# **ALPHA KING CAUGHT HIS BETA’S DAUGHTER CRYING BEHIND A LOCKED DOOR—THEN HE SAW THE SCARS HER OWN FATHER LEFT BEHIND**

The triumph in the courtyard was short-lived.

Two nights after the trial, while Darien awaited transport to the Blackrock Penal Colony under heavy guard, betrayal struck from an unexpected flank.

General Vane, the commander of the western border fortress and a longtime secret conspirator in Darien’s schemes, executed a coordinated breakout. At the stroke of midnight, fifty heavily armed rogue shifters infiltrated the palace catacombs through an abandoned drainage tunnel, setting fire to the eastern stables to create a chaotic diversion.

By the time Kale reached the lower dungeons with his broadsword drawn, the iron cell doors had been torn from their hinges. Darien was gone, and three royal sentries lay dead in pools of cooling blood.

"Sire!" Captain Eric ran into the smoky corridor, coughing through his linen scarf. "They didn't just break Darien out. A secondary strike team hit the apothecary! They were looking for Lady Laria!"

Kale’s blood turned to ice. "Where is she?"

"She shifted to protect the wounded healers," Eric said out of breath. "She drove the strike team out into the courtyard, but Darien and Vane ambushed her with silver-tipped nets! They dragged her past the broken western gate into the Pine Barrens!"

A roar tore from Kale’s throat—a sound so terrifying that the surviving dungeon guards dropped to their knees in terror. The King’s body contorted in a burst of black shadow and crackling bone. In Darien's place stood a midnight-black wolf of terrifying proportions, his golden eyes burning like twin suns of vengeance.

Without waiting for his cavalry, the black wolf leaped up the stone steps, burst through the burning stables, and plunged into the pitch-black wilderness of the frozen northern pines.

The scent of her was distinct, cutting through the pine needles and snow—sweet wild berries, laced with the sharp, acidic tang of burnt silver. She was wounded.

Kale ran with everything his royal beast possessed. Snow flew beneath his massive black paws as he tore through the deep drifts, his lungs burning with icy air. Through the pack bond that was rapidly solidifying between their souls, he could feel her pain, her defiance, and her fading energy.

Five miles deep into the ancient forest, beneath the shadow of the weeping granite cliffs, Darien’s rogue unit had halted.

Laria was back in her human form, tied securely to the trunk of an ancient hemlock tree with silver-threaded ropes that hissed and burned against her skin. Blood trickled down her arms, but her head remained high, her silver eyes spitting defiance at the twelve armed men surrounding her.

Darien stood before her, wrapped in stolen fur armor, holding a heavy iron spear tipped with refined wolfsbane.

"You made me a laughingstock before the entire kingdom," Darien hissed, his face twisted in psychotic fury. "You humiliated me! But your little stunt proved my point to General Vane and the southern warlords. A Lunar Omega is a weapon of mass destruction. If I cannot control you, no one will have you!"

"You were always small, Darien," Laria spat, refusing to call him father. "A weak man hiding behind a strong title. You can burn my skin, but you will never make me bow to you again."

Darien raised the spear, aiming directly for her heart. "Die like your mother, you worthless brat!"

A shadow descended from the canopy above like an executioner’s axe.

A four-hundred-pound midnight-black wolf crashed down directly on General Vane, snapping the rogue commander’s spine in half with a single, sickening crunch.

Before the remaining mercenaries could draw their swords, the black wolf was a whirlwind of slaughter. Fangs ripped through flesh; massive paws crushed ribs. The forest erupted into screams and arterial spray. Kale fought with the unbridled savagery of an Alpha whose mate was in mortal peril.

Within thirty seconds, eight rogues lay dead in the red-stained snow. The survivors dropped their weapons and fled shrieking into the dark pines.

Darien stumbled backward, dropping his spear, his back hitting a wall of solid ice.

The giant black wolf stalked toward him, step by deliberate step. Blood dripped from Kale’s black muzzle. His golden eyes carried no mercy, no restraint, only the cold, absolute certainty of death.

"Sire! Mercy!" Darien shrieked, falling to his knees, throwing his hands up. "I was your mentor! I served your father! Pack law forbids an Alpha from slaying an unarmed Beta without formal council decree!"

Kale paused. His golden eyes flickered to Laria, tied to the tree, watching him through her pain.

The black wolf did not strike.

Instead, Kale shifted back into his human form. Naked to the waist, covered in enemy blood, his chest heaving, Kale picked up the discarded silver spear from the snow.

He walked over to Darien, looking down at the shivering wretch.

"You forfeited pack law the moment you laid hands on her," Kale said, his voice terrifyingly calm.

Kale did not strike him down. Instead, he swung the blunt wooden shaft with bone-crushing force against Darien’s kneecaps.

CRACK.

Darien screamed, curling into the fetal position.

"You will live," Kale whispered coldly, leaning over him. "You will live in the darkest pit of Blackrock Colony. You will live without a rank, without a name, and without a daughter. Every day of your miserable life, you will remember that she is the Queen, and you are nothing."

Kale turned away, leaving the broken traitor weeping in the snow. He rushed to the tree and slashed through the silver ropes with a single slice of his dagger.

Laria collapsed into his arms.

"I’m here," Kale breathed, pulling her freezing, bruised body against his chest, wrapping his heavy cloak around them both. "I’ve got you."