Iris' POV

Daisy's eyes are still huge as she stares at the visible mark on my neck.

"Oh! This is bad! So bad!" she groans. "And by bad, I mean in all the hot ways possible, but also in the most life-altering ways."

"Thanks for your well-detailed explanation, Daisy," I mumble, walking around her to the door. I am dressed in a different outfit than I came in with yesterday, but I know the chances of asking for my dress are non-existent.

For starters, I don't know where Darian is, and I don't think he wants me to find him. Even if I could, the building is crawling with soldiers. I will be tossed out before I move an extra inch.

"Iris," my best friend calls after me, placing her hand on mine before I twist the handle open. "I know you know nothing about the Lycans and..."

"Yeah! You're right. And up till a few minutes ago, I had no idea you knew about them too." I always thought I knew Daisy like the back of my palm. Apparently, I was wrong. I have been clueless about a lot of things.

"I can explain," she says in one breath. "But that isn't important right now. You need to understand that marking for us is sacred. It doesn't just happen to anyone, most especially the Lycans. Theirs come with precision, so if Darian marked you, even by accident, it means something."

"It doesn't mean anything." I feel a knot working its way to my throat. "He left me here. He walked away like I was nothing, after .... I probably am nothing. Hell, I couldn't even keep Archer to myself."

"Wait. What?"

So much has happened that I forget Daisy doesn't know everything.

"Archer..."

"Not here," she cuts in, then grabs my hand, pulling me with her out of the room. We walk through the long and silent hallway without making a sound, and as if falling out of the shadows, we are suddenly flanked by soldiers in the same uniform as the one I saw from the window.

None of them pay us any attention until we are outside, the morning sun settling on our skins.

And even at that, they don't stop until we cross the iron-wrought gates. They close behind us without a single groan.

"Damn! I see why this place is called a haven. It looks like luxury and the apocalypse all joined as one."

I barely hear Daisy as we walk to her car, because I keep turning back to the gates, hoping I will see him looking out of one of those high windows, his eyes locked on mine, just as they were inside.

But all I see are panes of glass glinting under the harsh glare of the sun.

Daisy doesn't say anything else throughout the ride until she pulls up in front of the apartment we share, very close to the campus. She looks at me warily as I trudge inside, leaving the door open behind me.

"Iris," she murmurs softly, just as I drop onto the couch.

"What?"

"You wanted to tell me about Archer. What happened last night? Did he show up?"

I scoot to the edge of the couch. "Tell me about yourself first. Are you a Lycan, like Darian? Is his brother a Lycan too? Is it like a family thing?"

She nods in understanding. "The book I asked you to read in the library about Lycans and werewolves, I didn't ask you to do that because I wanted to introduce you to fantasy like I'd claimed. I wanted you to know who I was...and now, who you are."

"How? I cannot be... It is impossible."

"It is possible," she pushes, coming to sit beside me. "My father has told me stories similar to yours, where a human suddenly wakes up their dormant genes inside of them. I don't know where you got it from yet, but there has to be someone."

"And you think I wouldn't have noticed?" I ask, with disdain dripping from my tone.

Daisy gives me a look as if to say she has been beside me for years, and I wasn't able to tell that she was different from me.

"Your sister and your parents are human," she confirms. "They have passed the age of shifting, so nothing can change about them. You, on the other hand..."

"What about me?"

"It's strange." Daisy rises to her feet, pacing our little living area. "You are past the age of shifting, too. Everyone starts shifting when they turn fifteen. Some delay for a year or more, but it is usually never more than three years."

"I am twenty-two, four years past shifting."

"Exactly," she murmurs, stroking her chin like she does each time she's thinking. "I have to ask the pack what this means..."

"The pack?"

"The Crystal Dome Pack. Every territory has a pack."

"I can't believe this is real," I breathe.

Daisy stops in front of me. "Focus, Iris. I am sure that the Lycan prince did not find you by accident. Did he tell you..."

"He said I called out to him."

"There has to be a connection somewhere. You shifted because of him, or he felt you because you were shifting."

I feel a migraine coming. Pressing two fingers against my temple, I get off the couch and make to go into my room.

But suddenly, the headache gets worse, slamming into my skull like a sledgehammer. I grip the couch beside me as I fall to the wooden floor.

"Iris?" Daisy appears by my side in one second, her arms nudging me. "Iris, what is wrong? What is it?"

I try to tell her that I am fine, that it will pass. But my vision slowly blurs until she becomes a tiny dot. And then I hear the voice.

Not mine. Not Daisy's.

"She knows that she's been marked. The process has begun. You need to move fast if you're going to save yourself."

Iris' POV

The buzz of students chatting in the hallway carries over to me, louder than usual. But I have gotten used to that part of the new me. Today, I have a new destination in mind, my face locked in utter concentration.

"Are you sure you are fine?" Daisy asks for the umpteenth time. "What if the headache comes back?"

"I'm fine, Daisy. Your dad said so himself. At least, now that I know I have a longer life span than the average human, I don't think a mere headache is going to make me drop dead."

"This isn't about the headache, and you know it." The urgency in Daisy's tone makes me halt. "There's something else, right?"

"Daisy, I told you already. It was just for a few minutes. I can barely remember what it felt like."

"When you opened your eyes, you were shocked, like you'd seen something..."

Daisy doesn't know how close to the truth she is, but for some reason, I don't want to tell her what I heard. Even though I am still learning the ropes of this world I have been plunged into, while keeping my family away from it, those words I heard sounded ominous.

I could feel the danger rippling through space. Nobody else needed to feel that with me.

If only Darian would talk to me.

I haven't seen him since the last time, which was over a week ago. If I don't have heightened senses, and if the mark on my neck isn't still so visible, currently covered by a scarf, I just might have thought I imagined every single thing that happened.

He has returned to the shadows, his name living only on the lips of the students. But I still feel him, in the pulsing of the mark, in my wolf in the middle of the night, and those days when all I want to do is head to the Lycans' Haven to see him.

My best friend has kept me from doing that. She says the Lycan kind isn't the most amicable.

The person I have been searching for finally comes into view. He is heading to the cafeteria, walking alone as usual. Everyone seems to avoid him, but he looks just fine with that.

I am about to head in his direction when suddenly, someone blocks my path.

"Iris, have you been avoiding me?"

I look up at him, narrowing my gaze. "Avoiding you? Why would I do that?"

Archer sighs dramatically, and in this moment, I wonder what I saw in him in the first place. "What happened on the night of our anniversary? You were totally off your hinges. I was scared you would hurt her."

I scoff. "So, you're here to talk to me because of her."

He steps closer. "I know that you've always thought we would end up together, but I was only with you because I didn't want to hurt you."

"Hurt me?" I cannot find the pain that crosses my chest each time we have this conversation. Instead, I feel so indifferent. "Archer, you have been hurting me for years. You have never been faithful to me, yet I tolerated it. I thought...Hell, I was so stupid."

He stops, realization dawning on him. "What are you saying?"

"Go be with Sabine. I don't care."

 "Iris," he laughs with unease. "I know you are in love with me, but..."

"But Sabine is your mate."

His head jerks up in surprise.

"And I was in love with you, Archer. A feeling I regret right now. Standing in front of you makes me want to gag."

That is when I remember that Daisy is right by my side. She chokes out in a fit of laughter, earning a glare from Archer. But he knows better than to touch the Beta's daughter.

"Iris, how did you..."

"I don't have time to explain anything to you," I say in a hurry, just as I catch the loner disappearing into a corner.

"I'll catch up with you, Daisy!" I call above my shoulders as I increase my pace, praying he hasn't left.

I meet him leaning against the wall, scrolling through his phone. When I stand in front of him, he looks up, not because he has the time to entertain a conversation, but because no one in this entire college speaks to him.

The McAlister brothers are held to a different standard, and I have always thought it had something to do with their looks. Now, I know better.

He blinks, putting his phone away slowly. "Are you lost?"

"I need you to help me talk to your brother," I pour out in one breath, before I can lose the confidence I have barely gathered.

A smirk graces his flawless features, and a mischievous glint appears in his eyes. "What has Zeus done again?"

"Not Zeus. Shit! How many brothers do you have?"

"Three." He has a lazy smile now. "Zeus is usually the troublemaker, if you're not counting me."

"Darian," I whisper. The mere mention of his name makes my skin crawl in want. "I need to see him."

Adrian raises a brow. "The Lycan prince. You sure set your standard high, girl."

"Adrian, please. It's really important. I ..." Adrian angles his head, and for a second, I actually think he can see through the scarf on my neck. "I really have to talk to him, and I know I can't come into the Lycans' Haven without an invitation."

He leans in closer, and I can see the striking resemblance he has to Darian. They all have god-like features, like the moon goddess took an extra day to make them.

"You're pretty," he says casually as he pulls away, like he is talking about the weather. "So, you won't get mad when I tell you not to get all hung up on Darian."

"Why?"

"He is the Lycan Prince. He has duties that he has to fulfil."

Adrian pulls himself off the wall. "And he is the coldest McAlister. All he knows how to do is ruin everything in his path."

ADRIAN

The scent of roasted venison hits me first, rich, seasoned, and impossible to ignore. I step into the dining room a beat too late, and sure enough, all three of them are already seated. Father sits at the head of the long mahogany table like a carved statue of disapproval. Zeus slouches across from Darian, his boots kicked up like he owns the place. Darian, as always, sits like a shadow, silent, unreadable.

"You're late. Again," Father says without looking up from his plate.

I scratch the back of my head with a lazy grin. "Got... caught up with something."

Zeus snorts. "Let me guess. Another one of your charming 'entanglements'? Half the female population at college thinks you belong to them."

I roll my eyes as I sink into the chair beside Darian. "You're just jealous because you can't hold a conversation without scaring them off."

"Please," Zeus fires back, cocking a brow. "They line up for me. I just don't waste time with shallow distractions."

"You mean, they used to line up before your brooding complex scared them into therapy."

Zeus opens his mouth to retort, but Father's voice slices through the table. "Enough."

Instantly, the tension dulls. We all fall in line when he speaks.

I glance sideways at Darian. His expression hasn't changed. Still cold. Still distant.

I dig into the venison just as Father shifts his attention to Darian.

"How's the defense plan for the Crestwood pack coming along?"

Darian doesn't hesitate. "I've devised a new strategy. During the last rogue encounter, I noticed a pattern in how they break formation. If we station warriors at key elevation points here, here, and here," he gestures in the air like the battlefield is right in front of him, "we can cut off their retreat and push them back before they swarm."

I glance up, chewing slowly. The guy lives and breathes war maps.

Zeus leans back in his chair. "That's not new. I've read about that formation before. In the Bloodfang records. Page 238."

Of course.

I don't even look at Darian. I already know that twitch in his jaw is there. Zeus never misses a chance to cut in, always jabbing, always desperate to knock Darian down a peg. Doesn't matter that Darian's the eldest, the heir. Zeus wants the crown badly enough to burn bridges.

"Then maybe you should go find a book to talk to," Darian says, his voice cool but sharp. "I'm speaking."

The air shifts. Even Father pauses.

Zeus scowls but doesn't say anything else.

Darian continues like nothing happened. But I can see the heat in his eyes now. He may be calm, but he's not ecstatic about that interruption.

"You're brothers," Father says, his voice calm but firm. "Not opponents in an arena. Our enemies are out there, not at this table."

His gaze lands on Darian. "Your strategy is sound. Implement it. The Crescent Ridge pack will benefit from the reinforcements."

I don't have to look far to see Zeus's reaction. His hand tightens around his knife like he's thinking about using it, just not on food. His jaw flexes, and there's that flicker of fire behind his eyes. Silent fury.

I sigh. Here we go again.

"Well," I say, raising my glass a little. "Another peaceful family dinner. Can't wait for dessert and the next fight over whose turn it is to be Alpha."

No one laughs.

Father glares. Zeus scowls. Darian just cuts into his steak with surgical precision.

I lean back, forcing a grin. "Tough crowd."

This is always how it is, with Kelvin and I getting caught in the endless crossfire between Darian's duty-bound stoicism and Zeus's relentless hunger for more.

Sometimes I think we're the only ones in this family who remember how to breathe without a crown choking the air out of me.

Darian wipes his mouth neatly with his napkin, then leans forward slightly, composure etched into every movement.

"The rogues aren't just scattered anymore," he says calmly, continuing like a war hadn't almost broken out right on this table. "They're grouping in dead zones, territories long abandoned. That kind of coordination doesn't happen without leadership. Someone is pulling the strings."

Father's brows draw together slightly, listening closely.

"I've already sent scouts to monitor the southern ridge," Darian continues. "We'll set up a rotating patrol system with smaller, agile units. Hit them fast, move faster. No more waiting to be ambushed."

I was impressed despite myself.

"Rogue activity near Crescent Ridge is likely a distraction," Darian adds. "Their target is broader. Possibly us."

Father nods, approval clear. "Well done. Move forward with it."

I swear I hear Zeus grind his teeth.

The air shifts again. Darian doesn't seek praise, but when he receives it, it slices straight through Zeus like a blade. Our father's favor is an unspoken war trophy, and Darian just claimed it again without breaking a sweat.

Zeus stands slowly, pushing his chair back with a screech that makes my shoulders tense.

"You better hope your little strategy holds," he mutters, voice low and venomous, a smile that didn't reach his eyes etched in his face, "when the blood starts spilling."

He walks out without waiting for a reply, his footsteps sharp against the marble floor.

I watch him go, wondering just how much longer this rivalry can simmer before it boils over.

Beside me, Darian doesn't even glance up. He just keeps eating, every bite louder in the silence. Cold. Calculated.

Father stands next, his chair scraping back as he gives Darian one final nod. "Keep me updated."

Without another word, he strides out of the dining room, Kelvin following closely behind. The room falls into a strange, heavy quiet.

Now it's just me and Darian. Still as stone. Still eating.

I shift in my seat, wondering if now's a good time. The words hover at the edge of my tongue, itching to be said.

Iris.

The girl with the scarf wrapped tight around her neck and eyes that can't lie even when her mouth does. There's something there, something I saw in the way she spoke about him.

I lean back, tilting my head slightly, watching Darian from the corner of my eye.

I open my mouth to speak, but  I stop myself.

Now isn't the right time, I think to myself.

For now, the question stays buried. But I'll ask eventually. Because whatever's going on with him and Iris is not nothing. And I don't like being the only one in the dark.