Chapter 4 Bloodlines And Betrayal

The dim overhead lights flickered again, casting broken shadows across Liora's cell. Her mind hadn't rested since the mysterious man's visit. Sleep came in ragged waves, interrupted by the echo of his voice, rebellion... warriors... power.

Who was he? And why did he look at her like he already knew what she was?

Liora pulled her knees to her chest on the steel cot, her fingers tracing the edge of the old, torn blanket. The memory of her mother's voice surfaced: soft, always whispering stories of the Old Blood. Stories that were outlawed now. Myths of wolf-blooded ancestors who once ruled the wild lands, their hearts bound to the moon, their bodies to beasts. Shifters, they were called. But the Regime had called it heresy.

She had believed they were just bedtime stories.

Until the night she changed.

No one forgets the first shift, her mother once said. And Liora never would. The pain had torn through her, cracking her bones open like dry wood, her skin splitting, her breath replaced by snarls and howls. She'd been thirteen. Her mother had locked the door and stood guard all night.

But her mother was gone now. Betrayed by someone close, someone who knew what Liora was.

A low growl bubbled in her throat as the old bitterness stirred. She had trusted the wrong person. And she'd paid for it with everything.

The familiar metallic slide of the door opening jolted her upright. A guard stood there, not the mysterious one from before. This one was pale, nervous, and his hand shook as he motioned.

"Get up. You're being moved."

"Moved where?" she asked, already on her feet.

He didn't answer. Typical. She bit back the sarcasm and followed him through the sterile corridor. The other prisoners, those still sane, watched through their bars in silence. Some held their eyes shut, too afraid to look. Others stared hungrily at her, as if sensing the change in her.

They smelled fear. And maybe... power.

The guard led her into a small room, brighter than the cells, yet no less cold. A long glass window stretched across one wall, and behind it stood three figures. Scientists. Observers. Maybe the same bastards who had run tests on her two weeks ago. Needles. Probes. Mind scans.

But it wasn't them who caught her attention.

He was there.

The stranger.

He stood behind the glass like a shadow, expression unreadable, arms crossed. His presence swallowed the others.

A woman in a lab coat entered the room with a clipboard. Middle-aged, tight bun, eyes like razors.

"Liora Vexley," she said without preamble. "We've reviewed your case. You're a genetic anomaly."

Liora said nothing.

"Your lineage includes alpha-level genes from the Solari packs. Very rare. Very dangerous." She scribbled something. "You're classified as Tier One now. Top-level shifter. That changes things."

"What things?" Liora asked.

The woman smiled, and it made her stomach turn.

"You're no longer just a prisoner. You're a weapon."

A sharp knock echoed from the observation glass. The stranger stepped forward, gesturing for the scientist to leave. She hesitated, then obeyed.

Liora turned as the steel door on the far wall opened, and he entered the room.

She stiffened instinctively. Her wolf didn't know whether to attack or submit.

He raised a hand slowly. "I'm not here to harm you."

"That's debatable," she said.

He gave a faint smirk. "Name's Kael. Kael Draven."

His voice had that same dangerous rhythm, low and dark like rolling thunder. This close, she could feel it-he wasn't human. Not even close.

"You're a shifter too," she said, more accusation than question.

Kael nodded. "Born into the Nightclaw pack. Or what's left of it."

Her breath caught. Nightclaw. One of the lost bloodlines. Wiped out twenty years ago in the Regime's first purge.

"They said Nightclaw was extinct."

"They were wrong," he said simply.

Silence stretched between them, a current of recognition pulling tighter.

"Why are you helping me?"

"Because I know what they plan to do to you. You're not just a specimen anymore. They want to weaponize your blood, splice it into synthetic hosts. Create shifter soldiers they can control."

Liora's pulse pounded. "They can't. That kind of bond can't be replicated."

"Exactly. But they'll try. And they'll destroy you in the process."

He stepped closer, dropping his voice.

"But there's a way out. I can get you out. Tonight."

She blinked. "Why me? Why now?"

"Because the rebellion needs you. And because..." He paused, something flickering in his expression. "Your mother died protecting my sister. She was loyal to the Old Code. I owe her a blood debt."

Liora felt the air leave her lungs.

Kael met her gaze, unwavering. "We don't have much time. The extraction team is waiting."

A storm had begun to form inside her: fear, rage, loyalty, and something wild that wanted to run. Her wolf stirred beneath her skin.

"What do I have to do?" she asked.

Kael's smile was grim.

"Trust me. And be ready to shift."