Chapter 1
Chapter 1
The kitchen bell rang before sunrise, and Elara Voss was already awake.
She always was. Omegas who slept late got shouted at, and Elara had been shouted at enough for one lifetime. She pulled on her gray servant dress, tied back her dark hair, and hurried down the cold stone stairs of Moonreach Keep, one hand trailing along the damp wall to keep her balance in the dark.
"You're late," snapped Brenna, the head cook, without turning around.
"The bell only just rang," Elara said softly.
"Then you should have been here before it." Brenna dropped a heavy bucket at her feet. "Water. For the Alpha's breakfast. Don't spill it on my clean floor."
"Yes, ma'am."
Elara didn't argue, because arguing never worked. Omegas weren't supposed to have opinions.
The courtyard air was sharp and smelled of pine smoke. Autumn had come early to the Blackthorn Pack's mountains, and the trees beyond the walls were turning red and gold. Somewhere above the keep, a hawk cried once and fell silent.
"Psst! Elara!"
Seraphine waved from the herb garden, her sleeves dusty with soil and a basket hooked over her arm. She was the pack healer, and the only person in Moonreach who smiled at Elara as if she mattered.
"You look tired," Seraphine said.
"I'm always tired."
"Here." Seraphine pushed a wrapped bun into her hand. "Honey bread. Eat it before Brenna sees."
Elara laughed quietly and took a bite. It was warm and sweet, and for a moment the morning felt almost kind. "Thank you."
"Have you heard? The Alpha came home last night."
Elara froze. "Kaelen? He wasn't due until the end of the week."
"Trouble at the Ironfang border. Again." Seraphine lowered her voice. "He's in a terrible mood. Stay out of his way."
"I always do."
"Is that honey bread I smell?"
Elara spun around and bowed her head. Soren Draven stood in the archway, golden hair messy, shirt half-buttoned. He was the Alpha's younger brother, and the whole pack adored him. He had the kind of smile that made people forget they were angry.
"Your Lordship," Elara mumbled.
"Soren," he said. "Please. How many times must I ask?"Many more, I think."
He laughed, then his smile faded. "Elara, may I borrow you a moment?"
Her stomach dropped. "Did I do something wrong?"
"No. Nothing like that." He glanced over his shoulder and spoke quietly. "Meet me at the silver lake tonight. Midnight."
Seraphine's eyebrows shot up.My lord, that's not proper," Elara whispered.
"I know. But something is wrong in this pack, and I think you might be the only person I can trust."
"You barely know me."
"I know you notice things. You see everything and say nothing." He smiled weakly. "That's rare here."
"Soren."
The voice was cold and low, and it cut across the courtyard like a blade. Alpha Kaelen Draven stood at the top of the steps, tall and dark-haired, with a sharp face that never softened. His gray eyes looked at Elara as if she were a stain on the floor.
"The council is waiting. You're late."
"Good morning to you too, brother," Soren said lightly.
Kaelen ignored him. "Omega. Why are you standing around?"
"I'm sorry, my lord. I was fetching water."
"Then fetch it. Don't gossip in my courtyard."
Kaelen walked away. Soren squeezed Elara's shoulder. "Midnight," he whispered. "Please." Then he was gone.
"You're not actually going," Seraphine said.
Elara stared at the bucket, watching her own pale reflection ripple in the water. "He looked scared, Sera. I've never seen him scared."
Seraphine was quiet a long moment. Then she sighed and pulled a flask from her basket. "Take this tonight. Warm tea. It's freezing by the lake."
"You don't have to..."
"Take it. For me." Seraphine's fingers were strangely cold as she pressed it into Elara's hands.
"You're too good to me," Elara said.
Seraphine looked away. "Don't say that."
The day crawled. Elara scrubbed pots, carried wood, and folded linens until her fingers ached, and by moonrise she had talked herself out of going three times and into it four.
At last she slipped out the kitchen door. Her breath turned to mist as she hurried down the narrow path through the trees, every snapped sounding like a shout. She sipped the tea. It tasted of mint, and something bitter underneath.
The silver lake glowed under the moon, perfectly still, like a mirror dropped between the mountains. The pack called it sacred. People came only to pray or to grieve.
"Soren?" she called. "My lord?"
An owl hooted. She almost turned back. Then she saw a figure at the water's edge.
"You came," Soren said, pale in the moonlight. "Thank the Moon Goddess."
"You said it was important."
"More than you know." He took a shaky breath. "Elara, listen. Someone close to us has been..He stopped. His eyes had gone wide, fixed on something behind her.
"Run," he whispered.
"What?"
"Elara, run!"
She turned. The world tilted sideways. The trees swam, the moon smeared into a white blur, and her legs turned to water. She heard a snarl. She heard Soren shout her name. She heard something heavy hit the ground.
Then everything went black.
Cold. That was the first thing she felt, and something wet and sticky against her hands.
Elara opened her eyes. Pale light stung them. She lay on damp grass beside the lake, her head pounding.
She pushed herself up. Her palms slid on something slick. She looked down. Her hands were red. Her dress was soaked in red, drying dark on her sleeves.
"No," she whispered. "No, no, no."
Soren lay beside her, still and silent, his golden hair stained. His eyes stared at the sky, and they were empty.
Elara screamed.
Horns blasted through the trees. Boots pounded closer. Wolves howled across the mountains. She scrambled backward and her fingers brushed something cold in the grass: a silver dagger. Her hand had been resting on its handle.
Heavy footsteps stopped in front of her. Slowly, she raised her head.
Alpha Kaelen Draven stood over her, the color drained from his face. His eyes lifted from his brother's body to hers, and they had turned a burning, terrible gold.
He knelt. His hand closed around her throat, not hard enough to choke, but hard enough that she felt how much he wanted to.
"Tell me," he whispered, "why my brother is dead, and why you are covered in his blood."
