Page 11

Pain bloomed under my skin, low and deep and hot. My back seared, the broken rune flaring like open flame. I bit down on a scream and curled against the wall, hands fisted in the sheets, breath shuddering.

The pain was a beast inside my bones.

It clawed its way up my spine, hot and sharp, chewing through sinew and scar, dragging my breath ragged through clenched teeth. I curled tighter into the floor, nails scraping the stone, my jaw locked around the scream I wouldn’t give them.

I heard Garrick’s boots pacing just beyond the door. I felt his hesitation like a pressure in the air—he wanted to summon him .

Andros. The Alpha.

No. No, no, no.

“Don’t!” I gasped, forcing myself upright, my body shuddering under the weight of the breaking magic. “Don’t bring him. Please—please, Garrick, don’t—”

He turned toward me, brows drawn, mouth grim.

“I need to send for the Alpha,” he said, cold and clipped. “He needs to see what’s happening.”

I stumbled to my feet, catching the wall for balance. “It’ll pass,” I panted. “It’ll hurt—for a while—but I’ve had one break before. I just need time. I can go back. I have coin. I just—just let me go to the witch and have it recarved—”

“No.”

His voice cut like steel. Final. Merciless.

“No more witches. No more runes. No more magic.” His eyes narrowed. “My Alpha gave an order. You’ll stay here. You’ll let it unravel. And I’ll see it done.”

My breath caught. My throat closed.

“You don’t understand,” I whispered. “You don’t know what it feels like. That thing inside me—it’s not me. It’s wild, Garrick. It’s teeth and instinct and heat, and I don’t know how to live with it.”

I pressed my hands to my chest as if I could hold it back, as if I could keep the wolf inside from crawling free now that the first chain had shattered. “It’s never been awake this long before—if the rest of them break—”

“You’ll survive,” he said. “That’s what wolves do.”

I looked up at him. Begged. “Let me go.”

“No.”

“Please—”

His eyes flickered, for a moment, with something like pity. But it wasn’t soft. It was the pity you give a starving dog who bit its own tongue trying not to howl.

“You carved your wolf into silence like it was some disease,” he said. “You butchered what the gods gave you. And now you beg to keep butchering it?”

I turned away, ashamed of the tears stinging my eyes. He stepped closer, voice low with fury.

“That thing inside you—it’s not a curse. It’s a blessing. And you should be ashamed. Ashamed that you spent your life trying to kill it.”

I wanted to scream at him. Tell him it wasn’t a gift. Not for me. Not for girls born Omega in the courts of the South. But the pain rose again, drowning the words in fire. I sank to my knees, shivering as heat spread across my back, across the remnants of the runes that still held—barely.

He watched me crumble but the pain didn’t last. It never did. That was the cruel part. It came like a firestorm—violent, blinding, enough to make me think it would end me—and then it ebbed, leaving only ash and a hollow echo in my chest where silence used to live.

The rune was gone.

I could feel the emptiness it left behind, like a tooth ripped from the bone.

But the rest still held. For now. I stayed on the floor, breath shallow, forehead pressed to the cool stone.

The ache had faded to a dull throb beneath my skin, but I didn’t move.

I couldn’t trust myself not to fall apart again.

Garrick didn’t speak. He just… watched.

Then, without a word, he stepped out. I heard the soft clink of a pitcher, the scrape of metal against wood, and when he returned, he held out a cup. Water. Cold and clean. He set it beside me on the floor and moved to the door again.

“Food’s coming,” he muttered to the guard stationed outside. “Tell the kitchen to make it hot.”

He came back in, crouched beside me, silent. Not cruel. Not kind either. Just there. When I finally sat up, my limbs felt heavy, my breath still shaky.

“…Thank you,” I said, voice low. “For not calling him.”

His eyes flicked toward me, unreadable. “Didn’t think he’d help.”

“He wouldn’t.”

We sat in silence for a moment. The fire cracked in the hearth. I pulled the cup into my hands and drank greedily, the water sharp and cold against my throat.

A knock came, and Garrick rose to collect the tray. He brought it over and set it in front of me—bread, stewed meat, a slice of hard cheese. Simple. But warm. And enough.

I didn’t hesitate. I ate like someone who didn’t know if she’d get another chance.

“You’ve been starving,” he muttered.

“Wasn’t exactly feasting on the docks,” I said between bites.

He huffed something close to a laugh, leaned against the edge of the hearth, arms crossed. We didn’t speak for a while. Then his voice broke the quiet, low and casual—too casual.

“What broke it?”

I stopped chewing. Looked up slowly.

“What?”

“The rune.” He nodded toward me. “What cracked it? Was it the word Luna ?” A pause. Then, lower: “Or the image of another woman in the Alpha’s bed?”

I didn’t answer. My jaw clenched, and the low sound I made was closer to a growl than a word.He smiled.

“I’ll take that as a mix of both .”

“Don’t push me,” I warned.

He just laughed again, a breath of sound through his nose, dark and knowing. “You think you’re confused? You should’ve seen him yesterday.”

I frowned, but didn’t ask. He told me anyway.

“I brought up your name. Just to test him. Asked if you were worth the trouble.”

He glanced at me, lips twitching into a grin.

“He broke my jaw.”

I blinked.

“Didn’t even say a word. Just punched me. Right there in the sparring ring. Dropped me like a sack of bricks.” He touched his chin as if recalling the sting. “I’ve fought beside that man for fifteen years and I’ve never seen him lose control like that.”

I didn’t know what to say. Because I didn’t know what it meant. And worse—I didn’t know why something deep inside me liked it. A little too much.

I was halfway through tearing into the bread when Garrick started talking again. At first, I thought he was just trying to fill the silence—some men couldn’t stand it, especially wolves—but then I realized he wasn’t just talking.

He was choosing his words.

“There was a battle two winters ago,” he began, his tone light, like he was reminiscing.

“Deep in the Black Pines. Crescent Moon had taken one of our outposts, killed everyone inside. We were outnumbered, ambushed. I thought we were done. Andros didn’t hesitate.

He took five men, cut through their front lines like they were wheat under a blade. ”

I didn’t look up. Just tore off another piece of bread, chewed slowly.

“He dragged one of their Alphas back alive. Threw him at the feet of his own pack and told them to kneel or die. He didn’t have to kill the rest. They broke themselves trying to follow him after that.”

“Don’t try to talk him up in front of me,” I muttered. “I know what he is.”

“That wasn’t the point of the story.” He pushed off the hearth, crossing the room to pour himself a cup of water. “The point was to tell you how well-trained our fighters are. How careful the trainers are with their students. How much we value structure. Control.”

My eyes narrowed. The food sat heavier in my stomach now.

“What’s this really about, Garrick?”

He stilled. Avoided my gaze. That was the first real sign something wasn’t right. A man like him—broad, scarred, always walking like he was half a breath away from battle—avoiding a stray Omega’s eyes?

“Out with it.”

He cleared his throat and glanced at the door.

“After breakfast,” he said finally, “I found the boy.”

That word pierced me sharper than any knife.

“Dain?”

He nodded. “He was outside. Near the training fields. Watching the pups. He asked if he could train.”

I sat frozen. The words didn’t register at first.

“With swords,” Garrick added, almost gently now. “He said he wanted to learn how to fight. Said he wanted to protect you.”

I swallowed hard. “He’s just a child.”

Garrick nodded. “I know. That’s why I didn’t give him an answer. Not until I spoke to you first.”

The food turned to ash in my mouth. My son—my little boy who still held my hand when the wind howled too loud at night—asking to be turned into one of them.

And all I could think was: This place is already changing him.

Fury was instant. It hit like a spark to dry kindling.

“Was this Andros’s idea? Is that how he means to punish me? Rip the boy from me and train him like one of his wolves? Put a sword in his hands and call it protection?”

My voice cracked, sharp and raw. The image of Dain— my Dain —surrounded by snarling pups and blades dulled for practice, bloodied in the snow while they moulded him into something brutal, something like them, twisted my stomach.

Garrick didn’t flinch. He just lifted his hands slowly, palms out. “It wasn’t Andros’s idea.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not.” His voice was calm. Steady. “If it was his command, I wouldn’t be here asking you politely. I’d be delivering an order.”

That silenced me. The truth of it sank in cold and deep. If the Alpha had wanted Dain taken… he would be gone. No discussion. No questions. No choice.

That thought alone sent a shiver down my spine.

“Then why ask? Why even pretend to give me a voice?” I crossed my arms over my chest, voice low. “If I say no, will it matter? Will you listen?”

Garrick tilted his head, and for a moment, the grin that broke across his mouth made him look younger, less like a soldier, more like a man who remembered how to laugh.

“In case you’ve been away from wolves too long, Lexa, let me remind you—nothing has changed.” He leaned against the wall, arms folded. “Politics are still politics. Even in a blood-soaked pack like ours.”

I frowned.

“Sure, we all answer to the same Alpha. But it’s nice to have friends in high places.

Especially when certain... ambitious bitches want to claw their way to the top.

She’d throw me out the first chance she got if she ever managed to get crowned Luna .

Which, gods forbid, might actually happen if the Alpha ever starts thinking with the wrong head. ”

“And what, you think being friendly with me is going to save you from her claws?”

He chuckled. “No. But I’d rather have a stray at my Alphas side than a poisoned rose.”

I stared at him. And despite the fire still simmering in my chest… gods help me—I smiled.