Chapter 4
The car drove through the night. I drifted in and out of a strange, feverish half-sleep, that warmth in my chest growing stronger with every mile between me and Kael's territory.
By dawn, we crossed into unclaimed borderlands—neutral ground between packs. The driver pulled up to a small roadside inn, and I stumbled inside on shaking legs.
Something was wrong with me. My skin burned. My bones ached like they were trying to rearrange themselves.
I barely made it to a room before collapsing on the bed, drenched in sweat.
*What's happening to me?*
The heat exploded outward from my spine. I screamed into the pillow—a sound I didn't recognize as my own. It was guttural. Animal.
And then—
*Nora.*
A voice. Inside my head. Female. Ancient. Powerful.
*I've been waiting so long for you to break free of him.*
"Who—" I gasped aloud, clawing at the sheets.
*I am yours. I have always been yours. But his mark—his claim—it suppressed me. Caged me.*
My wolf. My wolf was *speaking* to me.
But that was impossible. I'd never shifted. Every test, every healer, every specialist had confirmed—I was wolfless. Defective. Empty.
*They lied,* the voice growled. *Or they were blind. I am no ordinary wolf, Nora. And neither are you.*
The burning reached a crescendo. My spine arched off the bed. I felt my bones crack, reform, crack again—
And then silence. Perfect, crystalline silence.
I opened my eyes.
The room looked different. Sharper. Every dust mote hung in the air like a suspended star. I could hear the innkeeper breathing two floors below. I could smell rain approaching from thirty miles east.
I raised my hand. My nails had elongated—not claws, but close. And my skin—it shimmered. A faint, iridescent gold, like sunlight trapped beneath the surface.
*Look at yourself,* my wolf whispered. *Look at what you are.*
I staggered to the bathroom mirror.
Gold eyes stared back at me. Not amber. Not yellow. *Gold*—pure, molten, ancient gold.
I'd seen this color described only once. In my mother's journal, hidden in the pages she told me never to read.
*Lycan bloodline. The last of the First Wolves.*
A pounding on the door shattered the moment.
"Open up!" A male voice—authoritative, unfamiliar. "I can sense what you are. You're radiating power across three territories."
I grabbed a towel, wrapped it around my trembling body, and cracked the door.
A man stood in the hallway. Tall—taller than Kael. Dark hair swept back from a severe, aristocratic face. Eyes the color of winter storms. He wore a black coat that probably cost more than everything I'd ever owned combined.
Behind him stood four wolves in formation—guards. Elite ones, by the look of them.
The man's nostrils flared. His eyes widened a fraction—the only break in his controlled expression.
"Impossible," he murmured. Then louder: "You're a Lycan. A *pure-blood* Lycan." His gaze swept over me with something that wasn't lust or hunger but *recognition.* "Who are you?"
"Nora," I said. It was all I could manage.
"Nora *who?*"
"Just Nora. I don't—I don't have a pack anymore."
Something shifted in his expression. The hardness softened—barely. He extended his hand.
"I'm Dominic. Alpha of the Blackridge Dominion. And if you are what I think you are, you're about to become the most sought-after wolf on this continent."
I didn't take his hand. "I don't want to be sought after. I just want to disappear."
His mouth curved—not quite a smile. "That's no longer an option. Your awakening just sent a signal to every Alpha within five hundred miles." He stepped back, gesturing to the hallway. "Come with me. I can protect you."
"Why would you protect a stranger?"
He looked at me then—*really* looked. And in his storm-gray eyes, I saw something I hadn't seen directed at me in years.
Respect.
"Because the last pure-blood Lycan died two hundred years ago. And because whoever finds you first will either worship you—or destroy you." He paused. "I'd rather it be the former."
Behind him, his guards shifted uneasily.
My wolf stirred inside me, her voice a low rumble.
*He's telling the truth. But be careful. Trust is what got us caged in the first place.*
I looked at Dominic's outstretched hand. Then at the open road behind him—empty, cold, unforgiving.
I had no pack. No home. No mate.
But I had something I'd never had before.
Power.
"Fine," I said. "But I'm not anyone's prize."
Dominic's almost-smile widened a fraction.
"We'll see."
---
By dawn, we crossed into unclaimed borderlands—neutral ground between packs. The driver pulled up to a small roadside inn, and I stumbled inside on shaking legs.
Something was wrong with me. My skin burned. My bones ached like they were trying to rearrange themselves.
I barely made it to a room before collapsing on the bed, drenched in sweat.
*What's happening to me?*
The heat exploded outward from my spine. I screamed into the pillow—a sound I didn't recognize as my own. It was guttural. Animal.
And then—
*Nora.*
A voice. Inside my head. Female. Ancient. Powerful.
*I've been waiting so long for you to break free of him.*
"Who—" I gasped aloud, clawing at the sheets.
*I am yours. I have always been yours. But his mark—his claim—it suppressed me. Caged me.*
My wolf. My wolf was *speaking* to me.
But that was impossible. I'd never shifted. Every test, every healer, every specialist had confirmed—I was wolfless. Defective. Empty.
*They lied,* the voice growled. *Or they were blind. I am no ordinary wolf, Nora. And neither are you.*
The burning reached a crescendo. My spine arched off the bed. I felt my bones crack, reform, crack again—
And then silence. Perfect, crystalline silence.
I opened my eyes.
The room looked different. Sharper. Every dust mote hung in the air like a suspended star. I could hear the innkeeper breathing two floors below. I could smell rain approaching from thirty miles east.
I raised my hand. My nails had elongated—not claws, but close. And my skin—it shimmered. A faint, iridescent gold, like sunlight trapped beneath the surface.
*Look at yourself,* my wolf whispered. *Look at what you are.*
I staggered to the bathroom mirror.
Gold eyes stared back at me. Not amber. Not yellow. *Gold*—pure, molten, ancient gold.
I'd seen this color described only once. In my mother's journal, hidden in the pages she told me never to read.
*Lycan bloodline. The last of the First Wolves.*
A pounding on the door shattered the moment.
"Open up!" A male voice—authoritative, unfamiliar. "I can sense what you are. You're radiating power across three territories."
I grabbed a towel, wrapped it around my trembling body, and cracked the door.
A man stood in the hallway. Tall—taller than Kael. Dark hair swept back from a severe, aristocratic face. Eyes the color of winter storms. He wore a black coat that probably cost more than everything I'd ever owned combined.
Behind him stood four wolves in formation—guards. Elite ones, by the look of them.
The man's nostrils flared. His eyes widened a fraction—the only break in his controlled expression.
"Impossible," he murmured. Then louder: "You're a Lycan. A *pure-blood* Lycan." His gaze swept over me with something that wasn't lust or hunger but *recognition.* "Who are you?"
"Nora," I said. It was all I could manage.
"Nora *who?*"
"Just Nora. I don't—I don't have a pack anymore."
Something shifted in his expression. The hardness softened—barely. He extended his hand.
"I'm Dominic. Alpha of the Blackridge Dominion. And if you are what I think you are, you're about to become the most sought-after wolf on this continent."
I didn't take his hand. "I don't want to be sought after. I just want to disappear."
His mouth curved—not quite a smile. "That's no longer an option. Your awakening just sent a signal to every Alpha within five hundred miles." He stepped back, gesturing to the hallway. "Come with me. I can protect you."
"Why would you protect a stranger?"
He looked at me then—*really* looked. And in his storm-gray eyes, I saw something I hadn't seen directed at me in years.
Respect.
"Because the last pure-blood Lycan died two hundred years ago. And because whoever finds you first will either worship you—or destroy you." He paused. "I'd rather it be the former."
Behind him, his guards shifted uneasily.
My wolf stirred inside me, her voice a low rumble.
*He's telling the truth. But be careful. Trust is what got us caged in the first place.*
I looked at Dominic's outstretched hand. Then at the open road behind him—empty, cold, unforgiving.
I had no pack. No home. No mate.
But I had something I'd never had before.
Power.
"Fine," I said. "But I'm not anyone's prize."
Dominic's almost-smile widened a fraction.
"We'll see."
---