Dominic had finally killed the warlock by tearing into his face. He called Cameron to take the body away and perform the dying ritual he deserved, burning him. Now, he was in the bedroom as the pack's healer tended to Elena.
Dominic sat at the edge of the bed, his hands clenched into fists, his gaze fixed on Elena's pale face. Her breathing was steady but shallow, her body still, as if trapped in a restless sleep. The healer's touch had helped, but traces of dark magic still remained in her veins.
"How is she?" Dominic asked.
"She's stable," the healer assured him. "But there's dark magic inside her. "I'll prepare a concoction and send it over. She should wake up in a few hours."
Dominic gave a slow nod. "Thank you."
The healer gave a small smile before slipping out of the room, the scent of herbs and old magic trailing in her wake. She closed the door softly behind her, leaving him alone with Elena.
Dominic reached out, brushing a loose strand of hair from Elena's face. "I'm so sorry, beautiful," he whispered, his thumb grazing over her cheeks. "This happened because of me. I should have seen it coming..."
The door creaked open, and Cameron, Sean, and Jasmine entered, their faces tense with worry.
"How is she?" Cameron asked.
Dominic quickly wiped his eyes before turning to them. "She'll wake up soon."
Jasmine held up the broken arrow in a gloved hand. "There was a spell laced in the tip," she said. "A nasty one. I checked it out, it wasn't meant to kill, just incapacitate."
"Coward's move. He knew you couldn't be touched," Sean added. "So he targeted her instead."
The warlock knew exactly where to strike, and he let it happen. Frustration and self-loathing burned inside him. He should have been faster and stronger. But he wasn't. Instead, he had failed the woman he loves most. If he couldn't protect her, how could he protect his pack?
"But Elena has her own powers," Cameron reminded him. "She's stronger than she looks. We just have to be careful from now on."
"If they figure out she can't be killed, they'll start coming after the rest of us," said Jasmine.
"We need solutions," Dominic said, running a hand down his face. The warlock is dead, but the danger hadn't passed. "We'll meet with the elders and see what can be done. And we still haven't found the werewitch..."
Sean cursed under his breath. "We've been searching, but she's covering her scent. She knows how to stay hidden."
Dominic let out a slow breath. "We keep searching, she can't hide forever. In the meantime, we prepare for whatever's coming. No more mistakes. We can't afford them."
No one had to say it aloud, but this was far from over. The room fell into silence as they just had to survive what came next.
***
Freya sat cross-legged on her bedroom floor, surrounded by a mess of ancient books. The scent of old paper filled the air as she carefully turned the pages of a worn tome, its spine cracked with age.
She skimmed the faded text, her eyes narrowing.
The beautiful witch had been consumed by fury when the Alpha abandoned her to marry his Luna. In her wrath, she called upon the most powerful dark magic, weaving a curse that would mark the end of his legacy.
The end of his legacy? What did that mean? His bloodline? His power? How could a single curse unravel everything an Alpha had built?
She flipped the page, but the ink was smudged, the words barely legible beneath the stains of time. Running her fingers over the rough parchment, she wondered—was the curse real? And if it was... what exactly had the witch done?
With a sigh, she set the book aside and reached for another: How to Be a True Werewolf.
As she turned the pages, the worn paper whispered secrets of ancient werewolves. The first chapter detailed the rites of passage: what it meant to truly embrace the beast within—strength, control, and blood. But no matter how much she read, her thoughts kept circling back to the cursed Alpha and the witch's revenge.
Had she destroyed his bloodline? Prevented him from producing an heir? The answer was lost in the faded ink and crumbling parchment, leaving only speculation.
She had barely made it through the first few pages when a sound outside her window made her freeze.
The night was quiet. No wind. Yet something felt... off. The air was different, the silence too heavy, as if it were a warning.
Freya put the book down, her fingers resting on the rough pages. Then, slowly, she stood.
In the window, her reflection stared back, her eyes glowing faintly—like the power inside her was stirring, waiting.
She took a step forward, heart pounding.
Was it just the night playing tricks on her?
Or was something out there, watching... waiting for the right moment to emerge?
Holding her breath, she peered into the darkness beyond the window. The trees swayed, but their movement felt wrong, too controlled, as if they weren't moving on their own.
Swallowing hard, she reached for the curtain.
Then, a shadow shifted.
Freya's pulse slammed against her ribs. She wasn't imagining it. Something or someone was out there.
She took a slow breath, forcing herself to stay calm. If she was truly turning into a werewolf, she had to start thinking like one. She had to trust her instincts.
Her gaze flickered to the book—How to Be a True Werewolf. It spoke of heightened senses, super speed, and strength. But what about control? She needed to learn how to use her powers, not just let them take over.
Another rustling sound. Closer this time.
Freya clenched her fists, her breath steady. Enough waiting. She turned toward the door, ready to face whatever was out there.
Just as her fingers brushed the handle, a whisper drifted through the night, soft yet barely there, but clear.
"Freya."
She froze.
Who was calling her?
And why did their voice feel like a memory?
****
Dominic and Cameron stepped into the kitchen. Cameron moved to the cabinet, pulling out a bottle of wine. He grabbed two glasses, setting them on the island before pouring a generous amount into one and handing it to Dominic.
Dominic held back, his fingers wrapping around the glass as he met Cameron's gaze with silent concern.
"You need it," Cameron said simply. "It'll help you calm down."
With a quiet sigh, Dominic took the glass while Cameron poured one for himself.
"Elena will be fine," Cameron reassured him. "She'll wake up in less than an hour."
Dominic's lips parted as he let out a deep breath, his eyes momentarily fluttering shut. He absently swirled the wine in his glass without drinking. "I put her in danger. She's in this situation because of me."
"You were hurt too," Cameron pointed out. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm fine," Dominic said, brushing off the concern. "It's Elena I'm worried about."
Cameron took a slow sip of his wine. "She's strong. She'll pull through."
A soft, teasing voice broke through the room.
"Hello, handsome..."
Both men turned toward the kitchen entryway. Elena stood there, leaning against the doorframe. She looked slightly pale, but her eyes still held their usual spark.
Dominic was by her side in an instant. "Hey, why did you come downstairs? You should've called me."
Elena gave him a small smile. "I'm fine. Besides, you and Cameron were noisy, and I could feel how worried you were about me. It was overwhelming." She glanced at Cameron. "I had to come down and show you both that I'm as strong as you say."
Dominic pulled her into his arms, holding her close. "I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to you. Without your love, I'm nothing. With it, there's nothing I can't do."
She brushed her lips against his. "I know."
Dominic pulled back slightly, his gaze searching hers. "Did you drink the concoction the healer left for you?"
Elena wrinkled her nose. "It was awful. I had to close my eyes just to get it down."
Dominic chuckled, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.
Elena's expression turned curious. "What happened to the man? I saw blood in the living room."
Cameron smirked. "His face got pretty smashed up."
"And he was... taken care of," Dominic added.
Elena pouted. "I'm sad I missed the fun."
Cameron set his glass down. "I'll send someone to clean up the living room tomorrow."
"That would be great," Elena said with a grateful nod.
"I should get going. Hope you feel better soon," Cameron said.
"Thank you," Elena said with a smile as he gave her a brief side hug.
"Jasmine and Sean were here earlier," Cameron added.
"I know. I'll call them," she replied.
Cameron walked out of the kitchen as they heard the front door open and close.
Dominic and Elena exited the kitchen and took in the mess in the living room. Broken glass littered the floor, blood stained the tiles, and the sofas were askew. The room was a wreck, clear evidence of the fight that had taken place.
Elena sighed. "Well... that's a mess."
Dominic slipped an arm around her waist. "Yeah. But you're safe, and that's all that matters."
She leaned into him, her fingers brushing over his hand. "I suppose we'll just have to get used to cleaning up after your fights."
Dominic smirked. "I'll try to make less of a disaster next time."
Elena raised a brow. "No promises, huh?"
He kissed the top of her head. "None at all."
***
Cameroon was walking to his apartment when he noticed two men chasing a lady. She was running frantically.
He sprinted toward them and fought them off. When the attackers fled, his eyes fell on her, curled up on the ground.
She was beautiful—blonde, with a noticeable scar on her cheek. She wore a black shirt and black denim jeans, her wide eyes were filled with fear, even in the darkness of the night.