Freya’s POV
Being the Alpha's daughter was far from a privilege; it was a constant survival test. I never had the luxury of lowering my guard, knowing every minor misstep would invite immediate punishment. Everyone monitored my every move, consumed by the paranoid belief that I might undermine or outright usurp my brother’s birthright as the future Alpha—an accusation thrown at me endlessly.
“What’s that sound?” a servant muttered nearby.
“We might be under attack. Stay sharp,” I murmured.
The metallic scent of blood hung heavily in the air, causing my wolf to pace restlessly in the back of my mind. Still, I kept her leashed until I could verify the threat looming in the distance.
“Danger? Watch your tongue!” the servant snapped back. Even the domestic staff felt emboldened enough to disrespect me. It was a harsh reminder of how utterly worthless I was to everyone here.
My instincts, however, proved entirely accurate. Rebels struck our packhouse without warning, plunging the grounds into absolute chaos. All scrutiny and petty slander abruptly ceased as everyone scrambled frantically to stay alive. The insurgents occupied the very heart of the Sapphire Pack well past dawn, eventually breaching the main estate.
I was forced to take shelter inside the fortified core of our mansion, surrounded by a detail of elite warriors. Yet, safety felt entirely out of reach. We were the prime targets—the Alpha’s immediate family. The bitter irony wasn't lost on me: the smaller packs that had once begged my father for sanctuary and pledged absolute loyalty years ago were now leading the charge against us.
The air echoed relentlessly with agonizing howls, deep growls, and snarls. When the sound of splintering wood signaled that the rebels had forced their way into the mansion, I knew hiding was no longer an option. I had to fight.
“Freya!”
My nanny shrieked after me, but she was powerless to stop my momentum. Father and his remaining warriors were already locked in combat with the intruders. His magnificent golden wolf looked battle-weary and pressed to his limits. Without a second thought, I gave in to the shift. The torturous secret rituals I had endured in isolation over the past few nights had finally shattered the mental block, gifting me this physical form.
I charged into the fray, ripping and tearing into the rebel ranks, focusing particularly on those swarming my father. He had no clue I was present, let alone that I had finally unlocked my wolf. But whether he understood the surprise or not, I was here to keep him breathing.
“Freya?!” Father’s utter astonishment crashed through our mindlink.
“What on earth are you doing? You’re a girl, damn it—you should’ve stayed locked away!” my brother, Ryker, spat as he waded into the violence beside us. I hadn't even noticed his arrival. He was still barely seventeen, having only recently stepped into his wolf.
“Maybe you should’ve been the one hiding,” I shot back through the mental bond.
The tension escalated drastically when the mastermind behind the uprising, Asher himself, stepped forward to join the assault. This rebellion was deep-rooted; Father had been completely blind to the treachery festering within the minor packs he had long protected. Asher clearly had years of planning behind this coup. Blood smeared the walls and floors of the grand mansion, structural pillars cracked under the physical strain of shifting bodies, and the air filled with the groans of the dying. Ruin had descended upon the Sapphire Pack right before my eyes.
“Surrender now!” Asher’s voice sneered across our shared mental network.
“Never, not even if it takes my last breath,” Father growled back, his Alpha aura flaring fiercely as he fought to crush Asher and reclaim our home.
“So be it.” Asher grinned maliciously. “Kill his son!” he commanded, gesturing directly toward Ryker. The order sent a jolt of pure horror through us. Instead of pressing the attack against the Alpha, a wave of rebel fighters pivoted and swamped my brother.
I tore through every opponent in my path, desperately fighting toward the crushing circle around him. But I was too late. Ryker went completely limp as a barrage of fangs and claws ravaged his body, his form shifting back to human, coated in a thick layer of blood.
“Ryker?! My boy!” Father’s voice fractured into a raw, desolate howl of pure agony.
“You bloody bastards!” he roared, launching himself at Asher’s men with reckless, feral fury. The murder of his heir—the son meant to secure his legacy—had inflicted a wound far more lethal than any steel blade.
Though we managed to cut down a significant number of the insurgents, victory felt hollow while their ringleader still drew breath. I swept my gaze across the carnage, searching for the face of the enemy commander. Asher was nowhere to be found.
“Where is he?” I demanded through the mindlink, hailing the surviving warriors.
“He’s gone. Did he manage to slip away?” one of them replied hesitantly.
“Damn it,” I muttered under my breath, the taste of copper and defeat heavy on my tongue.
I needed to hunt down Asher and ensure he drew his last breath by my hands.
“Freya,” Father’s voice halted me as he shifted back into his human form. He was in critical condition, blood leaking from the edge of his mouth, crawling laboriously to evade the continuing onslaught of rebel fighters with his legs completely shattered. I immediately threw myself over a rogue wolf that lunged to finish him off.
“I can’t hold on much longer,” Father groaned. The formidable man who had projected iron-willed strength his entire life—especially toward me—was reduced to utter helplessness. I stood frozen, unsure how to process it. He had spent his whole life dismissing me, showering Ryker with affection while offering me nothing but cold neglect.
“I’m dying,” he choked out, tears finally breaking through. “Marry Aevren immediately so you have a shield to protect you.” His words came in ragged, painful gasps.
“We don’t love each other, Dad. This political arrangement will only bring misery.” For the first time in my life, I found the courage to push back.
“Freya, listen to me, only Aevren and his bloodline can salvage us from this ruin.” Father was desperate, pleading with his remaining strength. But my conviction held firm; I refused to bind myself to a man who felt nothing for me, knowing full well Aevren held the exact same disdain for my existence.
“For God’s sake, I can’t stand beside him. Even if the choice were entirely mine, I would reject him in every conceivable way!” I shouted over the din of the battle.
Since I was barely a toddler, Father had locked me into an engagement with Aevren, the heir of the After Dark Pack. It had always been a calculated, cynical alliance intended to bolster the Sapphire Pack’s political standing. In truth, the After Dark Pack merely used us as a disposable buffer against their enemies.
“If that is your final verdict, then listen to me: from this moment on, your name is Ryker. You will be my successor. Take this mask and carry the future of our pack forward.” With trembling fingers, Father nudged Ryker’s blood-spattered mask across the ruined floor. Crimson drooled from his lips, staining the wood even further. I stared at him in utter bewilderment, struggling to comprehend why he would demand I assume my dead brother’s identity.
“The pack requires an Alpha to survive. You are the Sapphire Pack’s only remaining lifeline. Lay aside your identity as a woman and step into the light as Ryker, our leader. My daughter,” he rasped, leaving me paralyzed by the absurdity and weight of his dying wish.
I was the outcast daughter whom the pack had marginalized, viewed with constant suspicion as a threat to my brother’s ascension. Yet here, at the edge of the grave, Father was handing me the crown.
“I can’t do this,” I whispered, shaking my head violently. I refused to desecrate Ryker’s memory by wearing his face and impersonating him to seize the throne.
“No one will ever discover the truth. Put on the mask and rule as Alpha,” Father insisted, ignoring my desperate headshakes. “Do it to safeguard our home,” he whispered, his life force visibly fading.
“Ryker, forgive your father, my boy. Protect our people,” he murmured, his mind slipping away as he accidentally called out to the son who already lay dead beside him, breathing his final, broken breath into the silence of the room.
With shaking hands, I lifted the mask from the bloodied floor. That single piece of porcelain had always symbolized the supreme authority of the Sapphire Pack's heir. For the survival of everything we had left, I buried my own identity, strapped the mask across my face, and stepped into my brother’s shoes.
No one else knew the true sequence of events, as I had been the sole witness to Father’s final moments.
Even the pack warriors clearing the carnage assumed the ruined body of the young male servant belonged to a casual casualty of the raid, entirely oblivious to the fact that the dead boy was actually Ryker, their intended future Alpha.
In truth, keeping the deception intact was made easier by pack history: ever since contracting a severe illness years ago that horribly disfigured his features, Ryker had been forced to conceal his face.
The pack elders had long comforted him, reassuring him that wearing a mask was a minor burden for a future leader.
“Ryker, tonight marks your formal coronation as Alpha. Make sure you are prepared,” Zane, my uncle and our trusted Beta, instructed as he approached.
I simply nodded, keeping my posture rigid while intentionally suppressing my voice so it wouldn't betray a woman's pitch. Zane furrowed his brow, tilting his head in confusion at my uncharacteristic silence. But as his gaze locked onto mine through the eyeholes of the mask, the color drained from his face and his eyes widened in sudden, horrifying realization. Zane had just seen straight through my disguise.
Freya's POV
"Be yourself, even if you keep wearing that mask," Zane murmured against my ear, his tone so low it was almost lost to the wind. I gave a slow nod. I had braced myself for his fury, yet his reaction caught me entirely off guard.
"Don't flatter yourself. Your freedom only lasts as long as your secret stays buried. If anyone ever figures out you're actually Freya, all bets are off," Zane cautioned. "So, let's strike a bargain," he whispered.
"What do you want?" I mustered every scrap of courage I had left.
"If your cover gets blown, I take over the Alpha's throne," Zane answered with chilling composure.
"Fine, it's a deal," I replied impulsively. I had no idea what my own future held, let alone what schemes this man might be plotting against me, but worrying about that could wait.
"Once the crown is officially yours, we're shipping you off to the Alpha academy," Zane added before walking away.
The funerals for the rebellion's victims were swift and understated, while Asher and his fellow conspirators remained on the run. Moving quickly, Zane reached out to every Alpha across Amberbridge Province, formally declaring that the Little Dragon Pack was severing all ties and protection from the Sapphire Pack.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we mourn the devastating betrayal that cost us our leader, Alpha Leonor, who fell defending us against the rebels. In his place, we proudly proclaim Ryker Henriette Zhask, Alpha Leonor's son, as the new head of the Sapphire Pack," Shein, a senior elder, announced to the pack, officially naming me as Ryker.
Only Zane knew the person sitting on the throne wasn't truly the male heir. We had agreed to keep the coronation subdued to limit public scrutiny. Zane had convinced the pack that celebrations were inappropriate given the recent mourning, sparing me from heavy festivities. He sought me out again the moment the ceremony concluded.
"Drink this," he commanded, holding out a small bottle.
"What is this?" I frowned, wrinkling my nose at the sharp, medicinal stench drifting from the glass.
"It will ruin your voice. You won't enjoy it, but it's the quickest way to mask your feminine tone," Zane replied smoothly. "And remember, Wilson has already reset the passwords, so you now have full control over all of Ryker's digital accounts."
"Wilson knows?" My heart hammered against my ribs; the more people looped in, the thinner the ice beneath me became. In Amberbridge, female Alphas were unheard of—a woman's ceiling was always meant to be Luna.
"I told him Ryker was paranoid about rebel hackers, which made getting his help a non-issue," Zane reassured me, instantly calming my racing pulse.
The following morning, I was dropped off at an elite institution reserved exclusively for prospective Alphas. I had already tightly bound my chest with cloth, a task made easier by my modest frame, while the medicine had successfully deepened my voice into the harsh rasp of a teenage boy hitting puberty. The campus was heavily isolated, its student body consisting entirely of young males training to be Alphas, Betas, and Gammas from packs all over Amberbridge. Outsiders were barred completely, with visits strictly limited to immediate family.
"With a bit of luck, you'll be out of here in twelve months, Ryker," Joshein remarked before he and the rest of the escort turned back toward Sapphire territory.
The climate here was brutal—scorching heat by day plunging into biting frost by night. While the exterior facade looked imposing, the interior told a much grimmer story, outdone by even the most basic public schools. The floors lacked proper concrete, the walls were crude stone, the roofs leaked with every rain, and the training grounds were neglected. Still, survival here was my only ticket to securing my place as Sapphire's true leader.
"Hold on!"
A commanding voice cut through the air, and I pivoted to find a striking young man around my age striding toward me.
"Who are you?" he demanded, pinning me with a sharp, analytical stare.
"Ryker," I answered, keeping my chin tilted upward. I knew well enough that an Alpha worth his salt never cowered before a stranger.
"I had a feeling the Sapphire Pack's fresh Alpha would end up in this place," he muttered, squinting at me with open suspicion. His gaze locked onto the mask concealing my face as he closed the distance between us. My instinct screamed at me to step back, to put distance between us before his piercing look saw straight through my disguise. Yet, an Alpha stepping down from intimidation was unheard of.
Instead, I feigned a casual pause to drop my heavy duffel bag onto the dirt, discreetly putting a barrier of space between us.
"Though I seriously doubt that rumored skin condition of yours is real," he murmured, his voice laced with accusation.
Ryker had always been forced to wear a mask to keep his face hidden, masking the supposed scars and pockmarks left behind by a disfiguring childhood illness.
"Do you want me to prove it by passing the infection right to you?" I sneered, intentionally twisting my voice into a low, threatening growl.
"Back off!" The young man jerked away, throwing his hands up in defense.
I let out a harsh, mocking laugh fit for a rival spoiling for a fight. The foul concoction Doctor Zerry had given me worked wonders, roughening my vocal cords enough to pass for a deep masculine register. Hearing myself laugh like that almost fooled me, too. Fheraen gave a disgusted shake of his head, entirely convinced he was looking at Ryker, the masked head of the Sapphire Pack—who was actually my late twin brother.
"Before you run off," I called out as he turned to leave, "you never mentioned the name of the guy arrogant enough to sneer right in my face."
"Fheraen," he shot back over his shoulder.
"Ruby Line Pack?" My eyes narrowed instantly. I recognized that name; it was practically all Dherael ever talked about. The notorious twin brothers were the sole reason the Ruby Line Pack remained locked in a vicious power struggle over the succession.
Fheraen gave a single, dismissive nod and walked away without looking back.
Life at the academy followed a brutal routine, punishingly strict for the pampered heirs of noble packs. Here, our bloodlines meant nothing; to the instructors, we were all just raw recruits expected to one day shoulder the burdens of leadership. By my first day of lectures, fate crossed my path with Fheraen once more. He had been appointed as the instructor's aide to bring me up to speed on pack administration, diplomacy, combat tactics, and conflict resolution.
"How's your swordsmanship holding up, Ryker?" Fheraen asked abruptly, tossing a heavy blade my way. Reflex took over, and I flinched, letting the weapon clatter uselessly onto the stone floor with a sharp ring. His eyebrows shot up in genuine astonishment.
The reality was simple: I had never touched a sword in my life. In the traditional ways of the Sapphire Pack, blade training was strictly boys-only. I couldn't admit the truth to Fheraen, but I knew everyone here assumed Ryker would have mastered the weapon long ago.
"My lessons were mostly focused on military theory," I replied after a brief pause, carefully smoothing over the lie. "I never had much patience for the practical side. Besides, I don't plan on fighting my own battles down the road."
Fheraen let out a dry chuckle at that. "Nobody goes looking for war, Ryker. But tragedy doesn't ask for permission. What happens if another rebellion hits your pack? Are you just going to sit it out?" His tone held more quiet wisdom than outright mockery, washing a wave of relief over me. At least he wasn't looking at me with active suspicion.
"My apologies," he added in a softer tone. "I didn't mean to bring up sensitive ground. Come on, let's work on the basics."
As Fheraen stepped forward to close the gap, my entire body locked up. Every time he invaded my personal space, a strange, unfamiliar flutter sparked deep within my chest—an entirely foreign sensation, tangled tightly with the icy grip of panic. What if he managed to strip away the mask? What if he discovered my entire existence was a fraud, that I wasn't an Alpha heir at all, but a sister wearing her dead brother's skin?
"Your grip on the pommel is completely wrong," he murmured, stepping closer to guide my hands into the correct posture. His voice dropped to a low, quiet intensity. "Let's just pray that if our packs ever go to war, ending your life won't be this easy. Every single flaw you've got is already burned into my memory."
"What is that supposed to mean?" I frowned, my stomach dropping. Was this the real reason Fheraen volunteered to mentor me? Was he studying me for weaknesses all along?
“Watch your step, Fheraen! You might catch something,” a voice echoed from the edge of the training grounds. We snapped our heads around.
To my absolute dismay, the figure standing there was Aevren, my own fiancé. Through the suffocating confines of my disguise, his true character finally bled through. Behind my back, he thought nothing of tearing Ryker down, mocking him with cruel impunity.
Yet, whenever our parents were in the room, he wore the flawless mask of a wise and compassionate gentleman.
“I doubt his scabies is that contagious—or maybe it’s just localized to his face,” Fheraen retorted casually.
I knew he wasn’t standing up for me; he was merely covering his own skin after accidentally brushing against my hand.
He was right, of course. Life at this academy was nothing less than a grueling dress rehearsal for the life awaiting me. Indirectly, I was being conditioned to analyze future alphas, betas, and gammas from rival packs, learning the hard way how to navigate institutional cruelty. Unlike my days back at the Sapphire Pack, private moments were practically extinct. My top priority remained absolute vigilance, ensuring no one ever saw through the boyish facade I wore like armor.
“Ryker, care to wash up with me?” Fheraen’s sudden question caught me off guard. I had just finished readjusting the tight binding cloth wrapped around my chest to flatten my figure.
“As tempting as that sounds, surely you know scabies spreads easily through shared water, Fheraen,” I replied, smoothly deflecting his offer. I always made it a point to finish my bathing routine before the rest of the men, usually slipping away while they were distracted by communal meals.
“Right, I keep forgetting,” Fheraen clicked his tongue in mild annoyance. “Just make sure you’ve got my essay finished by the time I get back,” he added with a firm reminder.
Academic chores like that were child’s play to me. With seamless access to the campus network and the library, I knocked out his papers effortlessly. Long before stepping foot in this academy, I used to sneak into the Sapphire Pack’s restricted archives just to devour books. While Ryker was spoon-fed a comprehensive elite education, my academic diet had been strictly restricted to basic literacy.
My father had spared no expense, flying in specialized tutors from every discipline to groom Ryker. Meanwhile, I was barred from entering even standard classrooms back home. Father had been terrified that my natural aptitude would overshadow Ryker or threaten his birthright as the future alpha.
Consequently, I was legally and socially forbidden from ever outshining him.
“I only just found out you’re slated to be Aevren’s future brother-in-law,” Fheraen remarked, striding over with nothing but a towel slung low around his waist, displaying a broad, muscular chest.
“I wouldn't say I'm celebrating Freya’s passing, but I am at least thankful she’ll never have to tie herself to him,” I countered, subtly reminding Fheraen of how callously Aevren had just mocked Ryker’s affliction.
“Didn’t your sister have high hopes for that match?” Fheraen asked, his curiosity piqued.
“I suspect Freya simply felt she had no alternative. Had I possessed even a fraction of the authority my father wields, I would have severed that engagement myself. I have zero tolerance for arrogant, toxic in-laws.”
Swallowing down the bitter resentment I harbored toward Aevren, I also had to project the calm, composed demeanor expected of a future male pack leader. I spoke with deliberate poise, mirroring the expected masculine grace. Above all, I had to master swordplay and marksmanship, because a man’s honor in these packs was still heavily weighed by his prowess with steel—even if, in actual warfare, Sapphire Pack members could simply shift into their feral wolf forms.
“You’ll be calling all the shots once you take the alpha seat,” Fheraen reassured me with a grin.
And he was entirely right. Once I claimed my rightful place as alpha, the restrictions would finally lift. For now, my strategy was simple: dodge Aevren at all costs and focus entirely on survival and combat mastery.
I spent hours dissecting Fheraen’s techniques with broadswords, hunting knives, composite bows, and spears. Despite his cocky demeanor, he was fiercely skilled—though he frequently bragged that his twin brother was even deadlier.
Every single member of the Ruby Line Pack was drilled relentlessly in weaponry, largely because their strict territorial borders prevented them from shifting into wolves the moment they stepped off home ground.
For four grueling months at this academy, Fheraen’s constant presence had simply become a fixture of my daily routine. That was until the morning I discovered he had vanished without a single word of goodbye. I checked our quarters, searched the library, and scoured both the surrounding timberland and the riverbanks, but he had completely disappeared from the grounds.
“Fheraen’s term here is over. He’s not coming back,” Aevren murmured, approaching me with an unsettling familiarity, as if he could read my thoughts. It caught me off guard; he rarely ever initiated contact.
“What, were you tailing me?” I snapped back, my tone dripping with bitter sarcasm.
“I merely came to offer my condolences regarding your sister’s passing,” Aevren replied smoothly, though his expression remained completely detached, devoid of any genuine sorrow.
A crooked, cynical smile tugged at the corner of my lips. He wasn't mourning; he was celebrating. Her tragic death had instantly nullified our formal engagement.
“Shouldn’t I be the one offering condolences, considering you’re the one who just lost a fiancée?” I retorted, my voice turning glacial.
Aevren inhaled sharply, his nostrils flaring as he tested the air like a predator catching an unfamiliar scent. His face suddenly drained of color, his lips trembling slightly as a razor-sharp gaze locked onto me. Before I could blink, his hand lunged forward to yank off my mask, but I batted his wrist away instantly.
“I recognize that scent,” he whispered, the realization weighing heavily on every syllable.
I recoiled a step, certain that my masquerade had finally collapsed. Yet, I forced myself to hold my ground—I couldn't afford a breakdown here, nor could I let him expose me before I was fully prepared to claim the Sapphire Pack leadership on my own terms.
“You aren’t Ryker! How the hell have you been pulling off this farce?” Aevren breathed out, his lips quivering as he struggled to process the shock.
“So what if I am? I orchestrated this whole charade just to break free from you, Aevren!” I forced the words past my tight throat, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs.
Aevren sneered, recovering his composure with a venomous hiss. “The academy leaders will execute you the moment they find out.”
And, of course, he wasn’t wrong. This institution was strictly reserved for future pack rulers, exclusively future alphas, and every single enrolled student was legally mandated to be male.
“Your own father would skin you alive if he caught wind of how many pack girls you’ve defiled and gotten pregnant behind closed doors, Aevren,” I fired back, meeting his threat with a devastating counter.
“I’m deadly serious. I’ll send a direct courier to the After Dark Pack tonight and lay out every single detail for your father. So keep your mouth shut about who I am,” I warned, my voice hardening into an unyielding ultimatum as he stood frozen in stunned silence.
“My younger brother is still an infant; I’m Alpha Nolan’s only viable successor,” Aevren scoffed, his arrogance returning in full force. It was that exact intolerable ego that made me despise him so deeply: reckless, entitled, hedonistic, and perpetually drunk on privilege. Fortunately, the Moon Goddess had shown mercy by blessing Luna Alice with another son, ensuring a backup heir existed should Aevren prove utterly unfit to rule.
“Your father is still in his prime. He has more than enough time to raise and mold your baby brother into a proper leader,” I countered, a triumphant edge to my tone.
“Get a grip, Aevren. You don't need to feel threatened just because we happen to share classrooms, nor do you need to feel insecure about my claim to the Sapphire Pack. Surely your masculinity isn’t that fragile,” I added, delivering each word with deliberate, calculated precision.
“Keep my secret buried, or I’ll ensure your father finishes you off,” I whispered my final warning before turning on my heel and leaving him standing alone in the corridor.
That intense confrontation with Aevren momentarily shoved Fheraen from my mind. Because the academy admitted new cohorts twice a year, faces constantly rotated in and out. Boys arrived and departed with the seasons. Yet none of them mattered, because the only departure that genuinely gutted me was Fheraen’s.
“Damn it all,” I let out a ragged breath, suddenly hit by the bitter realization that Fheraen had only ever known me as Ryker, as a brother in arms. He had never truly seen the face hidden beneath my mask.
