She stopped dead in her tracks at the voice.
Yakim stood there, arms folded across his broad chest, his silver Alpha's insignia gleaming faintly in the torchlight. His golden-brown eyes, so like hers and yet so utterly different, bore into her with that same maddening calmness he always wore like armor.
"Where are you coming from?" he asked.
Seren tilted her head, brushing her damp curls back from her face. "Out."
"Out where?"
She exhaled sharply through her nose. "At the inn."
Yakim's jaw tightened. "You are out late. Again."
"I wasn't aware I had a curfew," she said smoothly, lifting an eyebrow. "Or are we children now, Yakim?"
"You are not a child," he said. "You're a high-born she-wolf. You represent this pack, me. I will not tolerate improper behavior—especially not from my sister."
Seren's lips twitched. She wanted to scream. She wanted to laugh. She wanted to rip that self-satisfied tone right out of his throat. But instead, she offered him a smile so saccharine it stung her own teeth.
"Of course, Alpha," she said sweetly. "I have no intention of disappointing you."
He studied her for a moment longer before giving a curt nod. "Then get some rest. We will have council tomorrow."
He turned and walked away, his footsteps disappearing into the corridor.
The moment he was gone, Seren's smile dropped like shattered glass.
She stormed into her quarters, slamming the door behind her. Her cloak hit the ground first, then her boots, flung viciously across the room. The lamp on the desk was next—crashed to the floor in a burst of oil and flame that quickly sputtered out. Her fists found the edge of a nearby table, and with one sharp shove, she sent it toppling over.
"How dare he!" she screamed, voice raw and shaking. "How dare he speak to me like that!"
Papers scattered. A chair cracked. A vase shattered against the stone wall.
She was still trembling, chest heaving, when the door opened behind her.
Layal stepped inside without knocking, her dark eyes sweeping over the chaos with casual ease. She was lean and graceful, dressed in a sleek robe of midnight blue, her black braid falling over one shoulder. Behind her, two nervous young maids hovered in the hallway, unsure whether to approach.
"Clean it up," Layal ordered them without a second glance.
The maids scampered in, quickly gathering the debris.
Layal crossed the room, stepping over broken glass, and reached for Seren. Her hands were soft but firm as she drew her into her inner chambers and there she pulled her into her.
Seren collapsed into her arms, all pretense slipping away.
"It should have been me," she whispered, voice broken. "I was the strongest. The smartest. I trained harder than anyone. And yet—yet—he was chosen. That dull-eyed, golden-boy fool—he wears the Alpha mark while I am expected to play the role of the obedient big sister!"
Layal pressed her lips to Seren's temple. "I know," she murmured. "I know, my love."
"I am older than him," Seren went on bitterly. "I am more cunning. More worthy. But the Elders… they said I was too ambitious. Too dangerous and it was not tradition." She laughed, the sound sharp and hollow. "And now I am expected to curtsy and smile while my brother lectures me like a stray pup caught stealing scraps?"
Layal led her toward the adjoining chamber, a private sitting room draped in silks and dim candlelight. Once the door was closed and the noise of the maids cleaning faded, she guided Seren gently to a chaise and helped her sit.
"I can't stand it," Seren hissed. "Living under his rule—under his constant judgment. Every step I take, every move I make, he watches like I'm some caged beast waiting to snap."
Layal knelt in front of her, resting her chin on Seren's knee. "You won't have to bear it much longer."
Seren looked down, eyes gleaming with anger and unshed tears. "They said they would catch her. That pathetic wolfless girl. I gave them her trail. Her scent. And still, they failed."
"You're talking about Arin?"
"Yes." The word was spat like venom. "That weakling who stole Roan's crown with her father's manipulation. She's nothing—nothing!—and yet she lives while I'm trapped here, forced to smile and bow to a boy who played warrior while I fought to become one."
Layal reached up, brushing Seren's cheek with the back of her fingers. "Arin will not remain free for long. You know how these things work. The game is long, but you're a patient player."
"She has power," Seren muttered. "I felt it. Even before she knew it herself. There's something in her blood. Something ancient. That child she carries… it could change everything."
"Then we will change it first."
Seren's eyes flickered. "What are you saying?"
Layal stood, her presence coiling like a shadow as she moved to pour wine into two silver goblets. "I'm saying the pieces are still moving. That Arin may have slipped past your hunters, but there are other ways. Other tools."
She handed Seren a goblet and sat beside her. "We still have the old bloodlines. We still have the hidden altars. And now…"
Layal's voice lowered to a whisper.
"…now we have him."
Seren's gaze snapped to her lover's face. "You mean—?"
"He is awake," Layal confirmed. "The seal cracked last night. He stirred."
A chill licked down Seren's spine. The memory of the ritual was still fresh—the way the earth trembled beneath her feet, the air thick with the scent of blood and ancient power.
"Adiram," she said softly.
Layal smiled. "The sorcerer Alpha. The one the Moon cursed and the earth swallowed. You brought him back."
Seren swallowed the last of her wine, warmth curling in her belly. "And he will be the key. The key to ending the reign of fools," Seren said darkly. "To burning down the old order. The packs who scorned me, the Elders who denied me, the brother who sits on a throne meant for me… all of them will kneel or perish."
"And Arin?"
Seren's smile was cruel now. "She'll be dealt with. Her blood may be rare, but it's still just blood. The child she carries could be used, manipulated. Or…" She trailed her fingers along the rim of her goblet. "…cut from her and offered to Adiram as a gift."
Layal raised her glass in a mock toast. "To freedom. To fire. To your rise."
Seren clinked her goblet against hers, eyes gleaming with purpose.
"To vengeance," she whispered.
Outside, the night wind howled through the trees. And somewhere deep beneath the earth, something stirred again—older than the packs, older than memory.
Something wicked. Something waiting.