Araya Varrow spent years thinking that marrying the pack’s Alpha, Jasper Drevyn, would finally earn her a shred of dignity. Instead, it all blew up in her face. Jasper, proud as ever, shamed her in front of the whole pack, tossing her aside as if she meant nothing, wolf-less, unworthy, and pregnant with his child. Alone and exiled into the bitter cold, survival seemed like a lost cause.

But destiny had other ideas.

Just as her strength was giving out, Araya was found by Ronan Tharos, a Direwolf whose past is written in scars and whose gaze could melt stone. His methods are harsh, his temper sharp, but he pushes Araya harder than anyone ever has. Under Ronan’s relentless training, the wolf inside her finally roars awake—enormous, silver as the moon, and bound to an ancient prophecy. The child she carries isn’t merely a symbol of her old life; he’s the linchpin in a legend that could either heal the rift between wolves and Direwolves or plunge Drevalon into chaos.

When word reaches Jasper that Araya is not only alive but thriving, he returns a shell of the man he once was—pleading at her feet for a second chance, willing to risk everything. But Araya is no longer the vulnerable woman he cast aside. She’s carved herself into a force to be reckoned with, standing at the head of her own pack, a Direwolf at her side, and a son whose power could shake the world.

Now she stands at a crossroads: forgive the man who betrayed her, or embrace the wild Direwolf who taught her to fight for her future.

In a realm where betrayal hits harder than any blow and the fires of prophecy burn hotter than revenge, Araya is ready to take her place at the top and make sure every last wolf who turned their back on her remembers her name.

I'd grown up in these mountains, knew every scent the wind carried—pine sap and stone dust, the musk of wolves marking territory, even the sharp tang of coming snow. But this was different. This was rot and copper, death and something else.


"Vampires," Gareth growled beside me, his wolf rising so close to the surface his eyes flickered amber. "They're feeding."


My stomach twisted. I'd read about vampires in the archives, studied their tactics and weaknesses with the same methodical attention I gave everything else. But reading about death and smelling it were different things entirely.


"How many?" Ronan's voice cut through the tension, steady as stone.


"At least six. Maybe more." One of the scouts, a lean wolf named Petra, crouched low, testing the wind. "They've got one of ours. Still alive, but not for long."


Chapter 85 - First Blood