Lena's world shattered, Sylvara's words your mother was a wolf, a blade slicing through everything she'd known. Her breath froze in the ravine's mist-soaked air, Blackwood Forest's dawn a cold cage around her. Her mark burned under her hoodie, pulsing with her hammering heart, and Kael's arm, warm and unyielding, was the only thing keeping her upright. His gold-flecked eyes, wide with shock, mirrored her own, but his growl vibrated through her, fierce, protective, grounding her as the howls sharpened, a chorus of hunger closing in.
"My mom?" Lena's voice cracked, raw with disbelief, her hazel eyes darting from Kael to the spot where Sylvara stood, her cloaked form half-lost in the pines' shadows. "She was... a wolf? That's impossible!" Her mind reeled, flashing to her mother, soft-spoken, always tired, weaving vague stories of "family quirks" before she died when Lena was twelve.
The pendant, the voice, her blood's ozone tang, they weren't random. They were her, hidden, lied about. Her knees buckled, but Kael caught her, his hands framing her face, thumbs brushing her cheeks, sparking heat through the bond that screamed mine.
"Lena," he murmured, voice rough, love pouring through his touch, his scent drowning the forest's chill.
"Breathe, love. I've got you." His lips grazed her forehead, a desperate anchor, but his eyes flicked to Sylvara, claws flexing, rage simmering beneath his worry. The howls were louder now, not just Sylvara's strange wolves but others, drawn by Lena's blood, her truth.
She shoved at his chest, not hard, needing space to think, her hands trembling as they fisted his torn jacket. "She lied to me," Lena whispered, tears pricking, her voice breaking.
"My whole life, Kael she hid this, hid me." Her mark flared, hot and accusing, and she clutched her neck, the pendant's hum echoing in her memory, its runes a language her mother must've known. "Why didn't she tell me? Why let me think I was... normal?"
Kael's wolf whined, hating her pain, and he pulled her closer, his arms a fortress, his lips brushing her temple. "I don't know," he said, voice thick, raw with shared grief. "But you're not alone, Lena. You're my mate, my everything. We'll figure this out—your mom, your blood, all of it." His gold eyes burned, love fierce and unshakable, and she leaned into him, her hands sliding up his chest, feeling his heartbeat, wild and steady, a vow he'd fight the world for her.
Sylvara's voice cut through, low, sorrowful, her cloak billowing as she stepped closer, her silver hair glinting under her hood. "She hid you to protect you," she said, her moonlight eyes heavy with secrets. "Your mother, Elara, was no ordinary wolf. Her blood, like yours, carried the old magic, the power to bind or break our kind. She fled to keep you from those who'd claim it." Her gaze softened, almost maternal, and Lena's stomach twisted, a spark of recognition she couldn't place.
"Elara?" Lena echoed, the name a stranger's, yet it ached, like a memory buried too deep.
She stepped toward Sylvara, Kael's arm tightening, his growl warning her to stay back.
"You knew her? Why tell me now? What do you want?" Her voice rose, defiance cutting through her fear, the bond with Kael fueling her fire. Her blood tingled, not just with panic but power, surging under her skin, waking with every word.
Sylvara's lips parted, but a howl—guttural, too close, swallowed her answer. The wolves she'd commanded snarled, breaking their eerie stillness, and her eyes widened, urgency cracking her calm. "They've found you," she said, voice dropping, her gloved hand raised as if to ward off the mist itself. "Run, Lena. Your blood calls them, and I cannot stop them all."
Before Lena could demand more, Sylvara vanished, her cloak melting into the trees, silent as a ghost, leaving only her warning and the weight of Lena's heritage. Kael cursed, his claws breaking skin, and yanked Lena behind a jagged boulder, his body shielding hers as the howls erupted, a cacophony of hate. "Stay close," he growled, his voice half-beast, gold eyes scanning the ravine's rim, where shadows moved, too many, too fast.
"Kael, my mom..." Lena started, her voice trembling, but his hand cupped her cheek, silencing her with a look that poured love and urgency through their bond. "We'll find answers," he said, fierce, his thumb tracing her lip, sparking shivers despite the danger. "But first, we survive." He kissed her, hard, desperate, his lips claiming hers with a hunger that burned away the world—Sylvara, her mother, the wolves. She kissed him back, fierce, her hands tangling in his black hair, nails digging into his scalp, their bond exploding, a wildfire of need and trust.
The kiss broke as a rock skittered above, and Kael spun, shoving Lena deeper into the boulder's shadow, his claws glinting. Her heart raced, her mother's name Elara a wound, but Kael's love was a shield, his touch lingering on her skin, promising forever if they made it.
She crouched, her sneakers silent on frost, her blood humming, stronger now, like it answered the howls, not with fear but defiance. She wasn't just Lena Harper, barista, human. She was... more.
"Kael," she whispered, gripping his arm, her hazel eyes fierce despite the tears. "I'm not running without you." Her mark pulsed, her strength unnatural, and she felt it, a spark, not just the bond but her, waking, ready to fight.
His smile, raw and proud, stole her breath. "My fighter," he murmured, stealing another kiss, quick, deep, his hand sliding to her waist, possessive. "Stay sharp, love." His voice was a vow, but his eyes darkened, nostrils flaring as a new scent hit-bitter, sharp, familiar. Zane.
The ravine's rim erupted, figures leaping down, not wolves but men, half-shifted, their claws gleaming like knives. Zane led them, his blonde hair stark in the mist, blue eyes icy with hate, his pack—ten, maybe twelve fanning out, cutting off escape. But it wasn't their numbers that stopped Lena's heart. It was their weapons. Swords, silver and cruel, glinted in their hands, etched with runes that hummed like the pendant, like her blood. Not just claws, not just wolves, something older, deadlier.
"Kael!" Lena gasped, her voice barely audible, fear spiking through their bond as Zane's pack closed in, swords raised, their steps silent, practiced, a noose of steel and fury. Kael's growl shook the air, his body coiling, half-shifting, black fur rippling, but his eyes flicked to her, love and dread warring, knowing they were outnumbered, outmatched.
"Lena," he said, voice low, fierce, his hand finding hers, lacing their fingers, a final anchor as Zane's smirk widened, his sword glinting with intent. "Whatever happens, you're mine."
Her breath caught, her mark burning, her blood singing with a power she didn't understand, and she squeezed his hand, her voice a whisper, defiant, unbroken. "And you're mine."
Zane raised his sword, the runes flaring, and his pack surged, blades flashing, surrounding them in a ring of death.