-ALPHA-
The news of Freya, Daemon, and the others escaping the packlands sent shockwaves through both camps. For Rowen Shadowclaw, it was a personal affront. Freya’s departure, along with the rising dissent among his younger warriors, threatened to unravel his carefully laid plans. For Magnus, it was a bitter realization that the white wolves he had sought to control were now beyond his grasp. Both men seethed with anger, their ambitions momentarily united by a shared hatred for their elusive prey.
Rowen sat in his office, the dim glow of the lamp illuminating Victor’s grim expression. The Alpha’s fingers drummed against the desk as he mulled over his options. “Magnus,” he said finally, his voice low and thoughtful.
Victor’s brow furrowed. “Magnus? Are you suggesting—”
“I’m suggesting we use him,” Rowen interrupted, his tone sharp. “He has resources we don’t. Scouts everywhere. He’s been hunting Freya longer than we have. We may not like him, but we both want the same thing: those wolves dead.”
Victor hesitated but nodded. “He’ll want something in return.”
Rowen’s lips curled into a cold smile. “Let him think he’s getting what he wants. Once we’ve dealt with Freya and Daemon, we’ll deal with him.”
-MAGNUS-
Magnus stood in the heart of his camp, his dark eyes scanning the reports from his scouts. The loss of Isabelle, while not entirely unexpected, was still a nuisance. She had been useful—until she wasn’t. But Freya and Daemon’s escape was a far graver concern.
“Rowen Shadowclaw,” he mused aloud, pacing. His second-in-command, a wiry rogue named Corvin, stood nearby, watching his leader with wary eyes.
“Shadowclaw won’t ally with you,” Corvin said cautiously. “Not without a plan to betray you.”
Magnus chuckled darkly. “Of course not. But we share a goal, and even reluctant allies can be useful—temporarily.”
Corvin tilted his head. “You’ll meet with him?”
Magnus nodded. “Send word. Make it clear this is about mutual interests. If he’s smart, he’ll see the advantage.”
The meeting was arranged under the cover of night in neutral territory—an abandoned outpost on the outskirts of the rogue-controlled lands. Both sides came prepared, their respective guards keeping watch as the two leaders stepped into the clearing. The tension was palpable, a mix of mistrust and reluctant necessity.
Magnus leaned against a makeshift table, his dark eyes fixed on Rowen as the Alpha approached with Victor at his side. The rogue leader’s smirk was cold, calculated, as he broke the silence. “Well, well. The mighty Alpha Shadowclaw graces us with his presence.”
Rowen’s eyes narrowed, his voice steady but laced with derision. “I’m here because circumstances demand it. Don’t mistake this for friendship, Magnus.”
“Friendship?” Magnus chuckled, the sound low and dangerous. “No, I wouldn’t insult either of us with such a notion. This is business. You want Freya and Daemon dead. So do I.”
Rowen’s fists clenched, but he nodded. “They’ve made fools of us both. They think they can defy their betters and survive.”
“They won’t,” Magnus said simply. “But let’s be clear—once they’re gone, so is this alliance.”
“Agreed,” Rowen said curtly. “Now, what do you have to offer?”
Magnus gestured to a map spread across the table. “Scouts. Information. My rogues are everywhere. You have strength, Shadowclaw, but you lack subtlety. Together, we’ll find them.”
Rowen studied the map, his expression unreadable. “And what do you expect in return?”
Magnus’s smile turned predatory. “When this is over, I want your pack’s allegiance. You’ll serve me.”
Rowen laughed, a sharp, bitter sound. “Is that what you think? That I’d kneel to you?”
Magnus shrugged, his tone casual. “You’ll do what’s necessary to survive. But we can discuss that later. For now, we focus on the wolves.”
Victor exchanged a wary glance with Rowen but said nothing. The tension between the two leaders crackled like a live wire, their temporary truce held together by the thinnest thread of mutual ambition.
“Fine,” Rowen said finally, his voice cold. “We’ll work together. But don’t think for a second that I trust you.”
Magnus’s smile didn’t waver. “The feeling is mutual.”
-FREYA-
The team had settled into a steady rhythm on their journey, the camaraderie among them growing stronger with each passing mile. The forest seemed to hum with life around them, its thick canopy providing shade as they moved in wolf form. Occasionally, someone would shift back to stretch or scout ahead on two legs, but for the most part, they travelled as a pack.
Finn and Nathan had become fast friends, their playful banter breaking the monotony of the journey. Nathan, though a little quieter than Finn, had a sharp wit that matched his companion’s cheeky nature. They often exchanged conspiratorial glances before pulling harmless pranks on the others—like nudging Liam into a patch of mud earlier that morning, much to the group’s amusement.
“Keep that up, and I’ll bury both of you,” Liam grumbled good-naturedly, wiping mud from his legs as Tobias shook his head in exasperation.
Later in the day, Freya had stopped to inspect a stream, her wolf still curious about its surroundings despite the seriousness of their mission. Finn and Nathan took the opportunity to leap into action. Nathan returned with a few wildflowers he’d managed to pluck from nearby, while Finn carried back a small shiny rock he claimed was “special.”
“Which do you like better, Freya?” Finn asked with a grin, holding the rock up proudly.
“Clearly the flowers,” Nathan retorted, shoving Finn lightly with his shoulder.
Freya chuckled, her warm smile lighting up her face. “I like both,” she said diplomatically, sensing the mild competition. “They are so different it is no choice. You two are very thoughtful.”
Finn smirked, puffing his chest out, while Nathan gave a satisfied nod. Tobias, watching from a distance, groaned quietly to himself.
“If they start howling love songs next, I’m going to lose it,” Tobias muttered to Daemon, who smirked.
“They’re harmless,” Daemon replied. “Though I wouldn’t mind seeing how they’d survive your wrath.”
The easy humour of the day shifted abruptly when Mira froze mid-step, her head lifting as her nostrils flared. Tobias, noticing her posture, immediately signalled for silence. The group stopped, ears swivelling as they waited for her report.
“There’s a rogue nearby,” Mira said in a low voice, her enhanced senses picking up faint movements. “East of here, moving parallel to us. Alone.”
Tobias motioned for the group to spread out, keeping low as they moved through the trees. Mira led the way, her senses locked onto the rogue’s position. As they approached, they spotted him—a wiry man with ragged clothing and a desperate gleam in his eyes. He was armed with a silver dagger and seemed to be scouting.
Before the rogue could notice them, Tobias and Liam flanked him, while Mira stepped into his line of sight with a feral growl. The rogue froze, his eyes darting between them.
“You’re a long way from home,” Tobias said coolly, shifting back to human form, though his wolf hovered just beneath the surface.
The rogue sneered but didn’t respond. Tobias’s eyes flicked to Liam, who shook his head slightly to show he couldn’t read him.
“Who sent you?” Tobias demanded.
Still, the rogue said nothing, his hand tightening on the dagger. Before he could make a move, Liam closed the distance in a blur, disarming him effortlessly and pinning him to the ground.
“You have two choices,” Tobias said, crouching beside the rogue. “Tell us why you’re here, or we leave you here for the bears to find.”
The rogue hesitated before spitting out, “Magnus.”
The name hung in the air like a curse, tightening the tension around them. Tobias exchanged a glance with Mira, who growled low in her throat.
“He’s scouting for the camp,” Liam said grimly, stepping back as Tobias nodded.
“No witnesses,” Tobias said quietly.
The rogue’s eyes widened, but before he could protest, Daemon stepped forward and silenced him with a quick, lethal strike. The group was silent for a moment, the weight of their actions heavy but necessary.
“We need to move,” Daemon said firmly. “If he doesn’t report back, they’ll come looking.”
That night, the group found a secluded clearing to rest, the air still and heavy with unspoken thoughts. The youngsters huddled together, their earlier exuberance dampened by the seriousness of the day. Freya took a moment to sit with them, offering quiet reassurance.
“You did well today,” she said softly, her tone warm. “I know it’s hard, but you stayed strong.”
Kian nodded, his expression sombre but resolute. “We’ll do whatever it takes to protect you, Freya.”
“Not just me,” she replied gently. “Each other. We’re a team now.”
As the fire crackled softly in the centre of their camp, Finn leaned over to Nathan and whispered loudly, “Tomorrow, I’m bringing her a whole tree. Top that.”
Nathan snorted, earning an exasperated look from Liam, who muttered, “The Goddess save us all.”
Even Tobias allowed himself a small smile as he watched the group.
ALPHA-
The atmosphere in the Alpha’s office was tense as Rowen Shadowclaw leaned back in his leather chair, his sharp eyes fixed on the parchment in his hand. The reports were troubling, but not unexpected. The plans he had painstakingly built were at risk of crumbling, but he was already strategising his next moves.
The door slammed open without warning, and Luna Elise strode in, her elegant features set in a mask of cold fury. Her auburn hair was swept back into a tight braid, and her piercing blue eyes burned with anger.
“Rowen,” she said sharply, her voice cutting through the room like a blade. “What is going on?”
Rowen barely looked up, setting the parchment down with deliberate slowness. “What do you mean, Elise?” he asked, his tone smooth but dismissive.
“Don’t play coy with me,” Elise snapped, stepping closer to his desk. “I’ve heard the whispers. Freya, Tobias, and others have disappeared. My daughter is missing. And now I hear rumours—rumours—that you’ve allied yourself with other Alphas and Magnus, of all people! What are you planning, Rowen?”
Rowen’s jaw tightened, but he forced a calm expression. “Elise, you’ve always been one to listen to idle gossip. You know how the pack loves to spin tales.”
“This isn’t gossip,” Elise countered, slamming her hands onto his desk. “I’ve seen the way Victor is strutting around as if he owns the place. I’ve heard the warriors whispering about Freya and the others leaving. And now Isabelle? My own daughter is missing, and you expect me to believe it’s all just coincidence?”
Rowen’s eyes flicked to the door, ensuring it was shut before speaking. His voice lowered, cold and calculating. “Elise, I don’t have time for your dramatics. Isabelle is likely off sulking somewhere, plotting her next tantrum. She’s more trouble than she’s worth.”
Elise’s lips thinned, her anger boiling over. “How dare you? She’s your daughter!”
“She’s a liar,” Rowen said sharply, his patience thinning. “And a liability. If she’s not here, she’s less of a problem for me.”
Elise recoiled as if slapped, her anger replaced by shock. “Rowen… she’s your blood.”
“Blood means nothing without loyalty,” he replied coolly, leaning back in his chair. “And Isabelle has proven time and again where her loyalty lies—with herself.”
For a moment, the room was silent except for the ticking of the clock on the wall. Elise straightened, her voice trembling but resolute. “You may dismiss Isabelle as you like, but I won’t. She’s my daughter. And as for the rest of this madness—whatever plans you’re making, you’d better hope they don’t backfire.”
Rowen’s gaze hardened, his wolf growling faintly beneath the surface. “You’re treading dangerous ground, Elise.”
“So are you,” she shot back. “Don’t forget that I’ve stood by you for years, held this pack together while you plotted in the shadows. I won’t let you destroy everything we’ve built.”
Rowen stood abruptly, his towering figure casting a long shadow over her. “Watch yourself, Elise. You forget your place.”
She met his gaze unflinchingly, her voice a quiet challenge. “Do I?”
The tension crackled between them, but neither spoke again. Finally, Elise turned on her heel, her head held high as she left the room. As the door slammed shut behind her, Rowen exhaled sharply, his fist clenching at his side.
“Damn her,” he muttered, pacing the length of the room. He couldn’t afford any distractions—not from his Luna, not from Isabelle, and certainly not from the runaways.
But Elise’s words lingered, a faint echo of a threat he couldn’t quite dismiss. For all his cunning and control, there was one thing Rowen Shadowclaw knew—Luna Elise was not a woman to underestimate.
-FREYA-
The sun was just beginning to rise as the team reached the outskirts of the royal pack’s territory. The sight before them was breathtaking. Towering walls of white stone, adorned with intricate carvings of wolves and ancient symbols, stood as a testament to the strength and unity of the shifters who called this place home. The vast gates, flanked by two massive wolf statues, shimmered faintly in the morning light.
Freya shifted back into her human form, her lavender eyes fading into the hazel haze of her transformation. Tobias followed suit, quickly pulling his bag over his shoulder. The rest of the group shifted one by one, each of them feeling the weight of the moment as they stood together, united and determined.
“Look at that,” Finn murmured, his usual cheeky grin replaced with awe. “It’s… incredible.”
“It’s more than that,” Daemon said, his voice low. “This is where it all began.”
Before they could move closer, a group of royal border patrol guards emerged from the trees, their uniforms crisp and their expressions neutral but watchful. The leader, a tall man with dark hair and piercing green eyes, stepped forward. “You’re the group we’ve been expecting,” he said, his voice firm but not unkind. “Welcome to the Royal Pack.”
Freya stepped forward, her calm composure radiating an air of authority she had grown into over the journey. “Thank you. We’ve come a long way.”
The guard nodded. “We’ve been briefed. You’ll be escorted directly to the council and the king.” He turned his gaze to Alaric, his expression shifting slightly to one of recognition. “Councilman Alaric, your quarters are prepared.”
Alaric inclined his head in thanks, his eyes flicking to Mira. Without hesitation, he took her hand gently. “I’ll join the rest of you after I’ve settled Mira in,” he said, his voice quiet but certain.
Mira flushed slightly but didn’t protest as Alaric led her toward the sprawling buildings within the pack walls. The others watched them go, a mixture of knowing smiles and teasing glances exchanged.
“Finally,” Finn muttered, shaking his head. “Thought they’d never get a moment alone.”
Zara nudged him with her elbow, a smirk playing on her lips. “You’re one to talk.”
The group chuckled softly, but their laughter faded as the reality of their situation settled over them once again. Tobias stepped closer to Freya, his hand brushing hers for comfort. She squeezed his hand lightly, her gaze fixed on the towering gates ahead.
The guards motioned for them to follow, and together, they entered the royal pack’s grounds. The air inside was different—thicker with history, heavier with responsibility. The sound of their footsteps echoed faintly against the stone streets as they moved deeper into the heart of the territory.
The leader of the patrol stopped outside an imposing building adorned with the crest of the royal pack—a silver wolf howling against a full moon. “The council and the king are waiting,” he said, gesturing toward the grand doors.
Freya took a deep breath, her shoulders straightening. Tobias, Daemon, Liam, Zara, Finn, George, and the rest of the team followed close behind, their determination unwavering.
As the massive doors swung open, the group stepped into the hall, the weight of their journey and the battles yet to come pressing down on them. The air was thick with anticipation, and all eyes turned toward the end of the chamber, where the council and the Alpha King awaited.
-UNKNOWN-
Beyond the towering palace walls, four rogue scouts crouched in the shadows, their growls low and frustrated. They had arrived mere moments too late, the scent trail of the runaways leading directly through the now-closed gates. The weight of their failure was heavy, and they exchanged tense glances.
Each wolf understood the consequences of returning to Magnus or Alpha Rowen with this news. The punishment for such a failure would be swift—and brutal. One scout bared his teeth in a grim smile, and the others soon followed suit, their decision unspoken but unanimous. Without a word, they turned and bolted into the wilderness, their paws thudding against the earth as they ran—not toward home, but away. They may have failed, but they were not fools.
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