Rise of the Underdogs: KADEN

Turning Point

I felt cold all over one evening that same summer. It was just a month and a half before my brother’s wedding—an event we had all been looking forward to. That night, I received the call I had been dreading, the one I never wanted to hear. As soon as I answered, I felt the world around me turn cold and dark. The news was so heavy, so overwhelming, that I found myself grasping for any shred of hope, any idea to hold onto.

The sense of despair was palpable, and it left me feeling as though I was trudging through thick sludge, unable to move forward or escape the weight of what I had learned…

******

I was staying at Dreson's place, still riding the high from my nineteenth birthday celebration. The exhaustion from the festivities, combined with being more than a little drunk, had me deeply asleep, lost in a dream about my amazing Mate. My phone, nearly dead from the stress of keeping up with all the calls and messages, was charging on the nightstand.

Suddenly, the piercing wail of the siren ringtone I had set for Izzy shattered the silence of the room. The sound was so loud and urgent that it jolted me out of my deep sleep instantly. With my heart pounding, I reached for my phone, barely awake, and answered the call with immediate concern weighing in my voice.

The thing is, Izzy never phoned me unless it was something truly serious. In fact, she only ever called if it was a matter of life or death. That was just how she was. Fully aware of how busy my schedule always was, she would only reach out in an emergency.

“Yeah?”

Izzy’s voice trembled with urgency and fear as she pleaded through the phone. “Get here now! I need you. Logan and Mari need you.” Her words were choked with emotion, her anxiety evident as she struggled to relay the severity of the situation. Between sobs, she explained, “Their… Their symbols… they have death signs in their Omens, Kaden.”

The distress in her voice intensified, spiralling into a tear-filled rant as she spoke of making an example out of the wolf responsible for harming a pup.

“Tell me everything you’ve seen,” I pleaded, nearly stumbling as I rushed to pull on my jeans. “I’m getting dressed right now, Cuz. I’ll be there soon. The guys will want to know, so what did you see? What Omens were there, baby girl?” My words tumbled out, urgent and full of concern, as I tried to gather any details that Izzy could offer.

There was a long pause. “I’m scared.” Izzy’s voice cracked, her fear clear and raw through the phone. I could hear the tremor in her words, the uncertainty overwhelming her.

I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me, hoping she could feel my understanding through the line. “I got you, Izzy. And we got this.” My reassurance was firm, meant to remind her that she wasn’t alone in facing whatever lay ahead.

She hesitated, then whispered, “Okay.” After a moment’s silence, she added, “Neil is looking at me weird.” The vulnerability in her tone was unmistakable; she was unsettled not just by the omens, but by those around her.

“Depending on what you say, he won’t be there much longer. He knows the magic world too, Izaria. He will know what the signs mean.” I explained, making sure to keep my tone gentle, careful not to sound patronizing. I wanted her to know I understood the stakes and that I would do everything I could to help her through this.

Izzy drew in a deep, shaky breath as she tried to steady herself. “A broken chain,” she managed, her voice barely above a whisper. “Austin—he had a broken chain draped over his left shoulder earlier when I saw him.” The words came out haltingly, each detail loaded with dread. “When I went to check on Mariana, maybe two hours ago now, I saw a pool of blood, the same broken chain…” Her voice caught, anguish breaking through as she continued, “and—oh Gods—I saw the same thing for Logan. He’s just a baby, Kaden.”

“I know, and we’re going to do all we can.”

Neil’s anger erupted, his roar echoing through the room with a force born from pure, unfiltered rage and regret. The fury in his voice stemmed from the fact that Austin—despite everything—had been allowed back into the pack. Uncle Henry had decided we needed the numbers, especially with a pup involved, but neither Neil nor I could accept this reasoning. Regret lingered between us, heavy and bitter, because both of us desperately wished for the chance to confront Austin alone, away from prying eyes.

It would not take an hour. Not even thirty minutes.

Just a brief moment. Just long enough to make Austin wish he had never returned, regardless of the presence of his Mate and child.

Minutes, not hours later, my brothers and I appeared on the front veranda of the packhouse. The urgency that had driven us here was palpable in the air; we had arrived just in time to witness Logan collapse in front of Ember. The moment felt suspended—Ember’s blond pigtails danced in the mid-summer breeze, her small voice trembling as she pleaded quietly for Logan to get up, desperation etched in every syllable. She begged him to move, to stand, because the ‘bad man’ was coming, her fear as real and immediate as the danger looming over us.

Let. Me. OUT!’ Malachite screamed. Not growled, not pleaded. He screamed to be released from the confines of my mind. Scratching sharply at the edges of my mind as he roared in absolute, heart-shattering fury.

‘Not until we get the order,’ I replied firmly, my resolve unwavering.

There was no way I was going to break pack law, not even for the anger burning inside me or for my wolf’s desperate need for vengeance against Austin. No matter how fierce Malachite’s urge to intervene, I would not allow him to act on instinct alone and risk the consequences. The rules existed for a reason, and I had to keep the bigger picture in mind, even if it meant restraining the beast within.

I dropped to my knees beside Logan—the boy who, despite the enormous difference in our ages, had become a friend to me. Cradling him gently in my arms, I could immediately feel how cold he was. Blood seeped from a series of cuts, each one adding to the growing pool on the wooden veranda beneath us. The scene was made even more urgent by Ember’s desperate pleas as she begged me to save him. To save her Alpha.

Though not really understanding her intent or what she was trying to say, I felt the way her voice trembled with fear and hope. Fear she would lose a friend. Hope that he could be saved.

Even before this moment, I had known there was something special about Logan. Now, as I held him and witnessed the depth of Ember’s devotion, I realized just how right I had been. Even if I didn’t yet understand the full truth of his significance.

I promised Ember that I would do everything in my power to protect him. To save the little red-haired boy from the fate that threatened to claim him. With that vow heavy on my heart, I passed Logan into Phillip’s care, watching as he slipped into unconsciousness from the pain and blood loss he had endured.

After witnessing the true scale of the destruction that Austin had wrought, Izaria fixed her dark blue eyes on me with an intensity that commanded attention. Her snarl—sharp and unyielding—left no doubt about her resolve. She radiated a fearlessness that few could match, especially in her instinct to protect a vulnerable pack pup. The ferocity of her stance was so powerful that several Warriors instinctively stepped back, unwilling to find themselves within her reach. The question hung unspoken in the air: did she truly want Austin dead?

If she did, then I could live quite nicely knowing I had spilled that bastard’s blood.

My Luna wanted blood, wanted the head of the wolf stupid enough to make a female bleed, and I was more than happy to provide. Then Henry spoke, his voice grave and gravelly with his Irish tone weighing heavily over all pack members.

Take him out?

‘Oh,’ Malachite’s smile in my head was primal, devoid of anything resembling everything good. ‘With absolute pleasure.’

With Neil’s words finally granting the permission I had long yearned for, I relinquished control and allowed Malachite to take the lead. Without hesitation, we pursued Austin, driving him relentlessly to the edge of the territory. We passed derelict buildings, their rotting timbers and collapsed roofs reminders of a time before devastation struck our pack when I was only five. The chase carried us beyond these ruins, through a forest where life and decay were interwoven, the trees bearing silent witness to what had been lost and what struggled to remain.

Our pursuit ended at the cliffside. There, Austin spun around, a twisted grin spreading across his face, his expression more monstrous than human. He wore his arrogance like a mask, daring me to close the gap between us. “You want me, Omega? Come get me!”

The temptation to lunge at him was almost overwhelming. But I recognized the trap—one reckless move could send me plummeting over the cliff’s edge, lost forever. I had to let Austin cross the border. Still, I wasn’t about to let him go unmarked.

Quietly, I helped Malachite to cast a permanent tracking spell on him. No matter where he ran, we would never truly lose him.

Next time, things would end differently. When we met again, only one of us would leave alive—the other would fall, undone by the consequences of his own actions. And I would feel no guilt for the outcome.