Raven's POV
Caspian's hand slams against the wall beside my head, trapping me. His eyes blaze silver—pure Alpha fury barely controlled.
"You're not going anywhere with him," he growls.
"You don't own me," I shoot back, even though I'm terrified.
"The hell I don't! You're my mate—"
"You REJECTED me!" The words explode from me. "You stood in front of everyone and said I wasn't good enough! You chose Isla! You destroyed me! So don't you dare act like you have any claim on me now!"
His hand drops. The fury in his eyes shifts to something worse—pain. Raw, agonizing pain.
"Raven—"
"Get out." My voice shakes. "Get out of my room."
"He's dangerous," Caspian says desperately. "Kieran Nightshade leads the rogue coalition. He's killed Alphas. Destroyed packs. He's not some hero coming to save you—he's a predator who wants to use you just like everyone else."
"At least he's offering me a choice."
"A choice to die!" He grabs my shoulders. "Do you really think he wants to help you? He wants your power, Raven. Wants to use a Primordial Omega to destroy pack hierarchy. You'll just be trading one cage for another."
I want to argue. Want to believe Kieran is different.
But deep down, I know Caspian might be right.
"Then what do you suggest?" I ask bitterly. "I stay here as your prisoner? Spend the rest of my life stabilizing your power while pretending I'm not dying inside?"
"No." His voice breaks. "I want you to give me a chance to make this right. To prove I'm not the coward who rejected you. To show you that I—"
A howl cuts through the night—close, urgent, warning.
Caspian's head snaps toward the window. "They've found him."
Shouts erupt outside. Running footsteps. The clash of wolves fighting.
Caspian releases me and rushes to the window. "Stay here. Don't move. Don't even think about leaving this room."
He's gone before I can respond, disappearing through the connecting door.
I run to my window. Below, torches light up the grounds. Wolves in human and animal form chase a dark figure through the trees—Kieran, running from a dozen pack warriors.
He's fast. Impossibly fast. But there are too many of them.
They corner him against the estate wall. I watch, my heart in my throat, as they circle closer.
Then Kieran does something that stops my breath.
He looks up. Directly at my window. Directly at me.
And he smiles.
Like this is all part of his plan.
The warriors attack. Kieran vanishes in a blur of movement. When the dust clears, three warriors are unconscious, and Kieran is gone.
Just... gone.
"Impossible," I whisper.
A knock on my door makes me jump. "Miss Thorne? Are you alright?"
Guards. Always guards now.
"I'm fine," I call back, my voice steadier than I feel.
I sink onto the bed, my mind racing. Kieran escaped easily. Too easily. Like he was testing them. Testing their defenses.
Which means he'll be back.
And tomorrow night, I'll have to make an impossible choice.
Morning comes with more guards, more rules, more ways to remind me I'm a prisoner.
"You'll need to move your belongings to the Alpha wing," a stern-faced female warrior informs me. "Alpha Magnus's orders."
"I barely have any belongings," I mutter.
"Then it won't take long."
They escort me to the omega quarters—my real home, the basement rooms where I actually belonged. The other omegas stare as I pass, escorted like a criminal.
Or worse—like I'm one of them now, the higher-ranked wolves.
"Look at her," someone whispers. "Living in luxury while we scrub floors."
"Sleeping next to the Alpha heir..."
"Traitor."
Each word is a stab. These were my people. The only ones who ever understood what it meant to be invisible.
Now they hate me too.
I gather my few possessions—three threadbare dresses, a hairbrush, a small carved wolf my mother left me before she died. Everything I own fits in one small bag.
"That's all?" The warrior sounds surprised.
"That's all," I confirm quietly.
Old Luna appears in the doorway as I'm leaving. The other omegas part for her respectfully.
"Child," she says softly. "Walk with me a moment."
The warriors start to protest, but Luna's sharp look silences them. "I'm an old woman. Let me say goodbye to my great-niece."
They reluctantly step back, giving us space.
Luna takes my hand, her grip surprisingly strong. "Listen carefully. The rogue who came for you—he's not lying about knowing what you are."
"How do you—"
"I'm old, not blind. I've seen Primordial Omegas before, child. Back when I was young, before Magnus's father killed the last of your kind."
My blood runs cold. "Killed?"
"They were too powerful. Too dangerous to the old ways. So they were hunted. Destroyed." Her eyes bore into mine. "You're the first I've seen in fifty years. And if Magnus discovers your full potential, he'll either bind you completely—or kill you like the others."
"Then what do I do?"
"Survive. Learn. And trust no one—not the pack, not the rogue, not even the mate who rejected you." She squeezes my hand. "You have power inside you that could reshape everything. But power without wisdom is just destruction."
"I don't want power. I just want to be free."
"Sometimes, child, the only way to be free is to become too dangerous to cage."
She releases my hand and shuffles away, leaving me with more questions than answers.
My new room is everything my old one wasn't—spacious, bright, filled with expensive furniture. A massive bed. Soft rugs. Windows overlooking the forest.
A gilded cage, just like Caspian said.
The warriors deposit my pathetic bag on the bed and leave, locking the door behind them.
I'm alone in luxury. Alone in prison.
I sink onto the bed—so soft compared to my old thin mattress—and finally let myself feel everything I've been holding back.
The fear. The anger. The crushing weight of having no control over my own life.
Tears come. I try to stop them, but they won't be stopped. I cry for everything I've lost. For the girl I was who at least had hope, even without freedom.
I don't know how long I cry. Long enough that my eyes burn and my throat aches.
Then I hear it—a soft click from the connecting door.
I freeze, wiping my tears quickly.
The door opens. Caspian stands there, and he looks wrecked. Like he hasn't slept. Like he's been fighting his own battles.
"I heard you crying," he says quietly. "Through the wall."
"Go away."
"Raven—"
"I said GO AWAY!" I throw a pillow at him. It bounces harmlessly off his chest.
He doesn't leave. Instead, he steps into my room, hands raised like I'm a wild animal he's afraid to spook.
"I know you hate me," he says. "I know I don't deserve your forgiveness. But I need you to understand something."
"I don't want to understand anything from you."
"My sister died," he continues like I didn't speak. "When I was fifteen. Her name was Luna—" his voice cracks, "—like your great-aunt. She had a genetic blood condition. Weak from birth. And I watched her die slowly, painfully, because there was nothing anyone could do."
I don't want to feel sympathy. Don't want to care.
But I do.
"My father convinced me that weakness was dangerous. That I had to be strong, had to choose strength, or I'd lose everyone I loved. So when I felt the mate bond with you—an omega, someone the pack considered weak—I panicked." He takes a shaky breath. "I thought I was protecting you. Protecting the pack. Protecting myself from more pain."
"You were protecting yourself from embarrassment," I correct coldly.
"Yes." The admission shocks me. "You're right. I was a coward. I cared more about what people thought than about what was right. And I've regretted it every single day since."
We stare at each other across the room.
"I don't know if I can ever forgive you," I whisper.
"I know." He moves toward the door. "But I'm going to spend the rest of my life trying to earn it anyway."
He starts to leave, then stops.
"Kieran will come for you tomorrow night," he says without turning. "And I can't stop you from choosing him. But please, Raven—please think carefully before you trust him. Not all cages look like cages at first."
Then he's gone, closing the door softly behind him.
I'm alone again.
I lie back on the expensive bed and stare at the ceiling, my mind spinning.
Tomorrow night. A choice. Freedom or a different kind of trap.
How do I know which is which?
I'm still wrestling with that question when I hear scratching at my window.
A bird. A black raven—like my name—perches on the windowsill with something tied to its leg.
I open the window carefully. The bird hops inside, lets me remove the small scroll, and flies away.
I unroll the paper with shaking hands.
The message is written in sharp, elegant handwriting:
Tomorrow night. Midnight. Be at the east window. Wear something you can run in. Bring nothing that ties you to this place.
Choose freedom, little Primordial. Choose yourself.
- K
I'm still holding the note when the connecting door bursts open.
Caspian stands there, his face twisted with panic.
"The council just got word," he gasps. "Kieran isn't working alone. He's made a deal with someone inside the pack. Someone who's been giving him information, helping him plan."
"Who?"
"We don't know. But whoever it is—" his silver eyes meet mine, terrified, "—they've been in your room. Multiple times. And the council thinks..."
He can't finish.
But I understand.
They think I'm the traitor.