The Enemy Alpha’s Daughter

PROLOGUE

2 YEARS AFTER THE WAR.

The rain wasn’t heavy, but it was persistent. A cold, needle-like drizzle that felt like the earth was trying to wash away the scent of the dead. Aria gripped the handle of her umbrella until her knuckles turned white.

It's been two years. Two years since the Crimson Wolf burned her world, yet the mud at the cemetery still felt like ash.

Beside her, Frank stood like a statue carved from grief. He didn’t use an umbrella. He let the water soak into his heavy coat, his eyes fixed on the name carved into the granite: COLE VANCE.

Aria’s chest heaved. Cole had been the golden child. By age 12, his wolf had already been restless, a humming presence beneath his skin. By age 14 he could already control it. Aria, by contrast, had been quiet. It was after the m******e, after the screaming had stopped and the blood dried, that her own wolf finally clawed its way to the surface. It was jagged, an uncontrolled beast, and she still didn't fully trust it.

A shadow moved behind them. Dax, one of the few survivors, leaned in close to Frank. “Alpha Frank,” he muttered, inclining his head towards the black sedan idling near the gate

Frank followed him without a word. Aria stayed by the grave, but her senses betrayed her. Those new, volatile instincts had a mind of their own. She closed her eyes and focused her hearing. The rain softened. The beat of her heart slowed. The distance between her and the car disappeared.

“...in the clear, sir,” Dax was saying, his voice tight.

“Good,” Frank’s tone was flat and heavy. “We have enough to worry about. We don’t need more heat.”

“Sir.” Dax hesitated. “He has restarted the program. Our sources confirmed it this morning.”

The air around Frank seemed to freeze. “No. He can’t. How?”

“We don’t know. But he is looking for us now. He won’t stop until he finishes us”

Aria's eyes snapped open as Frank returned. The sadness he had worn moments ago was gone, replaced by a sharp, vibrating worry that he was doing his best to hide.

“He is coming for us, isn’t he? Aria asked, her voice cracking through the rain.

Frank didn’t look at the grave anymore. He looked at the road. “The safe house is compromised. We leave tonight.”

As they walked toward the car, Aria didn't look back. She didn’t need to. The grief in her chest had finally solidified into something harder. She didn’t know his face yet, but she knew his shadow.

Let him come, she thought, the wolf inside her baring its teeth. I’ll be the last thing he ever sees.