Chapter 1
Present day…
Varek Dain
The air always smelled like blood and steel here.
The Outer Guard base wasn’t like the city strongholds. It didn’t have the marble floors or polished walls the Council liked to hide behind in Denver.
Out here, on the far edge of the city, the bones of the old world still showed.
Cracked concrete threw up plumes of dust beneath my boots, fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, and the corridors were patched with steel plates salvaged from the ruins.
The Council sent their scraps to the Outer Guard—old generators, salvaged steel, half-working tech from before the Collapse.
We got the leftovers, but that was fine.
Out here, fancy didn’t matter.
Out here, only teeth and claws, speed and instinct kept you alive.
Perfect for me.
I walked the long hall with a trail of wolves behind me, the heavy cart wheels rattling over the uneven floor as we pushed the tarp-covered body of a Nyktos toward the research wing.
The stench of it bled through the wrapping, all rot and rancid sulfur, worse than anything I’d ever smelled before.
Even dead, it made the hair rise on the back of my neck.
A few of the younger guards gagged, one muttering a curse under his breath.
“Hold your damn breath,” I snapped, my voice echoing off the steel walls. “It’s dead. It won’t bite you now.”
They straightened up quick. Good. Fear kept them sharp, but weakness would get them killed out here. We walked a razor’s edge.
We reached the reinforced door, its keypad glowing red in the dark. I slapped my palm against the sensor. The locks clanked open, the door sliding back with a hiss to reveal the research lab. It was bright, sterile, and reeking of chemicals and antiseptic.
Two lab techs, both wolves that were thin and pale from too much time underground, stood waiting. They adjusted their masks, their eyes darting to the tarp-covered form as my men laid their gruesome delivery on a stainless-steel examination table.
“Commander Varek,” one said nervously. “Is this—?”
I ripped the tarp back before he finished. The Nyktos’s face glistened under the lights, its skin dark and stretched tight over bone, its mouth still open in a rictus of pointed teeth. Black blood clung to its chest where a set of claws had torn clean through.
Both techs recoiled.
“Do your job,” I growled. “Get it on ice before it rots any further. The Council wants results.”
They scrambled forward, fumbling with their instruments, and I turned away, already sick of the sight.
Behind me, my men waited.
Joren, my second in command, leaned casually against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. He was taller than me by a head, all lean muscle and a scar down one cheek he liked to tell rookies he’d gotten from a Resistance blade.
In truth, it had been a pissed-off bear.
He was loyal, though, and smart enough to keep his mouth shut when needed, so I liked him.
Beside him stood Rafe and Gareth, brothers who’d joined the Guard together. They were younger, brutal in a fight, but reckless. I was still hammering discipline into their thick skulls, and I knew it would be a while yet until they learned anything useful.
Then there was Brenna. Small, muscular, incredibly intelligent, and with a knife she was terrifyingly skilled with always within reach.
She was the only female in my unit, and meaner than the lot of them combined.
She’d cut a man’s throat just to make a point, but she followed orders like they were gospel.
They were all killers. Wolves forged for war. My soldiers.
They trusted me.
If only they knew.
I was taking my time, but eventually I was going to burn the wolves from the inside out.
And I’d start with the ones who killed my Elena.
It had taken years, but I’d followed the trail like an alluring scent.
I noticed small things at first, the kind of loose threads that most men might ignore: a patrol rotation that didn’t add up, a ration manifest rerouted through the Council docks, a medic who’d been moved off-shift the week of the raid on my home.
I pulled at those threads until names surfaced, until I found signatures, all approved by Darius Voss.
The commanding leader of the Council.
Tall, pale, with silver at his temples and a smile that practiced civility while his men murdered people in the street, he’d risen through the Council not by brute force, but by papers signed in clean rooms and promises whispered to men who wanted power.
He’d built the human breeding program, sat in glassed boardrooms while others did the breaking, and convinced himself it was science and order, not cruelty.
He was going to die, and it would be by my hands.
I hadn’t loved anyone since her. I’d sworn away from it, vowing never to take a mate as long as I lived.
I’d lost too much to love again. There could never be anyone to replace Elena.
The wheels of the gurney squealed and broke my focus when the techs pushed it into place, muttering to each other like nervous carrion birds. The heavy door slammed shut behind them, sealing in the reek of rot.
I exhaled through my nose, rolling my shoulders. “Finally.”
“About damn time,” Joren muttered, pushing off the wall. He cracked his neck, eyeing the empty hallway like he’d just thrown a grenade down it. “That thing weighed a ton, Commander. My back’s going to be screaming for a week.”
Rafe snorted. “Falling apart already, old man? Maybe you’re softer than you look.”
“Say that again,” Joren shot back, narrowing his eyes.
Before I could cut in, Gareth grinned and jabbed his brother in the ribs. “Don’t bait him, idiot. You’ll lose some more of your teeth.”
“Yeah, wouldn’t be the first time,” Rafe muttered, rubbing at his jaw, and the others chuckled.
Brenna just shook her head, the corner of her mouth twitching like she might almost smile. “You all sound like pups. Be glad we’re rid of it. I was two minutes away from gutting myself just to escape the stench.”
I huffed a laugh. “You and me both. That thing stank worse than a sewer fire.”
Rafe gagged loudly, overdramatic, and waved his hand in front of his face. “I swear the stench is still on me. If I smell like that tomorrow, I’m shaving every inch of fur off of me when I shift.”
“Please do,” Brenna drawled. “Might improve your chances with the camp girls.”
The brothers groaned in unison.
I let them have their moment. They needed it. Out here on the outskirts, we didn’t get many victories.
I kept my face impassive, my tone casual. “You’ve all earned a night’s rest. Get food, get clean, and for the love of God, don’t bring that stink near the barracks. Dismissed.”
They gave quick nods and smirks before peeling off down the corridor, their voices fading into the hum of the base.
I stayed behind for a moment, staring down the corridor.
It stretched long and sterile, overhead lights buzzing faintly, flickering in and out with age.
With a sigh, I walked deeper into the base, my boots echoing against the cracked floor.
The air was colder the farther down I went, recycled through vents that rattled like old bones.
Wolves moved through the halls, some in armor, others stripped down to their undershirts, sweat streaking their bodies from drills.
They saluted or dipped their heads as I passed.
Their eyes always flicked away quickly, respect mixed with the kind of fear I encouraged.
A wolf who didn’t fear his commander wasn’t worth having in my unit.
I rounded a corner into the main thoroughfare, where I heard the sound of raised voices and the bark of orders ricocheting through the air. The mess hall opened to my left, the scent of roasted meat hitting me in the gut. Beyond it, the barracks lined up in squat rows of reinforced doors.
The base had once been a Cold War-era missile silo.
The tunnels had collapsed in places, but the central chamber still stood, repurposed into a fortress.
Rusted beams arched overhead like the ribs of some great beast, patched with steel plates and bracing.
The shadows never left the corners, no matter how many floodlights we mounted.
A pack of rookies marched by with their armor hanging loose, their boots still too lean. One sneezed as he passed me, and his squad mate elbowed him in the ribs, hissing under his breath. They were pups, barely blooded, but they’d either improve quickly or die. That was the law out here.
At the far end of the chamber, a group of officers stood near the tactical board. It was covered with maps sprawled across the surface with lines of red ink marking the human Resistance patrols, known smuggler trails, and outpost perimeters.
Waiting for me with that familiar smug bastard’s smirk was Captain Haldor.
“Commander Varek,” he said, dragging out the title like it tasted sour. “I heard you brought the Nyktos beast down yourself. Quite a trophy.”
I stopped in front of him, leveling my gaze. “Not much of a trophy when it’s rotting on a slab.”
He chuckled, the sound dry. “Still, the Council will be pleased. Imagine what they’ll do with that carcass. Turn it into a weapon, perhaps. Or find a way to engineer that kind of savagery. Maybe even both.”
His words crawled under my skin, but I kept my jaw clenched tight. “If the Council wants monsters, they can find them in their own ranks. We don’t need to make more.”
That earned me a long look. His nostrils flared, his wolf scent ripe with challenge. Around us, the other officers went quiet, ears pricked. Wolves didn’t need raised voices to sense when two alphas were bristling at each other.
“You sound worried, Commander,” Haldor said, his lips curling faintly. “Or maybe… tired?”