a fluid mass of muscle and instinct. I could feel each member’s presence, the subtle connections linking us together, humming in my mind like a second heartbeat. My wolf led the way, his senses heightening, urging us onward, hungry for the rush of this run. The smell of damp earth filled the air, and the towering pines seemed to stretch on endlessly, welcoming us as only our own land could .

A pair of younger wolves veered forward slightly, ahead of me, their excitement pushing them too far from the group’s center. I let out a low growl, a command sent through the pack’s bond, and they fell back immediately, their eyes wide with apology as they returned to their place.

They were learning, finding their own feet within the pack, but they had yet to understand what it meant to run as one. Tonight, they’d know.

Rhys fell into step beside me, a privileged spot for my beta. His eyes met mine in a brief, wordless exchange that needed no interpretation. My brother and I didn’t need words. We’d spent a lifetime running together, knowing each other’s abilities, weaknesses, and instincts better than our own. His pace matched mine effortlessly, his gaze sharp and alert as he took in the land around us, a silent reassurance that he was there, watching, protecting. Always.

He bumped into my side to make me stumble and though I gave him a look as a reprimand, he winked in return.

The landscape opened into a clearing, a place where moonlight broke through the canopy in silvery threads, spilling across the grass in patches. The pack spread out here, taking advantage of the open space, every wolf’s spirit rising. My wolf lifted his head, breathing in the scent of our land, our territory, a place that had belonged to our ancestors and would one day belong to our pups. Borders that we would reclaim from those who dared to encroach and call it their own.

The night stretched ahead, vast and open, and in this moment, nothing could touch us.

Rhys’s eyes flicked to mine, the glint in them sharp, questioning. Through the bond, I let him feel my intention—a wordless exchange that told him where I was headed. The borders had been harder to hold, our numbers too few to patrol as thoroughly as we once did. If we were going to keep this territory safe and stand any chance at reclaiming what we’d lost, I needed my scent along every inch of those borders.

And this part, I would do alone.

Rhys’s wolf jogged in sync with me, paws hitting the earth in time as we reached the edge of the clearing. I gave him a nudge, brushing my side against his, urging him toward the main group. My wolf’s push was gentle, a command, but softened, knowing he’d resist me running alone.

Indeed, Rhys’s steps stayed with mine even as the others continued on, their forms blending back into the shadowed pines.

I stopped, letting the others disappear into the trees, and sent the command with more weight this time.

Go back, Rhys. My wolf’s growl came low, steady, with the force I rarely had to use on him.

But this was my run along the borders. My duty.

After a beat, he gave a low huff, and he dipped his head in agreement. Rhys turned toward the pack, his movements begrudging as he joined them, casting one last glance over his shoulder before disappearing into the trees.

I waited until I could no longer hear him before heading toward the borders, feeling the weight of my duty settle like stone as I began my patrol alone, intending to leave the trail of my scent across every inch of our land.

I moved steadily along the edge of our land, my wolf alert, senses heightened as I neared the borders of the Heraclid territory. The forest thickened here, shadows pooling around the dense trunks, and every rustle of leaves or snap of a twig sent my wolf’s instincts humming. This land was familiar, but it demanded attention, vigilance—especially this close to enemy lines.

Suddenly, I froze.

A scent drifted through the trees, light at first, carrying enough to pull me up short, my paws rooted to the earth. I inhaled sharply, drawing it in. Apples, rich and sweet, with an exotic spice I couldn’t quite place. It was warm and clung to the air, stirring something deep inside me.

It was a scent unlike anything I’d ever known, yet somehow familiar, a whisper of something I should have known, so familiar it took me back to childhood.

My wolf surged, powerful and urgent, wanting—no, needing —to follow it. The scent tugged at me, intoxicating, a taste of the forbidden and essential all at once.

Muscles tense, claws digging into the ground, I fought to keep control. The scent lingered, wrapping around my senses until I was drowning in it, losing grip on where I was, on why I’d come here. My wolf clawed, wild and insistent, pushing against my will with a strength I hadn’t felt in years.

Unable to control him otherwise, I shifted, falling into my human form with a sharp breath. The night air hit my skin.

Still that scent filled my lungs.

I forced myself to steady, muscles taut as I stepped forward, pushing past the branches that scratched at my skin. They left thin marks along my arms, stinging and fresh, but they healed as quickly as they’d appeared.

I was drawn deeper into the shadows, and the scent grew stronger, filling the air. I barely noticed the scratches or the leaves clinging to my skin as I moved through the undergrowth, entirely focused on whatever—or whoever—was drawing me in.

Through the thick branches, I saw her.

Mine.

The word crashed through me, unbidden and primal, as my eyes locked on her form through the shadows of the trees. My wolf’s claim, possessive and absolute, gripped me like a vice, leaving no room for doubt or question.

She was everything I hadn’t known I was waiting for, yet here she stood—a vision wild and untouchable, drawing me closer with each heartbeat.

She was breathtaking.

Dark hair fell in a long braid over her shoulder, twisted and intricate, trailing down the front of her body as if it were both shield and invitation. The braid looked loose, strands escaping to frame a face that was both fierce and fragile, high cheekbones shadowed in the dim light. Her skin, pale and smooth, was kissed by the moonlight filtering through the trees, lending her an otherworldly glow against the darkness of the forest. She wore a simple dress, white and flowing, clinging to her in places that accentuated the beauty of her figure. Parts were torn, edges frayed and stained by the forest floor. Her bare feet were muddy, raw even, though the way she stood exuded fierce dignity.

She didn’t look like anyone from the packs I knew. There was a haunting quality to her, mysterious, but my senses craved it. My wolf clawed at my restraint, desperate to close the distance, to claim her in the way only a shifter’s instincts understood.

My mate.

My human side held the wolf back, torn by the madness of it all. Fated mates didn’t exist—at least, not since the days of the Great Separation, when the packs turned against each other, tearing apart the ancient bonds under the Shadow Moon.

Lore or not, myth or madness, all I could focus on was her , this beautiful, untouchable woman who’d stumbled into my world like a forbidden promise whispered only to me.

Her chest rose and fell, breath quick, and her pulse was visible in her throat, a beat that matched my own, calling to me with a pull so strong it felt like it would rip me in two.

Every fiber of me demanded I go to her, draw her close, feel her against me and never let her go. My hands itched with the need to touch her skin, to feel the warmth radiating from her, to see if the softness there was real. My wolf howled within, a possessive need beyond anything I’d felt before, as if she were the answer to a question I’d been asking my whole life.

She turned, and for a breathless moment, our eyes locked. Her eyes—dark, deep, and intense—struck me with a force that nearly knocked me off-balance. Her gaze roamed over me, unblinking, until it reached my bare chest and trailed lower.

My stomach dropped as I remembered, too late, that I was standing there naked, every inch of me laid bare under her scrutiny. Heat rushed through me, and she gasped, the soft sound hitting my ears like the crack of a whip. Before I could speak, before I could even move, she turned and bolted, her steps light and quick as she tore through the forest.

She was fast. Faster than I’d ever seen a human form run, her movements precise and nimble, as if she were born to evade. My wolf snarled, furious at the widening distance between us, but I couldn’t look away, couldn’t force my feet to move, as if I’d been rooted to the spot by the power of that single shared glance.

Mine.

The word throbbed in me, an instinct I had no power to quiet. She slipped deeper into Heraclid territory, disappearing into the shadows, her form weaving through the thick underbrush until she was a glimmer in the trees, and then nothing at all. She only left a deafening silence left behind.

My wolf pushed again, furious, thrashing against the cage I’d forced him into. He howled, pushing me to follow her, to tear through every barrier between us until she was in my grasp.

Mine. The word beat like a war drum, demanding, relentless.

I didn’t move. I stayed there, staring into the emptiness where she’d been, inhaling the faint remnants of her scent. Only then did I turn back toward the Orion lands, the pull of duty calling me away. My wolf, wild and unyielding, only chanted one word over and over, filling my mind with a raw, primal truth.

Mine. Mine. Mine.