The Alpha Who Ordered Me Away

OneThe Summons

The envelope had my name on it in black ink, and the man holding it looked like he would rather be anywhere else.

I stared at him from across the kitchen table.

He stared back.

Between us sat a cup of tea I’d forgotten to drink and a kitchen knife I’d been using to slice an apple.

His gaze dropped to the knife.

Mine dropped to the silver seal on the envelope.

Neither of us moved.

Finally, I sighed.

“If you’re here to rob me, you’re doing a terrible job.”

His eyebrows pulled together.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You’ve been standing there for almost a minute looking like you’re waiting for me to explode.”

“You might.”

I glanced at the knife.

Then at him.

“That depends. Are you about to tell me my rent is increasing?”

“No.”

“Good. Then we’re making progress.”

The stranger didn’t smile.

Apparently, humor had died somewhere on the road to my little house.

He wore a black coat despite the mild weather, the collar turned up against his throat. A silver insignia rested over his chest—two wolves facing a crescent moon.

I didn’t recognize the crest.

That bothered me more than the man.

I knew most of the surrounding territories. Growing up in a place where wolves gossiped more efficiently than telephones had made ignorance difficult.

The stranger stepped closer and placed the envelope on the table.

The seal caught the light.

A black wolf.

A crescent.

Three small stars beneath it.

“Vaelith Arden?”

My fingers tightened around the knife.

“Who wants to know?”

“Alpha Draven Kael.”

The knife stopped halfway toward the apple.

I looked up.

For the first time, the stranger seemed almost uncomfortable.

That made two of us.

Everyone knew Draven Kael.

You didn’t have to belong to a major territory to know his name.

Blackthorn’s Alpha.

The man who had taken control of the northern territories before most Alphas his age had finished learning how to wear a crown.

Ruthless.

Cold.

Unforgiving.

Those were the polite descriptions.

I had heard worse.

I pushed the knife away.

“What does he want?”

The messenger didn’t answer.

Instead, he nodded toward the envelope.

“Read it.”

“I asked what he wants.”

“His order is inside.”

That word settled badly in my stomach.

Order.

Not request.

Not invitation.

Order.

I picked up the envelope.

It was heavier than paper should have been.

The seal wasn’t wax.

It was silver.

And beneath my fingertips, it felt strangely warm.

I frowned.

The messenger watched me carefully.

“You can leave now.”

His expression changed.

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m supposed to make sure you go.”

I laughed once.

There was nothing funny about it.

“You’re serious.”

“Very.”

I leaned back in my chair.

“Then you should know something about me.”

He waited.

“I don’t take orders from strangers.”

His jaw tightened.

“You may want to reconsider.”

“Why?”

He looked toward the window.

For one strange moment, his confidence disappeared.

“Because this one comes directly from the Alpha.”

I looked at the envelope again.

Something about it felt wrong.

Not dangerous.

Familiar.

That was worse.

I broke the seal.

The paper inside contained only three lines.

VAELITH ARDEN.

REPORT TO BLACKTHORN TERRITORY.

YOU ARE EXPECTED BEFORE THE NEXT MOONRISE.

No explanation.

No reason.

No signature.

Just an order.

I read it twice.

Then a third time.

“That’s it?”

The messenger nodded.

“You expect me to abandon everything because some Alpha I’ve never met wrote three lines on a piece of paper?”

“He doesn’t expect you to abandon anything.”

“Then what does he expect?”

The messenger’s eyes settled on mine.

“He expects you to obey.”

Something inside me went very still.

I folded the letter.

“No.”

The word came easily.

Too easily.

The messenger blinked.

“No?”

“No.”

“You understand who issued this order?”

“Yes.”

“Then you understand what refusing means.”

“I assume you’ll enlighten me.”

His mouth tightened.

“Alpha Draven doesn’t repeat himself.”

“Neither do I.”

Silence.

Then, unexpectedly, the corner of his mouth twitched.

I narrowed my eyes.

“Was that a smile?”

“No.”

“It looked suspiciously like one.”

“It wasn’t.”

“Good. I’d hate to think you’re starting to like me.”

The almost-smile vanished.

I smiled despite myself.

Then the messenger reached into his coat.

My hand immediately moved toward the knife.

He stopped.

Slowly, he withdrew a second envelope.

This one was smaller.

Older.

The paper had yellowed at the edges.

He placed it beside the first.

“This wasn’t part of the Alpha’s order.”

I stared at it.

“Then what is it?”

“I was told to give it to you only if you refused.”

My smile disappeared.

“By whom?”

He hesitated.

“Your guardian.”

My breath caught.

The room suddenly felt too small.

My guardian had been dead for years.

I reached for the envelope.

The handwriting on the front was unmistakable.

I knew those letters.

I’d seen them on birthday cards, grocery lists, school notes, and the last letter she’d left on my bedside table.

My fingers trembled.

I opened it.

Inside was a single sentence.

If Blackthorn ever calls your name, go. Don’t trust the Alpha. But don’t run from him either.

I read it once.

Then again.

The messenger watched me.

I looked up slowly.

“What does this mean?”

“I don’t know.”

“You’re lying.”

“I swear I’m not.”

I pushed away from the table.

My chair scraped against the floor.

“Why would my guardian leave a message about Blackthorn?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why would Draven Kael know my name?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why would he order me there?”

“I don’t know.”

The stranger exhaled.

“You’re asking the wrong person.”

“Then tell me who I should ask.”

His eyes hardened.

“Draven.”

I hated that answer.

Mostly because it was probably the right one.

I turned toward the window.

Beyond the glass, the trees shifted beneath the wind. My little home had always been quiet. Predictable.

Safe.

I’d built my life around those three things.

I had work.

A small circle of people I trusted.

A future I’d planned without anyone else’s permission.

Blackthorn wasn’t part of it.

Neither was Draven Kael.

Yet the moment I thought his name, something strange stirred beneath my skin.

A faint warmth.

Right beneath my collarbone.

I touched the spot.

The warmth vanished.

I frowned.

“Did you feel that?”

The messenger went pale.

“Feel what?”

I looked at him.

He was staring at my neck.

Not my face.

My neck.

Slowly, his gaze lifted.

“What?”

He swallowed.

“You should pack.”

My heartbeat stumbled.

“Why?”

He didn’t answer.

I reached for the small mirror hanging beside the kitchen door.

At first, I saw nothing.

Then I turned my head.

A faint silver line shimmered beneath my skin.

It curved like a crescent.

I had never seen it before.

My fingers went cold.

“What is that?”

The messenger stepped backward.

“That’s impossible.”

I looked at him through the mirror.

“What is?”

He didn’t answer.

“Tell me.”

His face had lost every trace of color.

“That mark…”

He stared at it as though he’d seen a ghost.

“Where did you get it?”

“I don’t know.”

His breathing changed.

For the first time since he’d entered my home, the messenger looked genuinely afraid.

Not of me.

For me.

“Vaelith,” he whispered.

I turned.

“What?”

He pointed toward the silver mark.

“That is why he summoned you.”

My pulse hammered.

“Why?”

He looked at the Alpha’s sealed letter lying on my table.

Then back at me.

And when he spoke, his voice was barely audible.

“Because Alpha Draven Kael has been looking for that mark his entire life.”

The room went silent.

I stared at the silver crescent beneath my skin.

Then at the order.

And suddenly, the question wasn’t whether I would go to Blackthorn.

It was much worse.

Why had Draven Kael been looking for me before he even knew my name?