“You’ve dragged this pack’s name through the mud, Killian.”

Alpha Gallagie’s roar echoed through the great hall.

“I gave you the right to choose your own luna, yet you rejected her on the very day of your wedding. Do you think this pack exists for your amusement? Look outside these walls. All of Amberbridge is laughing at your stupidity.”

Killian stood in silence before the fury of the Alpha of the Glass Fire Pack.

The scandal surrounding Monica’s rejection had damaged more than gossip. It had weakened the prestige of their entire bloodline.

Even so, Killian held to the vow he had made long ago.

When he finally accepted a luna, it would be a woman he truly wanted beside him, not someone taken out of duty or necessity as Monica had been.

“Monica was never worthy of standing beside me, Father,” Killian said evenly. “I know exactly what kind of woman she is.”

To him, Monica was nothing more than an opportunist with a polished image.

He knew she was involved with Daniel, one of the richest men at the university, despite already receiving a generous scholarship. In Killian’s eyes, it proved greed and weak character.

“Is that what this is about?” Alpha Gallagie shot back. “Because you think she is beneath you?”

He stepped closer, voice sharpened like steel.

“Or did she reject you in private, and you cast her aside first to save your pride?”

Killian’s jaw tightened.

“Rumors say one thing louder than the rest,” the Alpha continued. “You failed to conquer her, Killian.”

With that, he turned and strode away, leaving Killian alone in the heavy silence.

The accusation lingered.

Failed to conquer Monica?

The thought irritated him more than it should have.

Why would he care?

She had only been a convenient choice. A suitable woman selected to satisfy an ancient requirement and prevent calamity on the thousandth anniversary of his grandfather’s death, the former Alpha.

Killian would never admit that no woman had ever truly moved him.

None had met the impossible standards he carried.

On paper, Monica had seemed nearly flawless. Beautiful. Intelligent. Polite. Academically spotless.

Then there was Daniel.

The fact that Monica willingly belonged to a man like him filled Killian with contempt he could not fully explain.

Needing distance from his father’s anger, Killian headed for the outer border of pack territory.

The omega guards were stationed near the river that cut through the forest. It served as both natural defense and territorial line for the Glass Fire Pack.

Beyond the water stretched forbidden land.

A cursed forest.

Anyone who traveled too deeply into it had never returned. No pack had managed to claim it.

“Where is everyone?” Killian asked when he found only Zayn waiting there.

“Shift rotation,” Zayn replied. “I’m first watch this morning. I can summon the others if needed.”

Killian gave a distracted nod. Between university demands and pack obligations, he rarely kept track of changing patrol schedules.

Then both men froze.

Crunch.

Something had stepped on dry branches somewhere inside the trees.

Killian’s senses sharpened instantly. Zayn stiffened beside him.

Then silence.

“What was that?” Killian growled. “We lost it.”

“We need backup.”

Zayn immediately sent a mindlink call through the pack.

Within minutes, omegas and warriors flooded the riverbank.

“What is happening here?”

Alpha Gallagie’s commanding voice silenced them all.

Heads bowed as he approached.

“There’s movement inside the forest,” Killian said.

“Impossible,” the Alpha replied. “If anything valuable lived there, we would have claimed that land generations ago.”

He extended his hand.

“Bring me a pole. I’m crossing.”

Killian frowned. His father meant to inspect the opposite bank, not enter the deepest cursed zone.

“Father, I don’t agree with this risk.”

No one else dared support him.

A narrow boat and long pole were brought forward. Alpha Gallagie crossed first, reaching the far bank without harm.

Several warriors followed.

Then the cracking sound returned, louder this time.

“That pattern is human footsteps,” Zayn said, pointing toward the trees.

“Move!” Alpha Gallagie ordered.

At once, warriors shifted into wolves and charged forward.

“There’s no one here,” Killian said through the mindlink as he ran. “This feels like a trap.”

“No,” Alpha Gallagie answered while racing ahead in wolf form. “Follow the scent. It belongs to one of our own. A rogue.”

The hunters spread wide and caught the trail of a powerful black wolf.

Then Zayn yelped in pain.

“Damn it. Silver needle.”

He shifted back to human form, clutching his paw.

“There will be more,” Killian warned.

He ordered one slower warrior to remain behind and help him.

Ahead, Killian saw his father stumble.

Blood streaked the Alpha’s paws and legs, yet he kept pushing forward.

In that instant, Killian’s old beliefs shattered.

The forest was not cursed by magic.

It was defended.

Someone had planted silver needles across the ground like traps, weakening every werewolf who entered. That was why previous expeditions had vanished.

“Eliminate the rogue,” Alpha Gallagie growled through pain. “Claim this land.”

“Father!”

Killian reached him and stared in shock.

The skin of the Alpha’s feet had been torn raw. Blood soaked his fur and legs.

“I don’t have long,” Gallagie said through clenched teeth. “Go. Take the forest.”

“Get the Alpha back to the pack house now!” Killian barked to the nearest warriors.

Once they obeyed, Killian lunged forward again, chasing the black wolf deeper into the trees.

The rogue was fast.

Stronger than expected.

Smarter than any rogue he had hunted before.

“Where did it go?” one warrior asked through the link.

“We lost the trail.”

Killian swore under his breath.

Then he saw it.

A weathered hut stood alone in the center of the forest.

Could the rogue be hiding there?

Or perhaps some desperate human had been surviving illegally inside forbidden territory.

“Surround the hut,” Killian ordered.

Warriors moved into position.

No clear scent trail led inside.

Killian strode forward and kicked the side door open. Wood splintered inward.

From inside came a faint voice.

Barely audible.

Killian frowned.

Then the scent hit him.

Familiar.

Impossible.

“The rogue belongs here,” he murmured. “And that scent…”

“Should we move in?” a warrior asked.

A strand of hair slipped over the girl’s shoulder.

Killian’s eyes widened.

“Monica?”

A young woman sat at a study desk with her back to him.

A laptop glowed in front of her, displaying next semester’s coursework through a portable internet modem beside it.

She turned.

All color drained from her face.

“Daddy!” she screamed hoarsely. “There’s a wolf in here!”

Her breathing sounded ragged.

“Help! Somebody help me!”

“Monica? You live here?”

The voice was unmistakable. Cold. Flat. Sharp as steel.

Monica’s eyes flew open.

Her heart slammed against her ribs when she saw Killian standing in front of her, wearing only a pair of shorts after shifting back into human form. In an instant, she understood.

The wolf she had seen moments ago had been him.

“Don’t stand there mocking me because I live here!” Monica shouted, panic still rough in her throat.

Beneath the fear, anger burned hotter.

Killian’s gaze moved casually across the cramped hut, and Monica was certain he looked at everything with contempt. The cracked walls. The worn table. The patched roof.

Now he had fresh material to humiliate her with.

She had never imagined someone like Killian, rich, admired, heir to the Glass Fire Pack, would ever step inside a place like this.

And she was certain he had not come kindly.

Hadn’t he already humiliated her enough?

The memory of his rejection flashed through her chest like a blade.

“We’re tracking a rogue. It came this way,” Killian said, dismissing her accusation as if it bored him.

“Get out.” Monica pointed at the broken door. “I don’t care about your excuses. Yes, now you know. I’m poor. I live in the middle of the forest. Leave.”

Killian’s mouth curved with disdain.

“And then you sell yourself to Daniel for meals while chasing a scholarship?”

The words hit harder than a slap.

There it was.

The cruelty she had expected.

So the story about chasing a rogue was only an excuse. He had not arrived here by chance.

“This is none of your business, Killian!” Monica snapped, fury shaking her voice.

He went still for a moment, drawing one slow breath as if weighing whether she was worth another sentence.

She almost hoped he would stay silent.

“I don’t care if you choose to be Daniel’s toy,” Killian said at last, voice low and dangerous. “But if I discover that rogue is tied to your family, I’ll wipe every one of you out.”

He pointed at her.

The threat was unmistakable.

Before Monica could respond, footsteps pounded outside.

“Killian, something happened to the Alpha!”

Killian gave a short nod.

Then he glanced back at Monica with open scorn.

“You can pretend to be human all you like. Your werewolf scent is obvious.”

He slammed the hut door behind him.

Monica stood frozen.

The rejection.

The humiliation.

The ache she had tried to bury.

It all came rushing back.

And now Killian was accusing her of being some hidden rogue as well.

How could he be so vicious?

So merciless?

And yet girls at the university worshiped him.

“Thinking too much again? You’ve been doing that ever since I came back.”

Her mother’s voice broke the silence and made Monica jump.

She had just entered carrying a basket filled with potatoes and wild berries.

“Is that all you found, Mom?” Monica asked quickly, eager to avoid her mother’s curious stare.

“You know I never pick berries before they ripen,” her mother replied lightly. Then her expression softened. “What’s been bothering you all day?”

Monica forced herself to breathe normally.

“Bad dreams.”

“What kind of dreams?”

Monica hesitated, then answered with practiced ease.

“I dreamed my mate was an Alpha… and he rejected me on our wedding day.”

Her mother laughed.

“That’s only a dream. Maybe your standards are too high. How would an Alpha ever be mated to one of us? We’re poor people in Amberbridge.”

Monica laughed too, though the sound was hollow.

She hated herself for still thinking about Killian.

“Where’s Dad?” she asked, changing the subject.

“Out hunting. Wait… what happened to the door?”

Her mother had finally noticed the damage.

“A wolf came in,” Monica said. “It turned into a werewolf. Maybe a thief. Maybe a rogue. I don’t know what he expected to steal from this place.”

She could not bring herself to say Killian’s name.

“Did he hurt you?”

Her mother grabbed Monica’s shoulders, eyes narrowed with concern.

“No. He only asked strange questions about a rogue, then left.”

The lie came smoothly, though pain still twisted inside her.

“Oh great. More trouble for your father,” her mother muttered.

Monica knew little about her father’s work beyond hunting and planting tubers.

Then Killian’s warning returned to her.

A rogue had been near their home.

Her family was poor, isolated, and defenseless.

If Killian truly had chased one here, they were in danger.

Damn him.

Why had he brought it to their doorstep?

Monica rose from her desk and headed toward the kitchen to warn her mother.

But when she entered, no one was there.

“Mom?”

A knot formed in her chest.

“Did Dad come back?”

Then a violent crash shook the house.

Someone had broken through the front door.

Instinct screamed at her to hide.

Monica dropped to her knees and crawled beneath the kitchen table, pressing a hand over her mouth.

“Where is that bastard?!”

Killian’s voice thundered through the house.

Her pulse went wild.

She had hoped never to hear him again.

“No one’s here, Alpha,” another man said. “Damn it. That coward rogue already ran.”

“No.” Killian’s tone sharpened. “His daughter is still here. I can smell her.”

Footsteps came toward the kitchen.

Then stopped.

“So here you are, little rat.”

A hand fisted in Monica’s hair and yanked her from beneath the table.

She cried out as panic exploded through her.

What was happening?

What did he want?

“You’re the daughter of a murderer, Monica!” Killian roared, dragging her toward the doorway. “My father, a respected Alpha, was killed by yours!”

“I don’t know anything!” she sobbed. “Killian, let me go!”

Tears streamed down her face. Her scalp burned where he gripped her.

“So now you defend him?”

Killian turned sharply.

“Beta, find the man and his wife. They can’t be far.”

He hauled Monica through the forest to the riverbank and shoved her into a small boat.

As it crossed the water, a sick realization struck her.

The Glass Fire Pack had always been only one forest away from her home.

Before now, she had never cared.

She had been human.

Ordinary.

Outside Killian’s world.

When they reached pack territory, Monica saw several people still dressed in black mourning clothes.

Yet none looked at her with pity.

Only hatred.

Killian dragged her behind the mansion to a storage shed.

Inside lay a dark stone cellar, damp and cold.

“Wait here for your death,” he snarled.

The heavy door slammed shut.

Iron bolts locked into place.

“Killian, wait!” Monica shouted. “I need to tell you something!”

“What?”

His voice came through the wood, impatient and icy.

“I have more important matters to handle. Speak quickly.”

Monica rushed to the keyhole.

“My family are ordinary humans,” she pleaded. “My father cannot be the rogue you’re hunting, and he could never have killed your father.”

She hoped reason might still reach him.

Instead, laughter answered from outside.

Harsh. Scornful.

“Your family is rogue blood that slaughtered mine. I was a fool to think you might be innocent.”

“What proof do you have?” Monica cried. “I know my family better than anyone. My father was human!”

But the final bolts slammed shut.

Her voice was swallowed by stone and darkness.

No one heard her.

“All of my elders say the rogue was your father,” Killian said through the door. “Stop lying, Monica. You’re a werewolf too.”

“No!”

“Your bloodline broke the golden laws of our kind. Werewolves do not use silver against each other.”

His voice grew harsher, weighted with old grief.

“For years we believed that forest was cursed. We sent omega after omega, and none returned.”

A pause.

“Now we know why. Your family seeded those woods with silver needles.”

“That’s impossible. My father is an ordinary human. He doesn’t even know what silver needles are!”

Monica shouted through the cellar door, trying to convince Killian—and perhaps herself.

“Do you really think you understand anything about this world, Monica?” Killian’s voice came coldly from the other side. “Your noble father is nothing more than a fugitive hiding in Amberbridge. His freedom is almost over. Every Alpha in this province knows he broke the golden laws of werewolves.”

His footsteps receded as he walked away.

Monica sank against the wall.

All she could do now was pray her family would not be found.

She doubted anyone could recognize her parents by face alone. They had lived quietly and kept to themselves for years.

But scent was another matter.

Killian must have traced them that way.

That was, if her parents truly were werewolves at all.

Because Monica had never known herself to be one.

The next morning, the cellar door creaked open.

Sunlight flooded the room so suddenly that Monica had to shield her eyes. After a night trapped in darkness, the brightness felt like knives.

Killian stood in the doorway, smiling with chilling amusement.

In his hands were a pair of handcuffs, a collar, and a chain.

“Relax,” he said casually. “I’m not killing you yet. Not until I find your parents and execute them in front of you.”

Fear flashed across Monica’s face, and he seemed to enjoy it.

“But I’ve reconsidered something.”

He stepped inside.

“So beg me to spare your life, Monica. Go on.”

“You’re wrong, Killian.” Monica forced strength into her voice. “My father, my mother, my whole family—we are not werewolves. We are not rogues. We are not murderers. You have no proof for anything you’re saying.”

He tilted his head.

“You still deny it?”

His smile faded.

“Perhaps I should kill you first instead. One life for another seems fair.”

A shiver ran through Monica.

The grief in his eyes was worse than anger. It made him unpredictable.

Once, Killian had been the brilliant student everyone admired. Professors respected him. Women adored him.

Now he looked like someone hollowed out by rage.

“Zayn,” Killian called.

“Yes, Alpha?”

Zayn hurried over at once.

“This little mutt seems eager to die. Did you bring the silver axe?”

Before Zayn could move, Monica broke.

“Killian, please. Don’t kill me. Please!”

He sneered.

“Your begging is terrible. Are you pleading with me or ordering me? I do not take commands from someone like you.”

“I know you won’t believe me,” Monica said desperately. “But please… don’t kill anyone.”

“Still wrong.”

He gave a humorless laugh.

“You have no standing to ask anything of me.”

Zayn returned and placed a silver axe into Killian’s hand.

The flash of silver made Monica recoil.

She believed herself human, yet something primal inside her feared the metal instantly.

“You are not human, Monica,” Killian said softly. “You are a werewolf who refuses to admit it.”

He slowly raised the axe.

“And silver is forbidden between our kind—unless it is used for execution.”

His words struck deep, planting doubt and guilt where certainty had been.

What if her father truly had killed Alpha Gallagie?

“I’ll use this on your father,” Killian said, lifting the blade until it gleamed near her face.

Then Zayn returned carrying a steaming metal basin.

The smell reached Monica immediately.

Meat stew, rich with pepper and onions.

But the bowl looked like one meant for animals.

“Today, I’m merciful,” Killian said, noticing where her eyes had gone. “I’m letting you live. I’m even feeding you.”

His smile turned cruel.

“But mercy is never free.”

He crouched in front of her.

“You still haven’t begged properly or thanked me for my kindness. Try again.”

“Please let us live…” Monica whispered.

“Wrong,” he said sharply. “Only you are here. Beg clearly.”

She swallowed hard.

“Please let me live, Killian.”

Every word tasted like humiliation.

But she still wanted to survive.

“I’ll allow it,” he said grandly, like a king granting pardon. “Am I not generous?”

He waited.

“Thank you… for your generosity.”

A satisfied grin spread across his face.

It was the first time she had truly begged him.

“Better. Now you may have breakfast.”

He gestured toward the basin.

“Though naturally, that also has a price.”

His cruelty still had layers.

“I’ll pay anything if you let me go home,” Monica said suddenly.

Money moved the world. Surely even he had a price.

Killian laughed softly.

“You don’t need money for this worthless meal. I don’t want anything you own.”

His eyes darkened.

“This was prepared for my dog.”

He leaned closer.

“But I decided you could replace the one I gifted to my cousin.”

Monica trembled with fury.

She understood perfectly.

He wanted to degrade her as deeply as possible.

“You’re disgusting, Killian.”

“No,” he said calmly. “I’m merciful.”

He dropped the collar at her feet.

“I’m sparing your life. In return, you’ll take the dog’s place.”

“Then I refuse your food.”

He laughed again, as though she were a child throwing a tantrum.

“Really? You plan to starve yourself? By noon, you’ll be too weak to stand.”

His gaze hardened.

“Eat while I am still willing to feed you.”

Maybe pride would have to wait.

Maybe survival mattered more than dignity.

With shaking hands, Monica picked up the collar and fastened it around her neck.

“Look at me,” Killian ordered.

She fumbled with the buckle while he watched every second.

When she finished, he clipped the chain to the metal ring.

Satisfaction gleamed openly in his eyes.

“Now eat,” he said. “Like my dog. Use your mouth.”

To reach the basin, Monica had to kneel and bend low.

She lowered herself to the floor and leaned forward to sip the stew.

Above her, Killian held the chain loosely, smiling as if she already belonged to him.

The shame was unbearable.

Tears burned behind her eyes, but she forced them back.

She had never imagined the brilliant university star, polished and admired by everyone, could become this.

He had once seemed intelligent, refined, disciplined.

Now she saw a broken man wearing power like a weapon.

And this man was meant to lead one of Amberbridge’s greatest packs.

“Finish it,” Killian said. “Don’t waste my generosity.”

He gave the chain a small tug.

“Afterward, you’ll learn what else a good dog should do.”

Monica paused and looked up.

His gaze was still locked on her.

Sharp.

Unblinking.

“Thank you, Killian,” she muttered.

“Clearly.”

He dismissed the words at once.

“Thank you for your generosity in giving me breakfast, Killian,” she said again, bitterness cutting through every syllable.

Killian laughed, thoroughly pleased with himself.