Chapter 1
Syka
It never truly grew warm here. Summers were fleeting — fragile breaths between winters that came like merciless gods, freezing the land and testing the strength of every soul that called it home. Only the strong survived this cold.
And my people were strong.
The shifters I now called family had bled for one another, endured impossible loss, and risen from ruin stronger than before. It had been three months since my return from the Bagdarath Coven. The war still loomed like a storm on the horizon, but somehow… we had rebuilt. We had endured.
Most days, Alex and I trained until our bodies shook, trying to understand the magic coursing through our veins. It hadn’t taken long to confirm she carried the gift too — but if she was to become the weapon fate had carved her into, we still had a long road ahead.
Meanwhile, Sasha, Jace, and Luka rebuilt our armies — recruiting shifters and magical beings alike. Rumors said their father was doing the same. The thought filled me with a rage so sharp it burned my lungs. The idea of someone threatening to rip away everything I loved… it haunted my nights.
And on those nights, when darkness threatened to swallow me whole, my mate pulled me back from the brink.
Jace. Goddess, I loved that man.
He had relinquished his Alpha title a month ago. Though I knew a part of him missed the leadership — the quiet command that had once defined him — he never complained. He slipped seamlessly into his role as Sasha’s second beside Luka, steady and unshakable.
Sasha’s power had grown terrifying — overwhelming even to me, a witch with no shifter instincts urging me to bow. But when he stood beside Alex… they became something else entirely. Light and death woven together. The saviors of this pack. Perhaps of the world.
“It’s getting late,” Jace’s voice carried over the rocks where I sat cross‑legged, alone with my magic. “Are you planning on coming to bed anytime soon?”
I had secluded myself again, chasing the elusive control Selena had promised me I would find. Months of practice and still my magic slipped through my fingers like smoke — some nights burning through my veins until sleep was impossible, other nights hiding so deeply I feared it had vanished altogether.
I blinked, realizing how long I’d been sitting there. The full moon hung high, frost clinging to the air.
“Sorry,” I said, standing. “I lost track of time.”
Jace stepped closer, his hands settling on my knees as he studied me with quiet intensity. I took the opportunity to study him too — the freshly cut dark hair, the close‑cropped look that reminded me of when we first met, the obsidian eyes that held both chaos and calm. He was devastatingly beautiful, and the sight of him alone made heat coil low in my belly.
“Any progress?” he asked gently.
I shook my head with a sigh. “The harder I try, the farther away it feels.”
His expression softened. “You are stronger than you believe, Syka. I’ve seen it. Don’t give up on yourself.”
I answered with a soft kiss, grateful for his unwavering faith. “Thank you for being my patience,” I murmured. “Goddess knows I need more of that.”
His response was to pull me to my feet. “Come to bed, little witch.”
Warmth flooded me as he led me into our tent. A low fire crackled, casting golden light across the pelts, and a simple meal waited on the table. My chest tightened at the quiet care he always showed me.
“What did I do to deserve such a generous mate?” I asked softly.
He brushed my hair aside and kissed the curve of my shoulder. My eyes fluttered closed as I tilted into him.
“I’m not generous,” he murmured against my skin. “Not with you. I’m selfish.”
“You are generous,” I countered, turning toward him and slowly unbuttoning his shirt. “You always put me first.”
His hands found my hips, guiding me backward onto the bed. Fur pelts cushioned my legs as my palm slid over his abdomen, heat pooling low in my stomach.
“Wicked woman,” he breathed when my fingers dipped toward the waistband of his pants.
My smirk vanished the moment he pulled my sweater over my head and laid me bare beneath his gaze. His eyes darkened like a predator savoring its prey, and my pulse thundered as he settled between my legs.
“I missed you today,” I whispered, guiding his hand slowly up my body until his thumb brushed the underside of my breast.
“Even a day apart drives me mad,” he admitted, voice rough.
His lips lowered, tongue tracing the sensitive peak, and my entire body tightened like a drawn bow.
“Jace…” I begged.
“I want to take my time with you tonight,” he vowed.
And just like that, the world slowed. In moments like this — when he treated time like an endless gift meant only for us — I fell in love with him all over again. He didn’t just love me. He worshiped me.
My magic flickered beneath my skin, responding to him, and when I looked down I found his gaze locked on mine — dark, hungry, reverent.
He kissed me deeply, stealing my breath, my control, my everything.
“Marry me, Syka,” he whispered against my lips.
The words were so soft I almost thought I imagined them — until I saw the vulnerability flicker across his face.
My heart shattered and healed all at once. Did he truly believe I would ever say no?
“Yes,” I breathed, smiling as relief flooded his eyes.
“I’m already yours,” I added gently, brushing his cheek. “In every way that matters. Make me your wife if you wish — but know that you are my soul. My heart beats only for you.”
Emotion filled his eyes, raw and unguarded.
“I do not deserve a mate like you, Syka Scornshire,” he murmured. “My heart and soul are yours. Always.”
Then he kissed me again — sealing his vow between our lips as the fire crackled and the world beyond our tent faded into nothing but us.
