Chapter 6
725 Words
The first thing I realized when I woke up was that I was warm.
For ten years, my mornings had begun on a thin cot in a drafty cellar, the smell of damp stone and stale grease filling my lungs. But here, the air smelled of cedarwood, dried herbs, and the sharp, clean scent of a mountain winter. I was lying on a bed of soft furs in a small, circular cabin made of dark timber.
I tried to sit up, but a sharp pain flared in my chest, a reminder of where the bond had been ripped away. I gasped, clutching my tunic.
"Don't rush it, little bird. Your soul is still stitching itself back together."
Ryker was sitting by a small stone hearth, sharpening a long, silver-edged blade. He didn't look up, but the firelight caught the hard angles of his face. He looked less like a savior and more like a predator who had simply decided I wasn't worth eating yet.
"Where am I?" My voice was raspy, barely a whisper.
"The Grey Ridge," he said, finally looking at me. His grey eyes were unreadable. "It’s a dead zone. The Silver-Moon trackers can't smell you here; the minerals in the rock mask the scent of a wolf. You’re safe. For now."
"Why did you save me?" I asked, my fingers brushing the furs. "I’m an Omega. I’m supposed to be dead. Silas said—"
"Silas Vane is a fool who thinks power is only measured in muscle and loud barks," Ryker interrupted, his voice dropping to a low growl. He stood up and walked toward the bed, dropping a heavy, leather-bound book onto the furs beside me. "You didn't survive because you're lucky. You survived because the darkness inside you wouldn't let you go."
I looked at the book. The cover was embossed with the same symbol from my mother’s locket, the crescent moon eclipsed by a crow’s wing.
"The Shadow Walkers," I murmured.
"Your ancestors," Ryker said. "They weren't Omegas. They were the King-Makers. Long ago, the Alphas didn't rule alone. They ruled alongside the Shadows. But the Kings grew greedy. They feared a power they couldn't command, so they started a purge. They told the world your kind was a curse. They murdered your family to keep their thrones secure."
I felt a surge of cold fury. All those years I had spent scrubbing floors, being kicked and spat on, believing I was nothing... it was all based on a lie. I wasn't the weak one. They were the cowards.
"I want to learn," I said, my voice gaining strength. "I want to know how to use it. I want to make them pay."
Ryker leaned down, his face inches from mine. "Shadow magic isn't like wolf strength, Ivy. It doesn't come from your muscles. It comes from your pain. It comes from the parts of you that Silas Vane tried to break. If you want to control the dark, you have to stop running from it."
He stepped back and gestured toward the door. "Get up. If you can walk, you can work. I don't harbor refugees. I train soldiers."
I swung my legs over the side of the bed. My head spun, and my vision blurred for a second, but I gritted my teeth and stood up. I walked toward the door, every step a battle against the exhaustion in my bones.
When I stepped outside, the view took my breath away. We were high on a cliffside, overlooking a sea of black pines. In the distance, far across the valley, I could see the shimmering lights of the Silver-Moon Palace. It looked like a dollhouse from here, fragile and small.
"Look at it," Ryker said, appearing behind me. "That’s the world that rejected you."
I looked at the palace, then down at my hands. I concentrated, thinking of the fear, the cold, and the way Silas had looked at me with disgust. A wisp of black smoke began to curl around my fingers, dancing between my knuckles like a living thing. It didn't feel scary anymore. It felt like a part of me that had finally come home.
"I'm not an Omega anymore," I whispered.
"No," Ryker agreed, a ghost of a smile touching his lips. "You're the nightmare Silas Vane hasn't realized he’s having yet.
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