The forest whispered secrets just before dawn. Elena walked through the dew-laced woods behind Blackthorne Manor, guided only by the soft orange glow edging the horizon. The mansion still slept, cloaked in shadows and silence, but her heart was wide awake.
She hadn't slept since the kiss.
Since Lucien's warning.
Since the howl that cracked the night open.
She hadn't meant to wander this far. What began as a restless walk had turned into something else—a pull. As if the trees themselves called her deeper, whispering, "Come and see."
And then she did.
Through a thick veil of mist, across a clearing shaped like a crescent moon, Elena saw him.
Lucien.
Or what used to be Lucien.
A massive wolf stood at the center of the glade—silver-gray with streaks of midnight black, eyes glowing gold like embers. His breath curled in the cold air, his chest heaving. Not an ordinary beast. No. This creature was regal. Dangerous. Devastatingly beautiful.
She froze, her breath caught in her lungs. She knew, instantly, it was him.
He didn't see her.
Not yet.
He raised his head and sniffed the air. Tense. Alert. Then
Another howl cut through the woods, deep and guttural. Not his. The wolf that was Lucien bared his teeth, a low growl reverberating through the trees. And then, in a blur of shadow and speed, he vanished into the forest.
Elena stayed rooted to the spot long after he'd gone. Her heart beat against her ribs like a trapped bird.
She had just seen the impossible.
Lucien Blackthorne was not merely cursed.
He was a wolf.
And something else—something worse—was out there with him.
By the time she returned to the manor, the sun had begun to rise. She slipped in through the rear solarium, trying not to draw attention. But she wasn't alone.
Someone waited in the hallway.
Tall, dark-haired, and unfamiliar.
"Miss Rivers," the stranger said, voice smooth like melted ice. "You shouldn't wander these woods alone."
Elena stiffened. "Who are you?"
He smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Kael."
She blinked. The name echoed like a memory—Lucien had mentioned him once. A rival. An exile.
"You're one of Lucien's… friends?"
Kael chuckled. "I used to be many things to Lucien. Friend. Brother. Enemy."
That last word lingered in the air like smoke.
He took a step toward her. She instinctively stepped back.
"No need to be afraid," Kael said. "Not yet."
"Is that supposed to be comforting?" she asked.
"Just honest." His eyes narrowed. "Be careful who you trust in this house, Elena."
Before she could respond, he turned and disappeared down the corridor, his presence vanishing like a wraith.
Elena didn't tell Lucien about Kael.
Not yet.
When she saw him that afternoon—dressed sharply in black, the pendant still resting against his chest—he looked more guarded than ever. He didn't mention the kiss. Or the warning. Or the wolf.
Instead, he simply asked, "Did you sleep well?"
She looked at him for a long moment.
"Well enough," she lied.
He nodded. "Good. I'll be gone for the evening. Pack business."
A beat.
"Lucien," she said, "are you safe out there?"
His eyes flickered. "Always."
And then he was gone.
But Elena wasn't content to wait.
Not anymore.
She returned to the library that evening, combing through ancient texts she'd previously ignored. They weren't just legends. They were history—Blackthorne history. She found sketches of wolves larger than horses. Descriptions of ancient rituals. Symbols carved into skin. Curses tied to moonlight and bloodlines. And in one tattered volume, bound in cracked leather, she found a name: Kael Blackthorne.
Banished for challenging the alpha. Returning only in blood.
A cold shiver ran through her.
Lucien hadn't just exiled a rival.
He'd exiled his blood.
That night, Lucien ran again.
Through the trees, into the heart of the Blackthorne territory.
Kael's scent was everywhere—provocative, mocking. He was toying with the borders, daring Lucien to react. But it wasn't just a power play.
It was a warning.
A reckoning was coming.
And Lucien knew that Elena was now at the center of it.
He had tried to keep her at arm's length. Had tried to protect her from the truth, from himself.
But it was too late.
She had seen him.
She knew.
And Kael… Kael knew that too.
Which meant she wasn't just at risk from Lucien's curse.
She was a target.
Lucien stood atop a ridge as the full moon emerged, casting its silver glow over the forest.
He howled—not in challenge, but in promise.
If Kael wanted war, he would have it.
But not at the cost of Elena.
Not her.
Never her.
Back at the manor, Elena lit a single candle and stared out the window into the dark.
She had glimpsed something beastly.
And instead of fear, she felt something far more dangerous.
Longing.