She cooked.She cleaned.She ignored Wilton’s snarling temper.But she never shifted.Never ran.
That wasn’t natural.
Eldin padded back to his cot, lying down with a soft grunt.His body ached with restlessness.But his thoughts stayed tangled onher.
Anikka.
Strong.Quiet.Unshakable.
If she gave him orders, he’d follow them.
Happily.
If she were a man, she’d be Alpha.No question.
But she wasn’t.
And that, more than anything, made Eldin wonder what kind of pack he’d actually joined.
He fell asleep with a smile on his lips—and the soft, ridiculous thought:Anikka would make a perfect Alpha.
Chapter 6
Jaceliftedhisheadand sniffed the air, filtering through the usual tapestry of scent—grass, moss, wet earth.And wolves.Hiswolves.Their energy vibrated around him, quiet and ready, waiting for his signal.
But tonight, he wasn’t just running for the joy of it.
He was hunting something unseen.Something that dared to threaten his people.
And not just his.Whatever was stirring out there—it was hitting every corner of their alliance.Viktor’s clan.Sorcia’s witches.His pack.Whatever it was, it moved like smoke through a locked room.Subtle.Dangerous.Unwelcome.
He sniffed again.No unfamiliar scents.No rogue wolves.Just the rustle of leaves and the faint pulse of adrenaline humming through the wolves behind him.
Still, he didn’t let his guard down.
“Let’s run,” he growled.
The reaction was immediate.Over a hundred shifters began to strip without hesitation, their movements practiced and unashamed.Nudity wasn’t taboo here.It was normal.Wolf forms didn’t care about denim or leather, and Jace didn’t need his pack worried about torn clothes when survival might come down to a few seconds so they stripped off their clothes instead of letting their shifting bodies tear them apart.
Jace watched them, sharp eyes sweeping the clearing as skin gave way to fur.He stood tall, scanning for danger as the others dropped into their four-legged forms.
His betas stayed in human form a little longer, watching with him, ensuring everyone’s safety.Watching his back while the rest of the pack shifted.Then, at his nod, they dropped their clothes and changed—bones cracking, muscles shifting with a sound that always felt primal and holy.
When Jace was sure everyone else had shifted safely, he let go.
The transformation ripped through him, powerful and clean.His wolf surged out of him, and in seconds, he was on all fours, muscles rolling beneath thick fur.For a moment, he stood there, looking at his pack members through the eyes of his wolf, feeling the dirt beneath his paws and the wind lightly rustling his fur.Again, he sniffed the air.
Still safe.
He prowled through the pack, checking each youngling, nudging snouts, testing eyes.He nipped at a distracted pup who responded with a playful growl, his tail wagging like a banner.Good.They were ready.
Jace padded back toward the front, watching his wolves vibrate with anticipation.
Then he howled—long, sharp, commanding.
And the pack exploded forward like a tidal wave of fur and teeth and heart.
They thundered across the grasslands, paws pounding in unison, scattering into the trees like a living storm.Shrubs whipped past, tree trunks blurred.The forest belonged to them tonight.