Page 5

5

LOGAN

S he haunted my dreams like a shadow I couldn’t catch.

Sleep had come in restless fits, each time slipping from my grip before I could fully sink into it. I’d spent the night tangled in sheets damp with sweat, my mind and body tangled with a memory I couldn’t shake.

Her .

She’d appeared in flashes, blurred and sharp all at once—dark hair glinting under silver light, the proud curve of her chin, her breasts full of feminine strength, the way she’d looked at me and then ran, slipping from me in my slumber.

Even in sleep, my body responded, a raw need coursing through me as I drifted through a shapeless dream, more sensation than image. There was a heat to it, a feeling like I was on the edge of something dangerous, something that called to me with a pull I couldn’t ignore. My cock was hard the whole night through as every move in my sleep seemed to bring her closer. Like she was just out of sight but close enough I could almost touch her.

Mine.

The word persisted, a murmur from my wolf, sure and indignant. The command repeated itself, pulling me under, urging me to find her, to hold her, to claim her. But each time I reached out in the night, she was gone.

I woke tangled and tense, the comforting sense of her presence fading into the morning light. I took a cold shower to calm my erection, but the memory of her stayed with me. I was left on edge with the feeling of something unfinished. Deep within me I was throbbing for her, which was proving to be a very annoying distraction from the day’s work ahead.

I offered rushed greetings to the shifters I passed on the way to the small building that housed the offices of my inner circle. When I begrudgingly flung open the door, stacks of financial reports and spreadsheets were sprawled across my desk, figures and projections staring back at me.

Investments in our land’s natural resources—timber, minerals, and the clean water that ran pure through the Orion lands—still brought in a steady income. There were also accounts tied to biotechnology investments, assets I’d inherited and kept carefully concealed. For years, I’d done everything I could to keep these resources hidden, camouflaging their worth. Too many strange things had happened within our borders, things that defied any logical explanation, and I figured the less anyone knew about Orion’s true worth, the better.

Money was one thing. The health of our pack was another. Orion had wealth, scattered and safeguarded, but our pack was a ghost of its former self. And though I kept the accounts balanced, I hadn’t figured out how to bring us back to what we once were—strong, unified, a pack that commanded respect across the Shadow Moon packs. Not just the wolf packs either. Ever since the Shadow Moon crossed the Earth hundreds of years ago and our eighty-eight packs sprung to life under the constellations, Orion had led wolves, bears, various birds, and the occasional exotic creature pack, though they tended to avoid their non-human forms. It caused too much trouble when a human came across a Pegasus.

The wolf packs had always been the most organized. Our natural pack nature and ability to blend in with the human societies had always done us well. And Orion had been the head of it all. Before the Great Separation, when our Goddess had been pulled away with the rotation of the Shadow Moon.

Ever since, each alpha of Orion had lived his own tragedies, all while the pack continued to flicker like a flame that threatened to be extinguished in the wind.

With our current numbers, the Old Town sat quiet, half-abandoned, the buildings barely maintained to the standards my father and his father set. I kept it running, somehow, with the hope that maybe one day we’d return to it. When we became what we once were.

If we became what we once were.

My wolf growled, and irritation flooded through me. Doubting again? he seemed to ask.

My fingers flexed and curled like claws, and I still couldn’t understand how we’d been whittled down to so little over the years. We’d been kings once, rulers of our lands, and here I was, questioning if I could ever bring us back to that position.

I inhaled deeply and looked over the reports again, subduing the wave of self-doubt that dared creep in. The distraction served me well, and I lost myself in the sea of invoices and contracts that kept our pack’s financial situation healthy, and let me forget everything else for several hours.

A sharp knock on the door snapped me from my thoughts. A quick glance at the clock explained why my back was aching. It was well past dinnertime, and I hadn’t moved in hours. Before I could answer, Rhys was already leaning halfway into the room, a grin on his face and an eyebrow arched.

“You look like hell, brother,” he said, strolling in with his usual swagger, taking in the stacks of papers cluttering my desk. “Long day with paperwork?”

I sighed, rubbing the bridge of my nose. “Something like that.”

He chuckled, dropping into the chair across from me. “Well, I hate to add to your joy, but we’ve got a problem. The natural gas line near Old Town is acting up again. Pressure’s too high. Could be a valve, but if it’s the main line… well, we’re looking at a full system shut-down. You’re going to have to head into the human city to handle it.”

I clenched my jaw. Perfect. Another trip to Seattle to deal with bureaucrats and contractors, not to mention the supernaturals behind the utilities—just what I needed. “And this can’t be handled remotely?”

“Afraid not.” Rhys shrugged, still grinning. “I’ll fuel up your bike. Look at it this way, a little trip to the city could be good for you. Might even put some color back in those cheeks.” He leaned forward, studying me with a curious, almost knowing look. “You look… not exactly unwell …”

“I’m tired,” I said, a bit too quickly.

Rhys’s eyes narrowed, a hint of suspicion flickering there. “ Uh-huh .”

Without a word, he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms and letting the silence settle between us, a silent nudge of tell me the truth reaching me through our bond.

I kept quiet, and his mouth quirked into a half-smile that said he’d wait as long as he needed.

“Really, I’m fine, Rhys,” I muttered, pushing a stack of reports aside with more force than intended. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

He squinted at me, unconvinced but unwilling to push harder. “Right. I’ll let it go, but you’re not fooling me.” He tapped his fingers on the desk and I knew I wasn’t going to be rid of him soon.

I cleared my throat, pushing back the restless energy that had settled under my skin. “With the news about the pipeline,” I said, standing and stretching out the tension in my shoulders, “I could do with another run before I go into the city. I barely covered a few miles of the border last night.”

Rhys’s eyebrows shot up, surprise flashing across his face. “A few miles? You were gone for hours.”

I shrugged, doing my best to keep my expression neutral. “All the more reason to continue today. I’ll focus on the borders near Heraclid territory.”

Rhys stuttered. “Wait, wait, wait. So you’re saying you won’t let me help and yet you spend hours on one small patch of border territory? There are hundreds?—”

I didn’t give him a chance to finish. Before he could start digging into my reasons, I was already out the door.

“Later, bro.”

I shed my clothes, feeling the bite of the evening air as I let my wolf rise to the surface. My bones shifted, my muscles stretching into their true form, and within seconds, I was rooted to the ground in the way only paws could do.

The earth was steady beneath me, grounding, like an anchor back to my instincts. I took off, my wolf hungry for movement, charging over the uneven, rocky terrain that surrounded the village.

The land here was all rough edges and jagged stone, a natural barrier that protected us as fiercely as any wall could. I bounded up and over craggy outcrops and broken paths, my claws scraping the rough earth, leaving new marks over old ones. These stones had seen countless challenges, the gouges from past scuffles still carved into the boulders, a reminder of every battle we’d fought.

Today, they stood silent, watchful. Waiting.

I passed by the Old Town, each vacant building whispering of how far we’d fallen. Walls crumbled, a few windows broken, the scent of rust lacing the air.

When I was a kid, elders told stories of how these streets bustled with packmates, of how our strength could be felt even in the smallest corners of our lands and beyond. Now, the place looked like a graveyard, vines and moss starting to creep in, overtaking cobblestone paths and asphalt.

The silence here was heavy, and I thought of what it would mean to see these streets alive again. But I didn’t hang around. I was here for something else.

For someone else.

There was no reason to believe I would see her again, but even a chance at picking up that scent would be enough—I hoped—to calm my agitated wolf.

I moved into the dense forest surrounding our lands, my wolf’s ears pricking at the sudden shift in the air. The trees closed around me, towering, ancient pines and firs that held the forest’s secrets. Every step further in felt like shedding layers, getting closer to the raw heart of Orion. The ground softened beneath me, moss and earth muffling each step, the scent of pine and damp bark filling my lungs. The canopy above was so thick that even the sun struggled to break through, leaving a soft, greenish glow.

This forest wasn’t merely land—it was memory. Trails twisted and curved, winding through roots and branches. The paths demanded focus, the underbrush thick and tangled, reminding anyone who came through that nothing was given freely.

I let my wolf push harder, weaving through the narrow trails leading toward the border, the place I’d been the day before. It took hours, leaving my scent along the trail, following along the edges of our land. Darkness took over, a cool settling in after the sun set. As I continued, forcing myself to go slowly, to embed my scent along the entire border, the pull grew stronger. Insistent. My wolf knew, even if I wouldn’t say it out loud, that there was something waiting beyond the edge of where I’d stopped yesterday.

And today, I wasn’t turning back.

I froze, my wolf’s senses catching something different in the air, a scent that pulled me away from my path. I turned, heading along the edge of our border with the Heraclids, moving faster as the pull grew more magnetic. I broke through the edge of the forest and stopped.

I know this place.

The edge of Orion pack lands came up like an invisible wall, as I stared at a space that should have been ours and wasn’t anymore.

Even though I’d never fought for it myself, I felt its absence like a phantom limb, a wound that never healed in the heart of Orion. This land had been ours , generations ago, until we’d lost it in an ambush so brutal it left a smudge on our honor, a crack in the unbroken power we’d once commanded.

My father had always spoken of it with regret, a loss he’d sworn we’d never repeat.

Alaric, my former beta, had a different view of that story. To him, the loss had been a shame we could not live with. A stain that demanded we reclaim what was ours.

Alaric pressed me to fight for it, to rally the pack to attack and retake our land. And when I refused—knowing we couldn’t risk more lives on a lost cause—he’d taken it as an insult, letting bitterness fester until it drove him away. I didn’t know where he’d gone, but I saw his wolf’s eyes the morning he left.

They’d been full of hate.

The thought of it twisted inside me, a betrayal beyond imagining. Alaric had been like a brother, once, before he’d crossed to the other side. I cried on him when Wyatt and Nash were lost. The thought of him, a betrayer, standing here on soil that had once been ours, filled me with a fury I could barely contain.

My wolf felt the torment with me, and a low, guttural sound built in his throat until it broke free, an anguished howl that tore through the clearing, spilling into the thick, heavy air. The howl rang out across the clearing with a fury that had no place to go but here, back to the land that had been stolen from us.

A sound broke through the air—a gasp, soft and sharp, slicing through my fury. My ears perked, my wolf’s hackles rising as I caught the scent of another wolf, one who didn’t belong here.

I shot forward, claws digging into the earth as I propelled myself toward the sound. Anger ran through me, the primal need to protect my borders crashing against every other thought. My wolf braced for a fight, ready to lay down his life if it meant keeping this intruder from slipping deeper into our lands. Whoever they were, they would not threaten Orion .

Then the scent hit me.

The same intoxicating pull from yesterday, apples and warm spices, something that shouldn’t have had any power over me but instead tore through every thought like a hurricane.

My wolf fought against me, fierce and unyielding, clawing to push us forward, faster, toward the source.

My muscles tensed. Fury and desire rushed through me at once—yet beneath it all lay an edge of fear. Fear of losing control, of not understanding this maddening pull that unsettled everything I knew about myself. My mind pushed back, my instincts warring between protectiveness and anger, the pull of duty clashing with something wild, something I didn’t want to name.

My wolf surged again, pushing harder, his need thrumming in every beat of my heart, louder than the blood roaring in my ears. I clenched my jaw, trying to force it down, but the woman’s scent only grew stronger, winding through me, teasing and taunting, until every sense burned with it.

The air thickened with it, and the scent tightened its grip, making it impossible to think. Each breath felt like I was inhaling fire, each inhale feeding the frenzied need and warping it until I couldn’t tell where the wolf’s wants ended and my own began.

All I knew was that I couldn’t stop.

My legs pushed harder, faster, the forest around me blurring as we tore through it together—man and wolf caught in a battle neither of us could win.

I broke through the trees, paws skidding as I came to a halt, my chest heaving with the exertion and confusion clawing at me. Then, through the nighttime haze, I saw it.

A long white dress, the fabric hanging from a high branch like a ghost caught in the trees. I traced the line of it upward in a slow, almost reluctant draw.

Until I saw her.