Chapter 3

Seraphina stood on the broken stone rampart, looking down at the small courtyard below.

The freezing wind bit at her cheeks, but she barely felt it.

Her core was always warm now.

In the center of the courtyard, five young female wolves were practicing hand-to-hand combat.

They were all omegas and lower-ranking shifters who had fled their packs after facing abuse or unfair banishment.

When they first arrived at the fortress, they were starving, terrified, and broken.

Now, their movements were sharp, confident, and disciplined.

“Keep your guards up, Lyra!” Seraphina called down, her voice cutting through the crisp morning air.

“An Alpha doesn’t fight fair.

If he tries to pin you using his weight, use his momentum against him.”

Lyra, a small gray wolf who had been cast out of a neighboring pack for a minor mistake, adjusted her stance and swept her opponent’s legs, sending the larger girl crashing onto the dirt.

Seraphina nodded in approval.

A soft splash behind her made her turn around.

Talia climbed up the stone steps, carrying a wooden bucket of fresh water from the river at the base of the cliff.

She didn’t look tired at all, even though the climb was steep and dangerous.

The water inside the bucket didn’t spill a single drop, hovering slightly below the rim as if Talia were holding it down with her mind.

“The northern border is quiet,” Talia said, setting the bucket down.

She wiped a stray strand of dark hair from her face.

“But I caught the scent of Blood Moon scouts near the riverbank this morning.

Drake is expanding his hunting grounds again.

He’s getting close to our perimeter.”

Seraphina’s jaw tightened at the mention of her former mate.

“Let him try to cross.

He thinks this forest is just an empty wasteland filled with weak rogues.

He has no idea we are right under his nose.”

“We need to be careful, Sera,” Talia warned, sitting on a stone block.

“We have twelve girls now.

They are strong, and they know how to fight, but we don’t have the numbers to fight a full pack war yet.

Not if Drake and Caspian decide to team up.”

“They won’t team up,” Seraphina said, a bitter edge to her voice.

“They are too arrogant to share territory.

Drake thinks he owns the sky, and Caspian thinks he owns the sea.

They despise each other.”

Talia sighed, looking out over the endless sea of trees.

“True.

But desperation makes people do strange things.

Speaking of Caspian, the water currents from the south have been carrying a heavy scent of blood lately.

The Dark Sea pack is fighting someone.

There are rogue attacks near their borders almost every night.”

Before Seraphina could reply, a loud howl echoed from the western woods.

It wasn’t a warning howl; it was a plea for help.

It was short, strained, and suddenly cut off.

Down in the courtyard, the girls immediately stopped training, their heads snapping toward the forest.

Their bodies went tense, waiting for a command.

“Talia, with me,” Seraphina said, her instincts instantly taking over.

“Lyra, lock the main gates.

Keep the younger girls inside the fortress.

Do not open it unless you hear my whistle.”

“Yes, Alpha Seraphina,” Lyra called out, running toward the heavy iron-reinforced wooden gates.

Seraphina and Talia vaulted over the stone wall, dropping fifteen feet to the ground below without missing a beat.

They sprinted into the thick forest, their movements perfectly synchronized.

For the past six months, they hadn’t just trained the other girls; they had pushed their own limits.

Seraphina could now summon localized walls of flame without burning the surrounding trees, and Talia could manipulate water from the moisture in the air, creating solid shields or razor-sharp projectiles.

The scent of blood grew stronger as they neared the edge of the neutral zone.

They hid behind a dense thicket of bushes, masking their scents, and peered into a small clearing.

Three large, aggressive male wolves from the Blood Moon pack had pinned a young female rogue against a mossy boulder.

The girl was bleeding from a deep gash on her arm, her breathing ragged.

She was a rogue, but she didn’t look dangerous.

She looked terrified, clutching a small fabric bag tightly against her chest.

“You took something that belongs to Alpha Drake, little rogue,” one of the male wolves sneered, shifting halfway into his human form.

He was a brute named Marcus, a high-ranking warrior Seraphina recognized all too well.

He used to be one of Drake’s personal enforcers.

“The Alpha doesn’t like thieves.

Give us the map, and maybe we’ll make your death quick.”

“I found it in the neutral ruins,” the girl sobbed, pressing herself harder against the rock.

“It doesn’t belong to him!

It’s ancient!”

Marcus raised his hand, his claws extending, ready to strike her down.

“Everything in this forest belongs to the Blood Moon pack if we say it does.”

“I don’t think so, Marcus,” a cold, familiar voice cut through the clearing.

Marcus froze, his head snapping toward the thicket.

Seraphina stepped out into the open, her arms crossed over her chest.

Her blue eyes were completely calm, but the ground beneath her boots was already drying up from the intense, hidden heat radiating from her body.

“Seraphina?” Marcus gasped, his eyes widening in shock.

The other two warriors stepped back, their jaws dropping.

“The freak… you’re still alive?”

“Not just alive, Marcus.

Better than ever,” Seraphina said, a dangerous smile touching her lips.

“You’re standing on my territory.

And you are harassing a guest of mine.”

“Your territory?” Marcus laughed, though his eyes darted around nervously, looking for an ambush.

“This is rogue mud.

You’re nothing but an exiled bitch who got rejected by our Alpha.

You have no authority here.”