-MAGNUS-
The rogue camp was quieter than usual, the crackle of a dying fire the only sound that broke the night. Magnus stood at the edge of the clearing, his broad shoulders casting long shadows in the moonlight. His grey eyes scanned the darkness, their usual sharpness softened by the flicker of firelight.
From the shadows, Isabelle stepped into the clearing. Her auburn hair gleamed, her confident stride faltering only slightly as she caught sight of Magnus. The rogue leader turned slowly, his lips curling into a faint, amused smirk.
“So,” he drawled, his voice smooth as silk. “The Alpha’s daughter graces me with her presence.”
Isabelle tilted her chin up, ignoring the slight quiver in her chest at the weight of his gaze. “I’ve come to talk.”
Magnus crossed his arms, his towering form making her feel small despite herself. “By all means. Talk.”
Isabelle hesitated for a moment, then stepped closer, her voice lowering. “Freya doesn’t belong in the pack. She’s a threat. To my family, to our standing, to everything we’ve built.”
Magnus raised an eyebrow, his expression one of mild amusement. “And you think I can help with that?”
“You’re the leader of the rogues,” Isabelle said firmly. “You’ve already tried to take her once. I can help you succeed next time.”
Magnus’s smirk deepened, his grey eyes glinting with a dangerous light. “How generous of you.”
Isabelle’s jaw tightened, but she pushed on. “You don’t understand. She’s—” She caught herself, realising she didn’t actually know what Freya was. She only knew her presence threatened everything she’d worked for. “She’s dangerous.”
Magnus chuckled, the sound low and rumbling. “Oh, I understand more than you think.” He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “But tell me, Isabelle. What’s in this for you?”
Isabelle’s cheeks flushed slightly, and she squared her shoulders. “Power,” she said boldly. “With Freya gone, the pack will be stronger under my father’s leadership. And when the time comes, I’ll have the power to take his place.”
Magnus’s gaze lingered on her, his amusement shifting into something darker. “Ambitious,” he murmured. “I like that.”
Isabelle’s confidence swelled at his words, and she allowed herself a small, triumphant smile. “So, do we have a deal?”
Magnus didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he reached out, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from her face. Isabelle froze, her breath hitching as his touch sent a shiver down her spine.
“We’ll see,” he said softly, his tone both enticing and dangerous. “For now, I’ll consider your… offer.”
Isabelle swallowed hard, nodding quickly. “Good.”
As she turned to leave, Magnus’s smirk returned, colder and sharper than before. He watched her retreating form with calculating eyes, already weighing how he could use her to further his plans.
-LYRA-
From her perch near the edge of the camp, Lyra watched the exchange, her heart sinking. She had followed Magnus out of concern, suspecting he was up to something, but she hadn’t expected this. Isabelle, the Alpha’s daughter, conspiring with him? It was a complication she hadn’t foreseen.
Lyra’s grip tightened on the leather-bound book in her hands. The prophecy had always been a source of unease for her, its words a constant reminder of the danger Freya represented—not just to Magnus, but to all of them.
When the moon burns twice as bright…
Two wolves shall rise in shadow’s light.
The words echoed in her mind, each line a puzzle she couldn’t fully piece together. But one thing was clear: Freya was at the centre of it. And Magnus, with his blind ambition, was determined to use her.
Lyra turned away, her heart heavy. She had followed Magnus for years, stood by him through every battle, every hardship. But this… this was different. His obsession with Freya was consuming him, driving him toward a path that would only end in destruction.
She slipped through the trees, her steps silent as she made her way back to her tent. The whispers grew louder around her as she moved, their fragmented voices carrying an urgency she couldn’t hear but sensed.
Lyra stared at the book in her hands, its pages worn and fragile. The words of the prophecy stared back at her, unyielding and cryptic.
The rogue king’s reign shall meet its end,
By claw, by fang, as packs defend.
But beware the whispers, the turning tide,
For betrayal and power walk side by side.
Her fingers trembled as she traced the words. Magnus had always seen himself as the rogue king in the prophecy, the one destined to unite the rogues and rise to power as a legitimate werewolf king. Rogue status forgotten. But Lyra wasn’t so sure anymore. The prophecy spoke of two wolves, their bond unbreakable, their strength unmatched.
Freya and someone else.
Lyra exhaled shakily, her decision crystallising. Magnus was wrong. He didn’t see the danger he was courting by pursuing Freya. But Lyra did. And she couldn’t stand by and let him destroy everything they had built.
She rose to her feet, the book clutched tightly to her chest. She didn’t know how she would reach Freya, or if the girl would even listen. But she had to try.
As she moved toward the edge of the camp, the whispers grew louder and she heard them in her mind, their cadence matching the rhythm of her heartbeat. “Follow your heart,” they seemed to say. “Follow your soul.”
Lyra’s jaw tightened, her resolve hardening. She was risking everything—her loyalty, her safety, her life. But she couldn’t let Magnus’s ambition destroy them all.
Freya had to know the truth.
– TOBIAS-
Freya sat cross-legged on the edge of the bed, her gaze fixed on Tobias as he stood near the wardrobe. The warm glow of the setting sun filtered through the curtains, casting golden light over his bare skin. His shirt lay discarded on the floor, leaving his chiselled torso on full display. Every muscle shifted and flexed as he reached for a clean shirt, his movements effortless and confident.
Her wolf stirred in the back of her mind, a warm hum of approval radiating through her. Tobias was beautiful—there was no denying it. But it wasn’t just his appearance that held her attention. It was the way he carried himself, the quiet strength that made her feel safe, even when the world around her felt uncertain.
He glanced over his shoulder and caught her staring. A slow grin spread across his face, mischievous and teasing. “See something you like?” he asked, his voice low and playful.
Freya felt her cheeks heat, but instead of looking away, she tilted her chin up defiantly. “Maybe,” she said, her tone light but her heart pounding in her chest.
Tobias chuckled, turning fully to face her. “Only maybe?” He stepped closer, his blue eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and something deeper. “I’ll have to try harder, then.”
Freya’s lips twitched into a small smile, her blush deepening. But she didn’t let her nerves win. Rising to her feet, she took a slow step toward him, then another. Her fingers trembled slightly as she reached out, trailing them down his chest, her touch light and deliberate. His skin was warm under her fingertips, his heartbeat steady and strong.
Tobias froze, his grin fading as her touch ignited a fire in his chest. His wolf stirred, its need for her surging to the surface. “Freya,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. He didn’t dare move, afraid that even the slightest shift would break the spell.
She looked up at him, her hazel eyes shining with a mix of determination and vulnerability. “It’s time,” she said softly, her voice steady despite the nervous flutter in her chest.
Tobias’s breath caught, his blue eyes searching hers. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice rough with emotion.
Freya nodded, her lips curving into a small, reassuring smile. “Yes.”
For a moment, Tobias didn’t move, as though he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. But then, with a low, rumbling growl, he scooped her up in his arms. Freya gasped softly, her arms wrapping instinctively around his neck as her legs went around his waist. The heat of his body seeped into hers, sending a shiver down her spine.
Tobias held her close, his forehead resting gently against hers. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.
Freya smiled, her fingers threading through the hair at the nape of his neck. “I think I do,” she whispered, her lips brushing against his in the faintest of kisses.
Tobias growled softly, his control slipping as he carried her toward the bed. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of them and the bond that pulsed between them, growing stronger with every heartbeat.
As he started to lay her down gently, the warmth of his presence enveloping her, the moonlight streaming through the window cast a soft glow over them. In that moment, nothing else mattered.
The future could wait. This was their moment.
Tobias was still holding Freya close when the sharp knock at the door shattered the stillness. His head snapped toward the sound, a low growl escaping his throat.
“Tobias,” George’s voice came from the other side, calm but urgent. “We have a situation.”
Freya stiffened slightly, her gaze flicking to Tobias. He sighed, reluctantly pulling away from her and setting her feet on the floor. His fingers lingered on hers for a moment longer before he stood, the sharpness in his eyes returning as his wolf stirred beneath the surface.
Tobias opened the door, his expression darkening as he took in George’s tense stance. “What is it?” he asked, his voice low.
George hesitated for a brief moment before stepping inside and closing the door behind him. “The border patrol just sent word. They saw Isabelle sneaking back over the border from rogue territory,” he said grimly.
Tobias’s jaw tightened, his wolf bristling with irritation. “Is she trying to get herself killed?” he muttered, his tone clipped.
“That’s not all,” George continued, his voice lowering. “There’s a rogue woman with them. She’s asking to speak to Freya. Urgently.”
Freya’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of her name. She stood from the bed, her nerves flaring as she stepped closer to Tobias and George. “A rogue? Who?” she asked, her voice steady despite the unease curling in her stomach.
“They didn’t give a name,” George said, his eyes narrowing slightly. “But they say she seems… desperate. Said something about warning you.”
Tobias growled, his protectiveness flaring as he turned to Freya. “You’re not meeting her alone.”
“I wasn’t planning to,” Freya said, her gaze unwavering. “But if she has a warning, I need to hear it.”
George nodded, his expression serious. “I’ll handle Isabelle with the Alpha and figure out what she was doing on rogue lands. Tobias, stay with Freya and bring her to the patrol. We need to move quickly.”
Freya placed a hand on Tobias’s arm, grounding him as his wolf growled low in his throat. “Let’s go,” she said softly, her determination clear.
Tobias nodded sharply, his blue eyes meeting hers with a mixture of concern and resolve. “Stay close,” he said, his voice soft but firm.
As the three of them moved out of the room, the air was thick with tension. Freya’s mind raced with questions, but one thought stood out above the rest: whoever this rogue was, and whatever warning she carried, it couldn’t be ignored.
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