Prologue
They called her useless.
Her own family treated her like a slave.
In a world where strength defined worth, Clary Vertina was nothing but a stain on her pack’s name... until fate revealed a bond that would change everything.
But fate, it seemed, was merciless.
One evening, Xylo Crosswind, the legendary Alpha feared and respected by every wolf, was interrupted from mapping every possible point of enemy entry.
“Alpha, there has been movement of wolves from another pack at the border,” reported one of his men.
“Some of the swordsmen were executed,” he added, and Xylo’s jaw clenched at the news. The night had barely begun—too early for an attack—but caution left no room for delay.
“Which border?” Xylo asked, already reaching for his weapons.
“East, Alpha.”
The same pack that had attacked their castle before. Greedy wolves who mistook restraint for weakness. They believed they could challenge the pack he led.
They were wrong.
“Bring reinforcements. Send guards to the other borders as well,” Xylo ordered, strapping knives to his body. Seconds mattered; lives depended on it. He shifted into his wolf form and tore through the darkness toward the eastern border.
The scent of blood hit him first.
Bodies lay scattered—swordsmen lifeless on the ground. Rage surged through him. He had been late.
The remaining fight demanded his presence. Enemies hid behind guns, cowardly, thinking distance and bullets would save them. But knives required no delay. Close combat was the Alpha’s advantage.
One by one, the intruders fell. Reinforcements arrived, blades flashing in the moonlight. Some fought barehanded, strength alone enough to annihilate. Warriors bred to protect, trained to bleed for their pack.
By the time the moon climbed higher, the attack had ceased. The enemy had not ventured more than a few steps inside the border.
“Stay alert. Prepare for another wave,” Xylo ordered coldly. His eyes lingered on one swordsman in particular... strong, silent. He had seen him near Clary once.
A pang of longing hit him. He missed her. He wanted to return to her arms, tell her about the battle, watch her eyes light up. He wanted to see her, hear her, feel her.
Damn it—he was hopelessly bound to her.
Then came the next report.
“Alpha… there was an attack at the north border.”
“Status?”
“The Beta handled it.” Relief flickered. His brother could manage anything thrown his way.
Xylo turned to leave, blood staining his clothes. He hated killing... but protecting his pack came first.
And then the words came that froze him.
“There’s a rumor… a Vertina was assassinated.”
The world stopped.
Xylo grabbed the man by the collar. “What are you saying?”
“She was attacked… found dead in the forest.”
Air left his lungs. It couldn’t be her.
It had to be her sister. Or her mother. Anyone but Clary.
He ran. Faster than he had ever moved. Hope clashed with terror as he reached the Vertina estate and burst inside.
Mr. Vertina knelt, cradling a body, his sobs filling the room.
“Where’s Clary?!” Xylo shouted, panic clawing at him.
The man did not answer.
Xylo’s knees hit the ground, and his mind refused to accept reality.
No. She was strong. Stronger than anyone had given her credit for. She was his mate. His future.
He had plans. He was going to protect her. He was going to tell her he loved her, however
He had never gotten the chance.
“She’s gone,” Mr. Vertina sobbed.
“Clary is gone.”
