CAIUS'S POV
The power hits me like a physical blow.
I'm walking the eastern border of my territory, checking for rogues like I do every night, when the air itself seems to crack. A wave of energy rolls across the forest—red and burning and impossibly strong.
My wolf surges forward, alert and ready to fight.
But this isn't an attack. It's something else. Something I haven't felt in centuries.
Ancient magic.
"Alpha?" My beta, Derek, speaks through the mind-link. "Did you feel that?"
"Everyone stay at the pack house," I command. "I'll handle this."
I don't wait for his response. I'm already running, my wolf pushing me faster than I've moved in years. The power is coming from Silvercrest lands—Marcus's territory. That arrogant fool who thinks being cruel makes him strong.
Whatever caused this surge of magic, it's big. Dangerous. And it's coming from his pack.
I sprint through the trees, following the pull of that incredible power. It calls to something deep inside me, something that's been sleeping for far too long.
The scent hits me first.
Jasmine and wild roses. Sweet and soft, but with an edge of smoke underneath. I know that scent. I've remembered it for seven long years, even though I only met her once.
Mira.
My wolf goes absolutely wild. He claws at my mind, demanding I shift, demanding I run faster, demanding I find her.
I burst through the trees into a small clearing and stop dead.
She's there.
Collapsed in the snow, her body curled in on itself like she's trying to protect something. Her clothes are torn and bloody. But that's not what makes my heart stop.
Her hair.
Seven years ago, it was pure black—beautiful and silky, falling down her back like a midnight waterfall. Now, silver streaks run through it, glowing faintly in the moonlight. They're not gray like an old person's hair. They're metallic. Supernatural. Powerful.
I approach slowly, carefully, even though every instinct screams at me to rush to her side.
"Mira?" My voice comes out rougher than I intend.
She doesn't move. Doesn't respond.
I kneel beside her in the snow, and that's when I see the marks on her arms. Ancient symbols, still glowing red beneath her skin, pulsing with each shallow breath she takes. I've seen markings like these before, but only in the oldest texts. The forbidden ones.
Phoenix marks.
"Impossible," I whisper.
Phoenixes are myths. Legends. Stories told to young wolves about the most powerful shifters who ever lived—creatures who could never truly die, who burned with the fire of the sun itself. They disappeared thousands of years ago.
Except one is lying unconscious in the snow right in front of me.
I reach out, hesitating just before I touch her. The last time I saw Mira was at a boring pack meeting Marcus dragged her to. She was quiet then, almost invisible, with sad eyes that made my wolf whine. I wanted to talk to her, to ask if she was okay, but Marcus never left her side. He watched her like a prison guard, not a mate.
I hated him instantly.
Now, seven years later, here she is. Alone. Injured. And radiating more power than should be possible.
Gently, I brush the hair from her face. Her skin is ice cold.
"No, no, no." I scoop her into my arms carefully, cradling her against my chest. She's so light, too light. Like she hasn't eaten properly in weeks. "Stay with me, Mira. Don't you dare die."
Her head lolls against my shoulder, and I smell blood. Fresh blood. I look down and see it soaking through her shirt, spreading across her stomach.
My wolf snarls, furious and protective.
Marcus did this.
I don't know how I know, but I do. That bastard hurt her. Hurt his own mate. And now she's running, bleeding, dying in my territory.
"Derek," I call through the mind-link. "Get Dr. Rivera to my house immediately. And I mean immediately."
"Yes, Alpha. Is everything—"
"Now, Derek!"
I start running back toward my pack lands, moving as fast as I can without jostling her too much. Every few seconds, I check to make sure she's still breathing. Her heartbeat is faint, too faint, but it's there.
"Hold on," I whisper against her hair. "Just hold on a little longer."
The Phoenix marks on her arms flicker, like candles about to go out. Whatever power awakened in her tonight, it's fading fast. She used too much too quickly, and now her body is shutting down.
I've seen this before, centuries ago. When supernatural creatures push past their limits, their bodies go into a kind of hibernation to heal. But if they're too injured, too weak, they don't wake up.
They just... stop.
"Don't you dare," I growl at her, even though she can't hear me. "You survived seven years with that monster. You don't get to give up now."
My pack house comes into view—a large cabin built into the side of a mountain, warm and safe and mine. Derek is already there, pacing anxiously on the front porch. Dr. Rivera's car pulls up right behind me.
"Alpha, what—" Derek stops when he sees who I'm carrying. His eyes go wide. "Is that—"
"Not now." I brush past him into the house, heading straight for my bedroom. "Dr. Rivera, follow me."
The doctor, a calm woman in her fifties, doesn't ask questions. She just grabs her medical bag and hurries after me.
I lay Mira carefully on my bed. Blood stains my sheets instantly, bright red against white fabric.
Dr. Rivera immediately starts checking her vitals, her face growing more concerned with each passing second. "Alpha, she's lost a lot of blood. And these marks on her arms—what is she?"
"I don't know," I lie. Because I can't tell anyone the truth. Not yet. Not until I understand what's happening.
Dr. Rivera cuts away Mira's torn shirt, and we both freeze.
She's pregnant.
The baby's heartbeat is faint but steady—a tiny flutter of life inside her. And wrapped protectively around that small life is a cocoon of red light, pulsing gently.
The Phoenix power isn't fading.
It's protecting her child.
"Sweet moon goddess," Dr. Rivera breathes.
Mira's eyes suddenly snap open, glowing bright red. She grabs my wrist with surprising strength, her fingers burning hot against my skin.
"He's coming," she gasps. "Marcus is coming. He'll kill us all to get me back."
Then her eyes roll back, and she goes limp again.
But the Phoenix marks on her arms flare brighter than ever.
And somewhere in the distance, I hear wolves howling.
Marcus's wolves. Heading straight for my territory.