Kira POV
"Either way, someone was going to die tonight."
Damon's words echoed in my head as I watched him pace back and forth. His warriors stood frozen, waiting for directions. In the distance, I could hear the infected rogues beginning to scream as the Red Death took hold of their minds.
Six hours. That's all we had before they went totally crazy and started attacking everyone around them.
"Let me help them," I begged. "Please. I know you don't trust me, but those people are going to suffer horribly if we don't do something."
"And my pack will suffer if you're lying about having a cure."
"I'm not lying about this!" I fought against the chains around my wrists. "The medicine I've been stealing—it really does slow down the sickness. I've seen it work dozens of times."
"Slow it down isn't the same as curing it."
He was right. The herbs and medicines I'd been taking from his stores could buy time, maybe even save some of the infected wolves. But they weren't a real fix. Nothing was.
The Red Death had been killing rogues for almost a year now, and no one knew where it came from or how to stop it forever. All we could do was try to ease the pain and hope some dogs were strong enough to fight it off.
"Even if I can't cure them, I can help them die peacefully instead of in agony," I said. "Isn't that worth something?"
Damon stopped walking. For a long moment, he just stared at me with those cold blue eyes.
"Jake," he called to one of his soldiers. "How many of our people were in contact with the infected rogues?"
"Fifteen, sir. The transport team and the guards."
"Quarantine them immediately. Full separation until we know if they've been infected."
"Yes, Alpha."
As his men ran to follow orders, Damon crouched down beside me again. This close, I could see the fear he was trying to hide. He was terrified—not for himself, but for his pack.
Just like I was afraid for the rogues who were about to die horrible deaths.
"If I let you try to help them," he said softly, "you work under guard. Any suspicious moves, any attempt to run or hurt my people, and I'll put you down myself. Understood?"
Hope flared in my chest. "You're going to let me try?"
"I'm going to let you prove you're not completely worthless." His voice was harsh, but I could hear the struggle underneath. "Don't make me regret it."
He released my chains, and I rubbed my sore wrists. The mate bond hummed with acceptance, happy that we were finally working together instead of fighting.
"I'll need access to your medical supplies," I said. "And a place to work where the sick wolves can be isolated but comfortable."
"The old training building. It's empty and far enough from the main pack house to limit any spread."
Within an hour, his soldiers had moved the infected rogues to the isolated building. I worked as fast as I could, mixing the plants and medicines that had helped other wolves survive the Red Death.
But as I knelt beside the first patient—a young woman about my age—I could see it was already too late for some of them. Her eyes were solid red, and foam bubbled from her mouth. When she looked at me, there was no recognition left. Only hunger and rage.
"This one's too far gone," I told Damon. "The kindest thing would be to put her out of her misery."
"Do it yourself."
I stared at him in shock. "What?"
"If you want me to trust you, show you can make hard choices. End her suffering."
My hands shook as I prepared the shot that would stop her heart. I'd never killed anyone before, even to be humane. But listening to her inhuman growls and seeing the pain in her face, I knew it was the right thing to do.
"I'm sorry," I whispered to her, and pushed the needle into her arm.
She went still almost instantly. The horrible sounds stopped, and for the first time in hours, there was peace on her face.
"Good," Damon said. It wasn't mean, just matter-of-fact. "How many others are that far gone?"
I checked the remaining cases. Three more were beyond saving. The other five still had a chance if I could get the medicine into them quickly enough.
For the next four hours, I worked like I'd never worked before. Mixing doses, checking temps, holding down wolves who were crazed with fever. Damon stayed the whole time, watching everything I did but also helping when I needed extra hands.
Slowly, the herbs started working. Fevers dropped. The red faded from eyes. Two wolves who'd been asleep woke up asking for water.
"It's working," I breathed, hardly daring to believe it.
"Don't celebrate yet," Damon warned. "We still need to make sure none of my people got infected."
But his voice was softer than before. Almost... impressed?
As dawn broke through the windows, I finally allowed myself to fall into a chair. Three wolves had died, but five were going to live. It wasn't perfect, but it was something.
"Thank you," said one of the recovered rogues—an older guy with gray hair. "You saved our lives."
"Don't thank me," I answered tiredly. "Thank Alpha Steele. He's the one who chose to help you."
The man looked shocked. "An Alpha helped rogues? That's... unusual."
It really was. Most pack Alphas would have just let the infected dogs die rather than risk their own people. But Damon had chosen differently.
Maybe there was hope for us after all.
"Get some rest," Damon told me. "We'll talk more later."
I was too tired to argue. But as I started to leave, he caught my arm.
"You did well tonight," he said quietly. "Better than I expected."
It was the first kind thing he'd ever said to me. The mate bond nearly purred with happiness.
"Does this mean you trust me now?"
"No. But it means I'm willing to think that you might not be completely evil."
I laughed despite my tiredness. "High praise from the Iron Alpha."
"Don't get used to it."
But there was almost a smile on his face when he said it.
I made it halfway across the pack grounds before Lydia stopped me. Her face was grim.
"Kira, we need to talk. Now."
"Can't it wait? I'm dead on my feet."
"No, it can't wait." She grabbed my arm and pulled me toward a private area behind the pack house. "We just got word from the border spies. There's been an attack."
My blood went cold. "What kind of attack?"
"The Blackwood Pack. Your father's land." Lydia's voice was barely a whisper. "Someone hit them hard last night. Killed dozens of wolves, including most of the leadership."
"No." The word came out as a gasp. "My father—is he—"
"He's living. Barely. But Kira..." She paused, looking sick. "The attackers left a message. They said they were looking for someone. They said they knew the Alpha's daughter wasn't really dead."
The world spun around me. Someone had attacked my father's pack looking for me. People had died because of me. "Who would do that?" I whispered.
"We don't know yet. But there's more." Lydia's grip tightened on my arm. "The attack happened at the exact same time you were here saving those sick rogues. Someone used your position as a distraction, knowing all of Damon's attention would be focused on the Red Death crisis."
"You think someone planned this? The timing?"
"I think someone wanted you here, busy and unable to help your father's pack when they needed you most."
Horror washed over me as the consequences sank in. The infected rogues showed up right when they did. The convenient time of everything. Even my capture by Damon's soldiers.
"You think it was all a setup," I breathed.
"I think someone has been shaping events to get exactly what they wanted. The question is: what do they want with you?"
Before I could answer, a howl echoed across the pack grounds. Not a normal howl, but something filled with grief and rage and despair.
We both turned toward the sound and saw a figure stumbling through the front gates. Bloody, tired, barely standing.
But living.
"Father?" I whispered.
Alpha Garrett Blackwood fell to his knees in the middle of the courtyard, his clothes torn and his face streaked with tears.
"Kira!" he cried out, his voice breaking. "They took her! They took Maya!"
My sister's name hit me like a physical blow.
"What are you talking about?" I ran toward him, ignoring Lydia's yells behind me. "Maya's dead. She drowned ten years ago."
"No." My father looked up at me with eyes full of sorrow and hope and terrible truth. "She didn't die. I lied. I've been lying for ten years because I thought it would keep her safe."
"Safe from what?"
"From the people who want to use her power. The people who just attacked our pack and took her away." He grabbed my hands with shaking fingers. "Maya isn't dead, Kira. She's alive, and she's in terrible danger."
"And she's been alive this whole time?"
"Yes. Hidden away where no one could find her. Until now."
The mate mark on my chest suddenly blazed with heat. Not the warm feeling I got around Damon, but something else. Something that felt like warning and fear and bond all mixed together.
"Father," I whispered, "what aren't you telling me?"
He looked at me with the most heartbroken face I'd ever seen.
"Maya isn't just living, daughter. She's your twin sister. And she has the same mate mark you do."