Chapter 1
CHAPTER 1
RYDER
T wo Years Ago
The air smells wrong.
It’s too heavy, too sharp, like rot under the forest floor. My boots crunch against the gravel as I step off the truck, the weight of my duffel cutting into my shoulder. This is supposed to be home—the pack lands, the place I’ve bled for, fought for. But it doesn’t feel right.
The clearing outside the pack lodge is too quiet. No one comes out to greet me. The windows of the lodge glow faintly in the dusk, but instead of warmth, they cast an eerie light that sets my teeth on edge. My wolf stirs under my skin, uneasy.
“Welcome back, soldier,” a voice calls, cutting through the stillness.
I turn sharply to see him: Everett Rossiter, the current alpha of the Nightshade Pack. He leans against the porch railing, a cigarette dangling from his lips, his casual pose at odds with the dangerous gleam in his eyes. Everett’s always had that look about him—like he’s weighing the worth of everyone around him and finding them lacking.
“Everett,” I say, keeping my voice even. “Where is everyone?”
He shrugs, taking a long drag before flicking the cigarette into the dirt. “Busy,” he says, his tone dripping with indifference. “Things have changed since you left, Ryder.”
My jaw tightens. “I can see that.”
Everett steps down from the porch, his boots crunching against the gravel as he approaches me. The alpha scent rolls off him in waves—dominance, power, and something bitter underneath. “You’ve been gone a long time,” he says. “Out playing soldier while the rest of us kept things running here. Don’t expect a hero’s welcome.”
I drop my duffel to the ground, the weight of it kicking aside the pea-sized rocks. “I didn’t come back for a welcome,” I say, my voice low and steady. “I came back for the pack.”
Everett stops a few feet from me, his grin sharp and humorless. “The pack doesn’t need you. We’ve been doing just fine without your holier-than-thou bullshit.”
My wolf growls low in my chest, but I hold it back. “I’m sure they’ve been ‘doing fine.’” I let my gaze sweep past him, toward the lodge and the forest beyond. “The illegal logging operation must be keeping them busy.”
Everett’s grin falters, a flicker of something dangerous crossing his face. “Careful, Ryder,” he says, his voice dropping into a growl. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know enough.” My hands curl into fists at my sides. “I know you’ve been stripping old-growth trees from our land. Selling them overseas. I’ve seen the damage, Everett. You’re bleeding the territory dry.”
His growl deepens, and his wolf flashes in his eyes—bright, feral yellow. “I’m doing what needs to be done to keep this pack alive. You think your military training makes you better than me? You don’t have a clue what it takes to lead.”
“You’re killing us,” I snarl, stepping closer, the tension between us snapping like a live wire. “This pack doesn’t need a leader who sells out its future for a quick payday. It needs an alpha who puts the pack first.”
“And you think that’s you?” Everett snarls, stepping into my space.
I meet his gaze, my voice steady and cold. “I know it is.”
The challenge hangs in the air like a thunderclap. The pack laws are clear—an alpha who’s challenged must fight for the title. There’s no backing down now.
Everett’s grin is gone, replaced by a snarl that bares his teeth. “You just made the biggest and last mistake of your life.”
He shifts before the last word leaves his mouth, the air around him crackling with power. In seconds, his human form is gone, replaced by a massive grey wolf, his teeth gleaming and his eyes blazing with fury.
I let my own shift take me, the swirling maelstrom rising up around me, the storm of it tearing through my body in a flash of color and heat. When it’s done, I’m on all fours, my wolf towering over his, my fur dark as midnight. The pack will see this. They’ll feel it.
Everett charges first, his claws tearing into the ground as he barrels toward me. I meet him head-on, our bodies colliding with a bone-rattling force. Teeth sink into flesh. Claws rake against fur. It’s primal, savage, and raw, the kind of fight that strips away everything but instinct.
He’s fast, but I’m faster… and stronger.
I throw him off, sinking my teeth into his neck and snapping my head in the other direction, his blood sharp on my tongue. Everett hits the ground, quickly regains his feet and circles me, his growls rumbling like thunder, but I don’t give him a chance to recover. I lunge, slamming him to the ground, my claws digging into his shoulders. He twists beneath me, his teeth snapping inches from my throat.
I growl low, the sound raw even in my wolf form.
He throws me off with a desperate surge of strength, and I stand back, giving him the time and space to withdraw and concede defeat, but he doesn’t take it. Snarling, he charges; I’m on him again in seconds, my teeth sinking into the scruff of his neck. He yelps, thrashing, but I hold firm. His movements slow, his strength fading, the light beginning to fade from his eyes.
And then, with one final snap of the neck, it’s over.
Everett’s body goes limp beneath me, his eyes glazing over as the light leaves his eyes. I step back, my chest heaving, his blood staining my fur. Everything around us is silent, the weight of the moment settling like a shroud.
I shift back, the evening air cool and biting against my skin. Around me, the pack emerges from the shadows, their faces a mix of shock and solemn understanding.
“It’s done,” I say, my voice steady despite the adrenaline still surging through me. “The pack has a new alpha.”
I turn to my brother, Lucas, who’s watching me with wide eyes. “You’re my beta now,” I tell him. “We rebuild from here.”
He nods, but his gaze lingers on Everett’s body, a shadow of doubt crossing his face. “And if they don’t follow you?”
“They will,” I say, looking out at them, the pack, they and the territory are now mine to lead. “They have no choice.” I raise my voice. “Those who wish to leave may do so, but if you stay you will follow my lead. Anyone trying to undermine me or the work we need to do, will be banished or killed.”
The twilight gives way to night, and I turn back to the house, the weight of what’s to come pressing heavy on my shoulders. Leadership isn’t a prize—it’s a burden. And I’ll carry it, no matter what it takes.
Present Day
The forest is alive tonight.
The air hums with the sharp scent of pine, damp earth, and the faint trace of prey somewhere in the distance. My paws press into the mossy ground, silent and sure, the world around me a blur of shadows and moonlight. Out here, like this, there’s no weight of responsibility. No pack politics. No looming threats.
Just me. My wolf.
The trees open up into a clearing, and I push harder, my muscles surging with raw power. The wind rushes past, carrying the sounds of the night—an owl’s soft call, the distant rustle of branches. Running as a wolf is freedom in its purest form, a release I rarely allow myself.
I slow, my breathing steady, my senses tuned to every shift in the woods around me. This isn’t just a run; it’s a patrol. The border of Nightshade Pack territory lies just ahead, marked by the sharp scent of tree resin and the faint tang of pack magic. Beyond it lie territories that don’t belong to us. Those belonging to other packs, the Crimson Claw—who have only recently appeared within the Rainshadow Region—and humans who have become a threat to us all.
No one is sure where or how the Crimson Claw originated. The creatures are a kind of a large mutant wolf-shifter with a pronounced muscular hump on their shoulders and a shorter muzzle who seem to owe allegiance to no one and threaten all of the packs within our region.
I pause at the edge of the border, lifting my muzzle to the wind. Nothing unusual tonight. No signs of intruders. Just the faint, restless energy that’s been hanging over the forest for weeks. My wolf itches for a fight, a release for the simmering tension in my blood. But the woods remain quiet, the stillness broken only by the rhythmic thrum of my heartbeat.
The pull of duty tugs at me, dragging me back to the present. The pack doesn’t run itself. And even if the forest calls to me, there’s always something waiting.
I turn, bounding back toward the lodge, the ancient structure tucked deep within the pack lands. Its silhouette rises against the moonlight as I approach, the stone walls and sprawling wings more fortress than home.
The moment I step through the side entrance and shift back, the air shifts, too. The comforting wildness of the forest fades, replaced by the heavy scent of wood polish and stone. I grab a pair of sweatpants from the bench near the door, tugging them on as I pad barefoot down the hall.
Lucas is waiting for me in the main foyer, leaning against the edge of the staircase like he’s been there a while. His arms are crossed, his expression as neutral as he can make it, but I can see the stiffness in his shoulders.
“Don’t you ever sleep?” I ask, my voice dry as I run a hand through my hair.
“Not when the Elders are calling,” he replies, his tone sharp enough to make my wolf growl low in my chest.
I stop at the base of the stairs, narrowing my eyes. “What do they want now?”
Lucas shrugs, but the movement is too stiff to be casual. “The usual. Answers. Decisions. Someone to blame.”
My jaw tightens. “Of course they do.”
The Elders haven’t been quiet since I took over. They claim to advise, but in reality, they loom—watching, criticizing, waiting for the moment I slip. I’ve given them nothing to use against me, but they’re patient. And their patience grates on me.
“I’m not in the mood for another lecture about the birthrate crisis, the Crimson Claw, my need to take a mate or whatever else they’ve decided to harp on this time,” I mutter, heading toward the kitchen.
I know there are some who believe I indulge the Elders and their council, and perhaps I do, but I believe they have earned my respect. Who knows what Everett might have done had the Elders not been able to keep him in check. It’s always been a dance for power between alphas and elders—a delicate balance between longevity and leadership
Lucas falls into step beside me. “It’s not like we can avoid them, Ryder. They won’t just go away.”
“I noticed.”
He snorts, the sound tinged with exasperation. “You’re the alpha. They’re the Elders. You know the dance by now.”
I pull open the fridge, grabbing a water bottle. The cool plastic is grounding against my palm, but it doesn’t dull the irritation simmering beneath my skin. “The pack is stable,” I say, taking a long drink. “The Crimson Claw haven’t crossed the borders, and I’m exploring ways to deal with the birthrate issue, including asking Arthur Whitfield for his help. What more do they want?”
Lucas raises an eyebrow. “Control.”
He isn’t wrong. The word hangs between us, heavy and unspoken until now.
I tighten the cap on the bottle, setting it down on the counter with more force than necessary. “They won’t get it.”
Lucas watches me for a long moment, his usual easy demeanor giving way to something more serious. “They’re testing you, Ryder. They want to see how far they can push before you push back.”
“Then they’ll get their answer,” I say, my voice low and steady.
Lucas sighs, running a hand through his hair. “They’re waiting for you in the council chamber.”
“Of course they are.”
I push off the counter, the weight of the moment settling on my shoulders like a second skin. The run through the forest feels like a lifetime ago, the freedom of it already slipping away.
As I make my way outside and to the council chamber, the air grows heavier with each step. Carved into the side of the mountain, the council chamber has existed longer than the lodge. Its entrance is guarded by warriors loyal only to the council itself. I know what’s waiting for me behind those heavy oak doors—questions, demands, and the ever-present burden of knowing the pack’s future rests on me.
But it’s not just the Elders that burden me tonight. It’s the declining birthrate and the Crimson Claw. It’s the strange energy clouding my senses that I can’t quite name. And my mate, whoever she may be.
She feels close and even though we have never met, the memory of her scent lingers in my mind, sharp and untamed, stirring something in me I don’t want to name. She should matter. The scent isn’t wholly wolf—or wholly human—for that matter. And yet, I know I will recognize it should I ever encounter it in the real world. Her presence in Shadow Hollow will be a harbinger, a spark waiting to ignite something far beyond my control. And yet I dream of her—the dreams coming more frequently—and I wait.
I reach the council chamber, pausing outside the heavy oak doors. My wolf stirs, restless and impatient. The Elders think they know what’s best for the pack, but they’ve forgotten one thing—they aren’t alpha.
I am. I bow to no one—not even them.
I push open the doors, stepping inside. The room falls silent, their stares bearing down on me like a heavy cloud about to burst.
Let them test me. They’ll find it isn’t me who breaks.