(Leo’s POV)

    I stared at my phone after hanging up with my dad. My hands were shaking.

    He wanted me to get Aurora’s hair. To prove she was his daughter too.

    I blocked his number and threw the phone onto my new bed. The ser ball sat in the corner, a reminder of Alpha Matthew’s kindness.

    That night, I couldn’t sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I heard dad’s voice through our weak blood bond.

    “Don’t you want to be with Mom and Dad? Don’t you want our family to be reunited?”

    The questions echoed in my head like a nightmare. I tossed and turned, sweat soaking my sheets.

    In my dreams, dad stood in shadows, his eyes pleading. “Help me, son. Just one strand of hair.”

    I woke up gasping. My father had be the source of my nightmares.

    The forest was colder than Aria remembered.

    Each step away from the Bloodfang Pack’snds felt like a step deeper into exile. The night was heavy, the silence broken only by the crunch of leaves beneath her boots and the faint rustle of unseen predators in the trees.

    Her wolf was restless, torn between grief and survival. We are alone, the wolf whimpered.

    “I know,” Aria murmured, clutching the thin cloak tighter around her shoulders. The wind howled like a cruel reminder of what she had lost.

    By the third night, hunger gnawed at her belly. She had no pack, no protection. And wolves without packs were prey.

    The attack came suddenly—three rogues leaping from the shadows, snarling with bloodlust. Aria fought, her ws shing, but exhaustion slowed her. One rogue’s teeth sank into her arm, another mmed her to the ground.

    “This is how it ends?” she gasped, tasting blood.

    But before the final strike could fall, the forest itself seemed to shudder. The air grew thick with darkness. Shadows rippled across the ground like water, swallowing the rogues’ snarls in choking silence. Their screams were cut short as the ckness consumed them whole.

    Aria, trembling, pushed herself up on her elbows. And then she saw him.

    A man stood at the edge of the clearing, cloaked in midnight, his eyes glowing with a strange, otherworldly silver. The shadows curled at his feet like loyal beasts, obeying his silentmand.

    He looked at her—through her—with a gaze that froze her heart and ignited something deep within her at the same time.

    “You are far from home, abandoned one,” his voice was low, rich, and dangerous. “And yet… you are still alive. Curious.”

    Aria’s breath caught.

    “Who are you?” she whispered.

    The shadows recoiled at his feet, forming a crown-like shape above his head. His lips curved faintly into something between a smirk and a warning.

    “I am Kael,” he said, stepping closer.

    “The Shadow King.”

    The moon hung high, silver light spilling into the grand hall of the Bloodfang Pack. The night should have been sacred—a night of renewal, a night when the Luna stood by her Alpha as one.

    But instead, Aria stood alone.

    Alpha Damien’s eyes, once filled with warmth and fire for her, were cold as stone. His voice carried over the gathering pack, sharp and merciless.

    “Aria, daughter of no true lineage, unworthy of my side… I strip you of your title. You are no longer my Luna.”

    Gasps rippled through the crowd. Wolves bowed their heads, some in shame, others in silent relief. The bond Aria once cherished—the bond that tied her soul to Damien—burned like fire and then snapped with a force that brought her to her knees.

    Her wolf whimpered inside her. A hollow ache spread through her chest.

    “Why?” she whispered, her voice trembling.

    Damien’s gaze flicked briefly to a golden-haired she-wolf standing smugly at the edge of the hall. “Because I have found a mate more suited to lead at my side. You, Aria, were nothing but a mistake.”

    The words cut deeper than ws.

    The pack watched, silent and obedient to their Alpha, as he spoke the sentence that sealed her fate. “Leave before the moon sets. By dawn, you are no longer wee in this territory. If you remain, you will be hunted.”

    Aria rose, her heart breaking, but her pride forcing her chin high. She would not give him her tears. Not here, not now.

    She turned, the weight of betrayal crushing her—but somewhere, faint and distant, a strange whisper stirred inside her: This is not your end, child. This is your beginning.

    Each step away from the Bloodfang Pack’snds felt like a step deeper into exile. The night was heavy, the silence broken only by the crunch of leaves beneath her boots and the faint rustle of unseen predators in the trees.

    Her wolf was restless, torn between grief and survival. We are alone, the wolf whimpered.

    “I know,” Aria murmured, clutching the thin cloak tighter around her shoulders. The wind howled like a cruel reminder of what she had lost.

    By the third night, hunger gnawed at her belly. She had no pack, no protection. And wolves without packs were prey.

    The attack came suddenly—three rogues leaping from the shadows, snarling with bloodlust. Aria fought, her ws shing, but exhaustion slowed her. One rogue’s teeth sank into her arm, another mmed her to the ground.

    “This is how it ends?” she gasped, tasting blood.

    But before the final strike could fall, the forest itself seemed to shudder. The air grew thick with darkness. Shadows rippled across the ground like water, swallowing the rogues’ snarls in choking silence. Their screams were cut short as the ckness consumed them whole.

    Aria, trembling, pushed herself up on her elbows. And then she saw him.

    A man stood at the edge of the clearing, cloaked in midnight, his eyes glowing with a strange, otherworldly silver. The shadows curled at his feet like loyal beasts, obeying his silentmand.

    He looked at her—through her—with a gaze that froze her heart and ignited something deep within her at the same time.