Rejected by the Alpha, Claimed by His Ruthless Father

What Hunts in the Dark

Kael moved before the second howl even finished echoing.

He crossed the room in three strides, grabbed a blade from the mantel, and pulled a heavy curtain aside just enough to look out without exposing himself to the window. Lyra sat frozen in the bed, her shoulder throbbing, her whole body still humming with the aftershock of rejection and blood loss.

"How many?" she managed.

"Three. Maybe four." Kael didn't look away from the glass. "Rogues don't usually come this close to a fortified house. Not unless they were sent."

"Sent by who?"

He finally turned to look at her, and something in his face made her stomach drop. It wasn't fear. Kael Blackthorn didn't look like a man who knew how to be afraid. It was something closer to grim recognition, like a puzzle piece sliding into place he'd hoped never to find.

"Get dressed," he said. "There are clothes in the wardrobe. We don't have time for questions right now."

She didn't argue. Her body ached in places she didn't know could ache, but she forced herself upright, wincing as the bandage pulled at her shoulder. The wardrobe held clothes far too fine for someone like her, soft wool leggings, a fitted tunic, boots that fit like they'd been made for her exact foot. She didn't ask how that was possible. She had a feeling the answer would only frighten her more.

By the time she was dressed, Kael had already opened a section of the stone wall she hadn't noticed before, a hidden panel that slid back to reveal a narrow staircase descending into darkness.

"You have a secret passage," she said.

"I have several." He held out a hand, not gently, but not unkindly either. "This house has stood for three hundred years. It's survived worse than four hungry rogues."

She took his hand before she could think better of it. His grip was warm, steady, and impossibly strong, the kind of strength that made her wolf, still raw and reeling from Damian's rejection, go quiet in a way it hadn't in hours.

They descended into the dark together.

The passage smelled of stone and old iron. Kael moved silently ahead of her, blade drawn, every muscle coiled with a readiness that made Lyra realize, with sudden clarity, exactly how dangerous this man truly was. Rumors said he'd once fought off an entire rival pack alone. Rumors said he'd killed his own brother for betraying pack law. Rumors said a lot of things about Kael Blackthorn, and standing this close to him in the dark, Lyra believed every one of them.

"Why are they hunting me?" she whispered.

Kael didn't answer immediately. When he finally spoke, his voice was low enough that she had to strain to catch it over the drip of water somewhere in the passage.

"There's a bloodline," he said. "Old enough that most packs think it's a myth. A line the Moon Goddess herself is said to have marked, generations ago, to be born again when the packs need saving most."

"That has nothing to do with me."

"Your mother's scent," Kael said. "The night she died in that fire, I was one of the wolves who responded. I never told anyone what I smelled beneath the smoke."

Lyra's breath caught. "What did you smell?"

"Something that hadn't existed in this territory for two hundred years." He stopped walking and turned to face her fully, and in the dim light from a lantern bracket ahead, his amber eyes looked almost gold. "Moonfire blood. The mark of the old line."

Before Lyra could respond, a crash sounded from somewhere above them, followed by the unmistakable snarl of a wolf breaking through a door that was never meant to be broken.

Kael's expression hardened instantly. "They're inside."

"I thought this house was safe."

"It was." He pushed her behind him with an arm like a bar of iron, positioning his body between her and the staircase they'd just descended. "Which means whoever sent them knew exactly how to get past my wards. That's not a rogue's skill. That's someone with pack knowledge."

Footsteps thundered above, fast and multiple, converging toward the hidden panel they'd just come through.

"Kael." Lyra's voice shook. "Who else knows this passage exists?"

His jaw tightened, and for the first time since she'd woken in his bed, she saw something flicker across his face that looked almost like dread.

"Only two people alive," he said. "Myself, and my son."