Chapter 23

Myla

“Get that cute little ass up the hill,” Bowen shouted.

“What do you think I’ve been trying to do for the past hour?” I snapped.

The second wave had been running up and down this damn hill all morning. Bowen called it endurance training, but I called it excessive.

“It looks like you’re taking a stroll. Put a little grease on those wheels.” Bowen blew his whistle, signaling the start of sprints.

All the females groaned.

“How are we supposed to have the energy for defense training?” Amber, a Beta, asked.

“I think that’s the point,” Amy said.

Bowen blew his whistle again. “If you can talk, you’re not running fast enough.”

Without a word, I mustered up the energy to run up the hill like hellhounds were nipping at my heels.

Bowen was usually playful and fun, but I’d never seen him so serious. When I was placed in the second wave with him as my trainer, I had an idea of what he would be like.

It was safe to say I was wrong.

He was stern, pushing us and calling out orders like a drill sergeant. On the second day of training, he made us do pushups for every mistake our partner made during counterattack practice.

We learned to pick our partners carefully after that.

By day five, we knew practicing was the only way to avoid the grueling punishment. Failure to execute meant more work.

I reached the top of the hill and fought the urge to double over. I focused on slowing my heart rate as I caught my breath.

“Great job, everyone,” Bowen said as if we weren’t heaving. “Partner up. Today, we’re going to work on disarming techniques. This includes claw evasion. Myla, you’re with me. Kema isn’t feeling well, so we have an odd number.”

Enforcers spread out, standing by each pair for more focused guidance.

I joined Bowen as he placed his hands behind his back. “Choose an attacker and defender,” he instructed the group. “Once you’ve decided, your instructors will work with you for ten minutes before switching roles. We’ll do this for three rounds.”

Bowen gave me his full attention as we faced off.

“Do you want me to defend?” I asked.

“No. Attack. It might help you get some of your frustration out,” he said knowingly.

I huffed out a breath. Fine, if he wanted to see frustration, I’d show him.

Propelling myself forward, I punched and kicked in rapid succession, missing my target every time. For such a muscular male, he moved with the grace of a feline. It pissed me off. My muscles shook from exertion as I swung harder to no avail.

“Control your anger.”

Swing .

“You’re getting sloppy.”

Kick . Swing .

He tapped my side. “You’re leaving yourself open. If that were a real attack, I could have cracked your ribs or pierced you with my claws.”

I tucked my elbows in.

“Much better. Stop using your hands. Get close, use your hips to direct the punch, then snap your fist like a whip.”

Bowen let me use his body as a punching bag as he fixed my form and directed my punches.

“Switch,” he called out, undisturbed by my strike to his stomach.

Goddess, the male was a machine.

He demonstrated two blocking techniques and made me repeat them until the movements were semi-fluid.

“Put your hands up in a defensive position,” he said. “I’m going to slow my attacks, and you’ll block them.”

My arms felt like slabs of brick, but I held them up.

“All right, sweet girl. Pay attention to my body and remember to always keep one arm in to block,” he said.

“Got it.”

He threw a few practice swings, but my movement was all wrong. I was like a doe learning to walk—awkward and gangly. Bowen pushed me to continue, forcing me to move until my clumsiness started to fade. I managed to block him only because of his slow pace, but I was still proud.

“Let’s go, baby,” he said. “Three more minutes, then we’re done.”

“I can’t. My arms are going to break off!”

“No, they won’t. You got this. And if you make it to the end, I’ll give you a full body massage.”

I laughed. “Am I getting a happy ending?”

“I’ll give you so many orgasms you’ll still feel my tongue between your thighs tomorrow.”

Heat crept into my cheeks, and I faltered, dropping my hand.

“You did that on purpose,” I said, my tone accusing.

Bowen’s laugh was deep and much too lively for someone who’d worked out for hours.

“Time,” he called.

My hands fell to my sides like sacks of sand.

The females in the second wave groaned and panted between gulps of water.

“All right, ladies. Same time tomorrow,” Bowen announced. “Get some food and sleep.”

Bowen scooped me into his arms and headed toward the path to our den.

I relaxed into his chest. “Goddess, this feels good.”

He flashed me a lusty smirk. “Just wait until we get home.”

***

The Alpha called me, Gentry, and Silas to his den one week after training started. Just thinking of all the reasons he could have requested our presence set my teeth on edge.

“I can feel your mind racing from over here,” Gentry said, bringing my hand to his mouth and kissing my fingertips. “Do you need to vent?”

“I don’t understand why he needs all of us there,” I said.

“Alpha Wynn wants all the Omegas to testify firsthand to Alpha Declan. Don’t worry, you’ll be safe with us,” Gentry reassured me.

I debated telling them why I was hesitant to be in the same room as the Silver Fang Alpha. His reputation was terrifying, and if the rumors were true, he had Goddess-blessed genes to accompany his insanity. There was no telling what kind of person he would be.

As if he could read my thoughts, Silas leaned in and asked, “Do you trust us?”

“Yes,” I said without hesitation.

“Then trust me when I say that Alpha Wynn will not let anything happen to you. Despite his reputation, Alpha Declan is here to draft an alliance. This isn’t the first time our packs have worked together.”

My brows rose. “It’s not?”

“Silver Fang came to our aid when we ousted our old Alpha. I won’t lie to you—some of the rumors are true. But not all,” he said as we approached the Alpha’s den.

I reflected on his words, understanding how even one action could skew one’s reputation.

After we knocked, Alaric ushered us into a meeting room where Brielle, Blythe, and Isolde sat with Alpha Wynn. Bishop and Valor stood behind the females.

Alpha Wynn’s dominance was a comforting shield. Strangely enough, his penetrating blue eyes made me feel safe rather than exposed.

“Don’t be nervous,” he said. “You’re going to tell Alpha Declan the same thing you told us about the Blood Moon pack.”

“Okay,” I murmured.

He looked at Gentry. “I would like you to walk the Alpha through the data you collected on the Council. Display the prototype of the weapons we discussed as well.”

“I’m ready,” Gentry said, patting the bag strapped to his side.

We took our places, and Blythe gave my arm a squeeze. “Feels surreal, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah. I knew our packs were creating an alliance, but I never expected to be part of it.”

“I’m still reeling over the fact that we’re going to see the elusive feral Alpha in the flesh,” Blythe whispered.

“Goddess, I hope that’s a rumor,” I replied.

“I don’t.” Blythe shrugged. “We could use a killing machine on our side.”

I shivered at the image her words conjured.

The door opened, ending our conversation as Alpha Wynn stood to his full height.

“Alpha Declan,” Alpha Wynn greeted in an almost pleasant tone. “Thank you for agreeing to meet. It’s a shame we couldn’t gather under more favorable circumstances.”

Alpha Declan appeared in the doorway, and the air shifted as he entered the room.

Blythe stiffened beside me.

The Alpha was nearly half a head taller than Alpha Wynn. Everything about him was sharp and precise, like a freshly forged blade.

His long pale hair—white apart from the thick streak of black in the front—was shorn at the sides and braided to his waist.

He dipped his chin toward Alpha Wynn, the movement wolfish. “Maybe in the future, we will.”

He sat across from us as four shifters positioned themselves behind him. One was a female.

“Behind me are Jed—my Beta—and three of my Enforcers: Bennett, Miles, and Scarlett.”

“Welcome,” Alpha Wynn said. “Allow me to introduce my Gamma, Alaric, and two of my Enforcers, Valor and Silas.” He pointed to his pack members as he introduced us. “This is my security specialist, Gentry, and four of our Omegas. Isolde is mine and Alaric’s mate, Brielle is Valor’s, and Myla is Silas’s and Gentry’s. Blythe is Brielle’s sister.”

Alpha Declan’s gaze lingered on Blythe before he focused on Alpha Wynn. Jed’s, however, stayed on Blythe as if he were trying to figure out a puzzle.

“I suppose congratulations are in order,” Alpha Declan said.

“Thank you,” Alpha Wynn replied.

Alpha Wynn then described everything that had occurred in the last few weeks, including my escape, the threat Blood Moon posed, and the Council’s attack using dark witches. When he finished, he had Gentry show the security footage inside the Council’s facilities.

Finally, each Omega recounted their experience with the Council and unsanctioned territories. When it was my turn, I left out as little as possible, wanting him to understand what we were up against.

Alpha Declan’s face remained blank as he listened. He sat like a hierophant, waiting to cast judgment upon the accused.

“Asking for an alliance against the Council is quite a request, but one can see the benefit—not only for our packs but for all shifters. There is no doubt in my mind that their partnership with the dark witches is more dangerous than we know.” Alpha Declan’s gray eyes flicked to Blythe so briefly I thought I imagined it. “But a war against an unsanctioned pack with unregulated numbers is something else entirely. You’re asking me to put my pack—my family—at risk. There will be losses on both sides. So, the question is, what do we gain from this?”

“I’m aware that my request is immense. However, once our alliance is set, I vow fealty of equal measure,” Alpha Wynn replied.

“While your fealty is valuable, I’m requesting a show of good faith.” Alpha Declan leaned forward. “An assurance for the future union between our packs.”

Alpha Wynn’s posture remained relaxed, but his eyes hardened. “What do you propose?”

“I’m requesting one of your Omegas.” His words were even—almost clinical. “She will join the Silver Fang pack.”

Jed stiffened.

Though he hadn’t mentioned her specifically, there was only one unmated Omega: Blythe.

Brielle’s hand shot toward her sister’s, and Valor stepped closer.

Waves of dominance rolled off Alpha Wynn. “I will not trade our Omegas like livestock. Doing so would make us no better than the Council.”

“I wasn’t suggesting it. I’m speaking of the mutual assurance of growth for both packs. I’m sure you have heard that Silver Fang has refused to participate in the Hunt for the last few years. A unit came back with an Omega who was so terrified she tried to run away three times. After settling her down long enough to understand what was happening, we discovered the Omegas were participating against their will. Since then, we’ve withdrawn from the Hunt. I am many things, but I’m not a slaver or rapist.”

He leveled his iron stare on Blythe. “If you choose to come, I will provide soldiers for your sister’s pack. If not, we will move forward with the original agreement to stand against the Council and nothing more.” He shifted his focus back to Alpha Wynn. “I await your decision.”

Blythe stared at Alpha Declan while Brielle whispered frantically in her ear. Her expression was neutral, but I saw a spark of interest beneath her mask of indifference.

“The choice is yours, Blythe.” Alpha Wynn spoke with such finality I knew he would stand by whatever she chose—even if it meant facing Blood Moon alone.

“If I say yes, what are your plans for me?” Blythe asked Alpha Declan.

Alpha Declan’s eyes warmed a fraction. “You are my mate. Whether or not you choose to bond with me, I want the comfort of knowing you’re close.”

Goddess, what had we gotten ourselves into?

Brielle gasped. “We’re going to need some time to think about this.”

Alpha Wynn turned to Alpha Declan. “We’ll review your offer and get back to you within the next three days.”

The Alphas exchanged farewells, and the Silver Fang pack left without another word.

The moment they were gone, Brielle grasped her sister by the shoulders. “You can’t seriously be considering this, right?”

“I am. There are worse offers for smaller rewards.” Blythe sighed. “Did you really think he wouldn’t figure out that you guys have two extra Omegas outside the typical Hunt schedule?”

“So you’re just going to throw yourself into the fire like a sacrificial lamb?” Brielle snapped.

“No, I’m going to do what needs to be done to ensure we don’t get completely eviscerated in this attack,” Blythe retorted just as harshly.

“We can find another way—”

“Not in time,” Blythe interrupted. “I don’t know if you’ve looked around recently, but we have limited resources. The females have barely begun training. Twenty percent of the pack are elders, and you and Isolde are pregnant. This is the smartest choice—no, the only choice—if we want to come out of this alive.”

“She’s right,” Silas said. “If it were any other pack, we wouldn’t worry about the altercation. But the sheer size of this unsanctioned pack is our biggest obstacle. No matter how prepared we are, the losses will be great.”

Brielle’s eyes widened, shining with unshed tears. “But I just found you,” she whispered.

Valor put his hands on her shoulders, comforting his mate.

“This doesn’t mean you’ll lose me,” Blythe said quietly.

“How can we be sure? What if he doesn’t let you leave?” Brielle sucked in a shaky breath. “What if he doesn’t let you visit me or your niece?”

“We’ll put it in the agreement.” Blythe turned to Alpha Wynn for confirmation.

He nodded. “We’ll make family visits part of the terms.”

Blythe stood tall, her fingers turning white from Brielle’s tight grip. “Good. Then let’s draw up the terms and let Alpha Declan know he has an Omega.”

I looked around the room, noticing the males’ tense expressions, and taking in Brielle’s tear-stained cheeks. I was humbled by Blythe’s willingness to sacrifice herself.

No one would be going through any of this pain if it weren’t for me.

I couldn’t let her do this—I couldn’t let any of them do this.

“Wait,” I shouted.

All eyes turned to me.