THE ALPHA PACT: Five Wolves One Obsession

Chapter 2: The Alpha Who Lost Control

The kneeling lasted eleven seconds

Seraphina counted them, because counting was easier than thinking. Then the violet light drained from the marble like water down a drain, and the five Alphas rose one by one, stiff and furious and avoiding each other's eyes.

Nobody spoke. The assassin was dragged away by Ronan's warriors, still laughing, and the silence he left behind felt worse than the noise.

Darius wrapped his jacket around her shoulders. You're coming with me. Now. No, said Draven.

It wasn't loud. It never was. He simply said it, and the corridor seemed to rearrange itself around the word. She's my sister, Darius snapped.

And my kingdom's problem. Draven's silver eyes hadn't left her face. Private room. The east wing. Kael, seal the corridor. Nobody speaks of this.

Excuse me, Seraphina said. I'm standing right here. I noticed.

Then you might ask. Something flickered across his face, too quick to read. Walk, he said. Please. The please was so unexpected that she walked.

The room was a small sitting chamber with a fire already lit, as if the Citadel had been expecting disaster. A physician cleaned her arm and left. Darius paced. Lucian sprawled on a sofa, trying to look relaxed and failing. Ronan stood by the door like a wall with opinions. Soren sat in the corner and watched the fire as though it had said something rude.

Draven stood in front of her. What are you?

Seraphina stared at him. Wow. Straight in. No warm up.

Answer the question. I'm a university student with a bad arm and worse shoes. What are you, the royal inquisition?

Seraphina. He said her name low, and a shiver went straight down her spine. She hated it. She hated it enough to lift her chin.

Don't interrogate me like a criminal, Draven. A man just tried to kill me. I'm not the one who owes anyone an explanation.

My wolf knelt to you. His voice dropped. Five wolves knelt to you. Do you understand what that means?

No. Because I'm wolfless. Remember? The thing everyone has politely agreed not to mention for twenty two years. He took a step closer, and the air changed.

It was subtle at first, a warmth, a pressure, like standing too near a fire. His scent reached her then, and it shouldn't have, because she had never been able to smell anyone. Cedar smoke and cold rain and something darker underneath. Her breath caught.

Draven went completely still. His nostrils flared. Muscle jumped in his jaw. For one second his eyes weren't silver at all, but the flat, bright gold of the wolf behind them. He drew in a ragged breath and stepped back, hard, like a man who had touched a live wire.

Don't, he said roughly. Don't what?

Look at me like that. Like what?

He didn't answer. Behind him, Lucian let out a low whistle.

Well, Lucian murmured. That's new. Our king just lost an argument with his own self control. Shut up, Lucian, Draven said. I'm only observing, love. Gently. But Lucian's amber eyes were on Seraphina, and the smile didn't reach them. He looked, she realised, rattled. For the record, little Veyne, I've known you since you were eleven and cried when I let you win at cards. I would very much like for you not to be dangerous.

I'm not dangerous. Mm, said Lucian. The floor disagrees.

The door opened. Kael Thorne walked in with a tablet in one hand and a small evidence bag in the other. His tie was still perfect. It was irritating how perfect it was.

The assassin's name is irrelevant, he said, without greeting anyone. He used a false identity, a real security badge, and the cooperation of someone inside the Citadel's staffing office. Which means this wasn't improvised.

Someone planned it, Ronan growled. Someone planned it months ago. That's not the interesting part. Kael set the bag on the table. Inside lay a small, tarnished pendant, still warm from the man's skin. He was wearing this under his collar.

Seraphina leaned closer. The pendant was a ring of silver, etched with five crescent moons set in a circle. Between the fifth moon and the first, the circle had a gap. A deliberate, empty space where a sixth should have been.

The room went quiet again. Soren stood up. It was the first time he had moved in half an hour.

That's not a symbol, he said softly. That's a grave marker.

Meaning? said Draven.

Meaning someone is mourning something that was supposed to be forgotten. Soren's pale eyes were distant, unfocused. I've seen it before. In a dream, I think. You think, Ronan said.

Ronan, said Kael. The symbol appears in exactly one place in our archives. A restricted volume the Citadel sealed three centuries ago. The section is titled Forbidden History.

Darius had stopped pacing. What does a forbidden symbol have to do with my sister?

Nobody answered, because nobody knew. Seraphina looked at the pendant, at the empty place in the circle, and felt something move beneath her ribs. A slow turning, as if a very large door were swinging open somewhere deep inside her.

Her arm began to burn. Sera? Darius was at her side. What's wrong?

Nothing. It's... She pushed back the sleeve of his jacket. The physician's bandage was gone, burned away to ash. Beneath it, her wound had sealed itself without a scar.

And on the pale inside of her wrist, glowing faintly silver, a mark was drawing itself into her skin, line by line, moon by moon.

Five crescents in a circle. And the sixth, slowly, impossibly, beginning to appear.