Fractured Leads
The Alpha's office was a fortress of dark wood and flickering screens, maps pinned to walls showing shrinking borders, reports stacked high on the desk.
Kai Blackstone sat hunched forward in his leather chair, forest-green eyes scanning the encrypted laptop feed from his network of spies—rogue informants, allied packs, even a few dark web crawlers.
The pack's resources had been poured into searches for years now, ever since Jennie vanished.
Silver-haired anomalies, Veiled whispers, anything that might lead to her.
Tonight, a new alert pinged: a rogue contact in Chicago forwarding hunter chatter intercepted from black channels.
High-priority bounty: silver-haired female, early 20s, possible Veiled bloodline. Last sighted Midwest, potentially urban hideout. Reward for capture alive.
Kai's heart slammed against his ribs. Silver-haired.
Veiled. Chicago—close enough to feel real after endless dead ends.
His wolf surged inside him, gold flecks flashing in his eyes.
Excitement burned hot and sudden—could this be her?
After two years of agony, of the fractured bond twisting like a knife every full moon, was she finally within reach?
He leaned closer, clicking through attached scraps: blurry social media posts of "weird cult graffiti" in Lincoln Park, hunter runes marking buildings. Then, a deeper dive from the informant:
Rumor ties to twins—infants, silver-haired, one with alpha scent. Female protective, powers confirmed as cloak/veil type.
Twins.
Kai froze, the excitement curdling into disbelief. Twins? Jennie had been gone two years—pregnant? No. The timeline... it hit him like a gut punch. That last night in the glade, their desperate goodbye, the bond flaring bright and primal. Could she have...?
No. He shoved back from the desk, shaking his head.
It couldn't be her. Jennie wouldn't hide children from him.
Wouldn't carry his pups alone in a human city crawling with hunters.
The thought was too painful, too impossible.
Discouragement crashed over him like a wave, drowning the spark of hope. Another false lead. Another ghost.
He sank back into his chair, broad shoulders slumping, jet-black hair falling over his forehead.
His heart ached—physically, a deep, throbbing void that had driven him near crazy these past two years.
Sleepless nights howling her name to empty forests.
Days spent snapping at his Betas, pushing the pack harder to compensate for the weakening curse.
Missing her was a madness: her ice-blue eyes that pierced his soul, the electric jolt of their bond before it fractured, the way she'd defied him, rejected him first, and still owned every beat of his heart.
And resentment simmered too—a bitter undercurrent toward his own pack. They'd demanded her exile, whispered of her curse, forced him to choose duty over destiny. Jennie Voss—his true Luna, the one who could have healed the bloodline, strengthened the borders. If they hadn't driven her away...
Kai closed his eyes, rubbing a hand over his stubbled jaw. The chair creaked under his weight. Two years, and the pain hadn't dulled. It had only sharpened, carving him hollow.
Lydia Harrington paced her lavish bedroom like a caged panther, the red lace lingerie still clinging to her body—a cruel joke now, silk that had been meant to seduce and instead mocked her failure.
Her emerald eyes blazed with barely contained fury, golden hair tousled from frustrated fingers raking through it.
The room smelled of jasmine and expensive perfume, but underneath it all was the sharp tang of her own humiliated rage.
She stopped abruptly at her vanity, slamming both palms down on the marble top hard enough to rattle perfume bottles. "Two years," she hissed to her reflection. "Two whole years of smiling, waiting, playing the perfect future Luna—and he still throws me out like trash because of her."
The door opened a crack, and two familiar faces slipped inside without knocking—Mia and Serena, her closest allies since girlhood, the same she-wolves who had once helped torment Jennie in the kitchens.
They were dressed for the New Year's festivities downstairs, elegant black dresses and glittering jewelry, but their expressions shifted to concern the moment they saw Lydia's state.
Mia closed the door softly. "We saw you leave the Alpha's wing. What happened?"
Lydia spun, eyes flashing. "The same thing that always happens. I offer myself—literally on a platter in this ridiculous lingerie—and he pins me to the wall like I'm some threat. Not to claim me, oh no—to threaten me. All because I dared call that scentless freak what she is."
Serena winced, crossing to the chaise and sinking down. "He really said her name again?"
"Jennie Voss," Lydia spat, the name tasting like poison. "As if she's some sacred goddess. 'Jennie is my true mate. You are nothing.' I swear, if I hear it one more time I'll scream."
Mia moved closer, voice cautious. "Lyds... the pack's talking more openly now. Another miscarriage tonight—Lena's pup. People are scared. They're saying the curse won't lift until the Alpha completes a bond. Any bond."
Lydia laughed, bitter and sharp. "Exactly. And who's standing right here, ready, willing, with the strongest alliances left in this dying pack? Me. But no—he'd rather let us all rot than touch me."
Serena leaned forward, eyes narrowing. "So what are you going to do? You can't keep waiting for him to come to his senses. He's half-mad with missing her."
Lydia's smile turned slow and cold, sending a shiver through the room. "I'm done waiting."
She crossed to her walk-in closet, yanking open a drawer and pulling out a silk robe, wrapping it around herself like armor.
"There's a healer—old Mara in the eastern cottages.
Her daughter owes my father a life debt from the rogue raids ten years ago.
Mara brews things... special things. Potions that lower inhibitions, heighten instincts, cloud judgment just enough for an Alpha's wolf to take over. "
Mia's eyes widened. "You're talking about drugging him?"
"I'm talking about giving nature a nudge," Lydia corrected sharply.
"One night. One dose slipped into his drink—something fast-acting, untraceable.
His wolf wants a mate, needs a mate. It'll choose the nearest willing female.
Me. Once I'm carrying his pup, the elders will force the marking.
The pack will demand it to save the bloodline.
And Jennie Voss becomes nothing but a bad memory. "
Serena bit her lip. "But if he finds out—"
"He won't," Lydia cut in, voice steel. "Mara's potions leave no scent, no trace. He'll wake up thinking it was his idea—grief and instinct finally winning. He'll hate himself, but he'll accept it. For the pack."
Mia exchanged a glance with Serena, then nodded slowly. "It's risky, but... the pack is desperate. If you pull this off, you'll be Luna by spring. And no one will dare challenge a pregnant chosen mate."
Lydia's smile widened, triumphant and venomous. "Exactly. Jennie ran away like a coward. I'm still here, fighting for what's mine. The pack needs a Luna who stays."
She reached for her phone on the nightstand, scrolling to a discreet contact labeled only "M."
Serena watched her. "When?"
"Tomorrow night," Lydia said without hesitation. "New Year's Day celebration in the great hall. Everyone drinking, toasting better times. Easy to slip something into his glass. I'll make sure I'm the one beside him when the potion hits."
Mia stood, crossing to squeeze Lydia's shoulder. "We'll help. Keep the others distracted, make sure no one notices."
Lydia placed her hand over Mia's, eyes gleaming. "Good girls. When I'm Luna, you'll both have places at my side—higher than you've ever dreamed."
Serena rose too, a wicked grin spreading. "To the future Luna, then."
Lydia lifted her chin, golden hair catching the lamplight like a crown. "To the future."
She dialed the number.
The line clicked open. "Mara? It's Lydia Harrington. I need something special. Fast-acting, untraceable. For an Alpha who needs... persuasion."
Her voice was silk over steel, and in the silence that followed, her friends watched with matching predatory smiles.
Jennie Voss was a ghost.
Lydia Harrington intended to bury her for good.