Chapter 4 Ch.4

The morning air was razor-sharp when Oliver woke, her body aching from the cold stone floor beneath the furs Ronan had begrudgingly offered. The rogue den was crude, carved into the side of Ironroot Ridge like a scar from an ancient war. But it was safe. Isolated. Wild.

And it was exactly what she needed.

She sat up slowly, fingers brushing the sweat-soaked hair from her neck. Her muscles screamed from yesterday's training-no, not training. Brutality. Ronan's warriors didn't believe in slow starts or soft hands. If you were weak, you didn't last. That was the rule.

She'd lasted.

Barely.

Boots approached-heavy, steady. Oliver rose to her feet and grabbed the blade she now kept by her sleeping mat.

Kade entered with a faint smirk. "You still breathing?"

"More than I can say for the guy I nearly disarmed yesterday."

"That was Harlan. He liked you."

Oliver snorted. "Didn't show it."

"He grunts when he's impressed. Bleeds when he's really impressed. You made him bleed."

She stretched her shoulders, wincing. "I need more salve."

"There's a riverbank nearby. We'll gather roots later. But first," he tossed her a small leather wrap, "breakfast."

She caught it and unwrapped the jerky and dried nuts inside. As she ate in silence, her mind wandered back to the woman she used to be-sitting in a sun-warmed kitchen in the Emberfang Packhouse, Jason bringing her wild berries from his morning patrols, brushing her hair aside to kiss her temple.

Don't think about him. He's not yours anymore.

"Ronan's waiting," Kade said, nodding toward the den's main tunnel. "He wants to test you again."

She wiped her hands clean, grabbed her blade, and followed him into the fire-lit cavern.

The training arena wasn't glamorous-just a clearing of packed dirt surrounded by jagged stone walls and curious rogues leaning in the shadows.

Ronan stood in the center, spinning his curved dagger in his hand lazily.

He didn't smile when he saw her. "You're late."

"I didn't realize I was on your schedule."

"You are now." He gestured to a tall, lean woman with silver piercings in her ears and two daggers strapped to her back. "This is Mira. She's fast. Mean. She'll gut you if you blink."

Oliver didn't flinch. "Noted."

Mira stepped forward, cracking her neck. "You sure you're not too soft for this, Luna?"

Oliver raised her chin. "Ask Harlan."

"Oh, I heard," Mira said. "But I'm not Harlan."

They circled each other.

Ronan barked, "No claws. No shifting. Blades only."

Then he stepped back, and the air tensed.

Mira struck first-lightning fast. Oliver ducked, rolled, and came up swinging. The clang of metal echoed through the stone chamber as the two women danced across the arena, trading blows that would have drawn blood if not for the thick leather bracers they wore.

Oliver took a slice to the thigh. Mira got a stab to the ribs. They didn't stop.

Pain blurred into instinct. Oliver's heart pounded, her feet moved, her hands followed memory and rage. Every dodge was her remembering how it felt to walk into the packhouse and see Jason's arm around Astrid. Every strike was her reliving the moment he said, I don't know if I love you.

Finally, Mira slipped. Just a second. But it was enough.

Oliver knocked the dagger from her hand and slammed her boot into Mira's chest, pinning her to the dirt with a blade pressed to her throat.

"Yield," she growled.

Mira smirked, breathing hard. "Okay. Not bad."

Oliver stepped back, panting, blood dripping down her leg.

Ronan gave a low whistle. "Didn't expect you to win that one."

"You're not the only one who underestimated me."

He chuckled. "You keep this up, Thorn, and I might actually start respecting you."

She sheathed her blade. "Good. Because I'm not here to play pet. I'm here to burn them down."

Ronan's eyes gleamed. "Then tomorrow, we start with poison."

Kade called from the side, "Oh, she's already got a talent for that."

She ignored him, limping back toward the den, every muscle vibrating from effort.

Back in her small quarters, she cleaned her wounds carefully, biting back every hiss of pain. There was no healer here. No soft voice whispering, "You're pushing too hard." No Jason pressing cool kisses to her brow.

She liked it better that way.

That night, she dreamed of fire.

Of Jason, kneeling.

Of Astrid screaming.

Of a packhouse collapsing into ash while she walked away, blade in hand, crown of thorns glowing silver under a blood moon.

She woke with a gasp, chest heaving, sweat clinging to her back.

And someone was watching her.

She grabbed her dagger and flung it.

It stopped inches from Kade's shoulder.

"Shit," he muttered, raising his hands. "Okay. That's new."

"Don't sneak up on me."

"Noted."

He walked in, dragging a sack behind him. "We got word from Elias."

She froze. "What did he say?"

"He's still inside. Still safe. But..." Kade paused. "Jason's starting to notice you're gone."

Oliver swallowed hard.

"He's not showing it," Kade added. "Not in front of Astrid, anyway. But he's asked Elias about you. Twice."

"And Elias?"

"Told him you left to find peace. That you weren't coming back."

She looked away. "He's right."

Kade crouched beside her. "That's not the full story, though. Is it?"

She didn't respond.

He opened the sack, revealing an assortment of scrolls, parchments, and old, leather-bound books.

"What's this?"

"From the ruins near the Whispering Pines. Old rituals. Binding spells. Blood magic. Even something about the Moon Mother's lost bloodline."

Oliver's brow furrowed. "Why would I need blood magic?"

Kade held her gaze.

"Because there's a reason Astrid wanted you out of the way."

Oliver's breath caught.

"She didn't just want Jason," Kade said. "She wanted you silenced. And people don't silence threats unless they're afraid of what they can become."

Oliver stared down at the parchment now in her hands-strange symbols scrawled in faded ink, a diagram of a wolf with silver fire bleeding from its eyes.

"Read fast," Kade said. "Because whatever Astrid's planning... it's already started."

The packhouse was quieter than usual.

Too quiet.

Jason stood by the arched window of the Alpha's quarters, staring out into the pine-covered hills of Emberfang territory. The morning sun filtered through the thick mist, soft and golden, but it didn't warm him. Not anymore.

Behind him, Astrid was humming. Off-key.

She always hummed in the morning-especially after spending the night tangled in his sheets, whispering promises he never believed, tracing patterns on his chest like she owned him.

"Why so broody, Alpha?" she asked, sliding up behind him in nothing but his white shirt and her pride. "Don't tell me you're still thinking about her."

He didn't answer right away.

Astrid moved closer, arms wrapping around his waist like vines-tight and unyielding. "Oliver's gone. She left. You didn't force her out."

But he had. Not with words. Not directly. But in every damn way that mattered.

He had erased her.

The woman who once ruled beside him. The woman who had bled with him in the battlefield, soothed his demons at night, and held the pack together with nothing but stubborn grace and sacrifice.

And he traded her.

He didn't know why. He told himself it was the bond-that pull toward Astrid, the intoxicating scent that made his wolf restless, made his skin burn. The universe had chosen. Fate had spoken.

But every morning since Oliver left, that pull had grown dull.

He hadn't seen her eyes-those stormy, defiant eyes-in weeks. Hadn't heard her voice or tasted her truth.

And now, everything felt... wrong.

"Jason?" Astrid's voice softened, but there was something hard beneath it. "You're thinking too loud again."

"I didn't say anything."

"You didn't have to."

She turned him around, rising on her toes to kiss him. He let her. Out of habit. Out of guilt. Out of some warped sense of loyalty to the goddess he never prayed to.

But it wasn't the same.

Her lips weren't Oliver's.

And her touch didn't make the ache disappear.

Astrid noticed.

She always did.

She pulled back, studying him with cold, clever eyes. "Maybe you need to get out of the house. Run with the patrol. Or maybe..." Her fingers brushed down his chest. "You just need to let go of the past."

He stepped away, jaw tight. "She was my Luna. You don't just forget that."

"She wasn't your fated mate."

"She was more than that."

That silenced her.

He didn't say anything else.

Instead, he pulled on his shirt and headed down the corridor toward the council chamber. He needed distraction. Purpose. War, if the goddess was listening.

The hallway echoed with his footsteps.

Once, Oliver would've been walking beside him, teasing him about the creaking floorboards or the crooked chandelier he always swore he'd fix.

Now, the silence mocked him.

As he reached the chamber doors, Elias-his Gamma-was already waiting, arms crossed, dark circles under his eyes.

"Alpha," Elias said stiffly.

"Report."

"There's been activity near the Ironroot Ridge. We tracked rogue movement-fast, coordinated."

Jason frowned. "Rogues don't coordinate."

"These ones do."

Jason narrowed his eyes. "And you think it's-"

"I didn't say anything," Elias cut in quickly. "But you're thinking it."

Jason exhaled. "It's not her."

"You sure about that?"

Jason didn't respond.

Elias studied him. "She's not coming back, Jason."

"I know."

"No. You don't. Because if you did, you wouldn't still be sleeping beside the one who helped drive her out."

Jason's head snapped up. "What did you say?"

"You heard me," Elias said, voice low. "Astrid didn't just show up and claim her mate. She manipulated the elders. Spread rumors. Poisoned the pack against Oliver. She made damn sure there was no way back."

"I would've seen that."

"No," Elias said. "You were too busy being enchanted. Or distracted. Or selfish. Take your pick."

Jason slammed his fist on the council table, and the echo cracked like thunder through the room. "Enough."

Elias didn't flinch.

"I know I failed her," Jason growled. "I know I broke her. I don't need you reminding me."

"Then do something about it."

"What? Go after her? Bring her back in chains?"

"No," Elias said simply. "Let her rise."

Jason blinked.

"Because if what I've heard is true, Alpha... she's already rising. And when she comes back, she won't be looking for forgiveness."

Jason's heart dropped like a stone in his chest.