hen Alpha Marcus arrived at the gathering at Crescent Hall, the shift in the room was instant.
He hadn’t even stepped fully into the space before wolves started to move.
The power radiating off him was cold and biting like winter wind slicing through bone.
His chiseled features were set in stone, his jaw clenched, a storm brewing in his golden eyes.
Instinctively, younger wolves and lower–ranked pack members parted to let him through.
Even the braver ones didn’t dare hold his gaze.
Within seconds, his Beta and two of his closest allies, Damon and Elias, were at his side.
“Alpha, you look like you’re about to toss someone off the damn balcony. What happened? Just give the word, we’ll make it disappear,” Damon said, half–joking, half–serious.
Alpha Marcus didn’t answer.
Just a tight nod.
That deep line between his brows stayed put like it had been carved into his skin by the Goddess herself.
His mind kept echoing one phrase:
[Stop bothering me.]
It shouldn’t have gotten under his skin.
But it did.
Not because of what she said, but because it was her.
Brianna.
And the tie… the one Kaela had gifted him on her deathbed.
A relic. A reminder.
Without that damn tie, he never would’ve reached out.
Damon and Elias exchanged looks. They knew. Everyone close to him knew.
There was only one person who could shake the unshakable Alpha of the Shadow Walker Pack like this.
They didn’t mention her name.
Instead, Elias clapped him on the back.
“Come on. Spirits tonight are from the Northfang Alchemists.
The word is their brews channel raw lunar energy. Let’s try a few. If they’re any good, we strike a deal for the Moonhowl taverns.”
Marcus didn’t resist.
He let them pull him toward the drink tables, where golden flasks and obsidian cups shimmered with arcane sigils.
He downed one.
Then another.
THE
And somewhere between the third and fourth elixir–one tasting like ash, the other like fire–he found himself discussing terms with a visiting Alpha from the Northern Enclave.
By the end of the night, a partnership was sealed with a blood–marked handshake. Elias and Damon were grinning like pups after their first shift.
Alpha Marcus?
He felt nothing but the dull, leaden weight in his chest.
So he drank more.
The moon dipped lower. The howls of celebration echoed until long after midnight.
When the gathering ended, Marcus was completely drunk, his words slurring, his eyes glassy.
His friends guided him into the back of a Mustang and sent him home.
Back at the packhouse, he stumbled into the kitchen, groaning at the hammering in his skull.
‘Brianna…”
He called hoarsely, half–aware, reaching for the bond that no longer existed.
‘Make that willow root stew you used to-”
Silence.
She was gone.
He cursed under his breath and flung open a cabinet, pulling out a cookbook she had once written in by hand.
‘Can’t be that hard…”
He muttered, eyes glazed, trying to follow her notes.
Five minutes later…
Boom.
A misfired elemental spice exploded in the pan, a burst of smoke and flame shooting up toward
he ceiling.
The fire runes flared.
Alarms wailed.
Pack guards rushed in, extinguishing the magical blaze and dragging a stunned, soot–covered Alpha out of the room.
He looked utterly ridiculous, his face blackened, hair singed at the ends.
Alpha Marcus didn’t speak.
He just ran a hand through what was left of his scorched hair and muttered:
“Can’t even brew a damn healing soup without her.”
For days after, he didn’t return home.
He drowned himself in work at the war room, buried in strategy maps, border reports, and inter–pack diplomacy–anything to silence her voice in his head.
Anything to keep from dreaming of her scent.
Chapter 14
Until one evening, the pack’s doctor sent word through the phone.
Lucas is fully recovered.
He’s ready to be brought home.
Alpha Marcus left the office just before dusk and made his way to the infirmary.
But when he stepped inside Lucas’s private room, a surprise awaited him.
Ava.
She was there beside his son, carefully packing his clothes into a travel satchel, her head lowered in what looked like… shame?
“Alpha Marcus,”
She said quietly, bowing her head in deference.
“I know I crossed a line. I just… I want to make this right. Let me care for Lucas until things settle. I promise I’ll protect him.”
When she looked up, her eyes–eerily similar to Kaela’s–pleaded for forgiveness.
But for the first time, Marcus didn’t feel the warmth her face usually stirred.
Instead… he felt a flicker of disgust.
A warning growl stirred low in his throat, not loud enough to be threatening, but enough to make his stance clear.
‘That won’t be necessary,”
He said coldly.
‘My wolves are more than
Ava’s face fell.
capable of doing this job.”
Marcus turned to Lucas, who watched the entire exchange in silence.
Without saying another word, Marcus reached for his son’s bag and slung it over his shoulder. The message was clear.
Brianna might be gone.
But no one–not even a ghost of his past–would ever take her place.
