Chapter 1

Chapter

One

HEL

M y husband, Jarl, is dead.

Those words echo through my head, but I feel nothing. No grief. No heartache. Just confusion and a bubbling anger about everything he put me through.

I shift in my seat on the jet as the lights flicker. Around me are other Omegas, all of us lost and being taken to freedom. I'm finally going to Savage Sector in Romania to meet up with my brother, Ragnar. I'm ready to put the past behind me, yet my husband's sudden death doesn't leave me.

One minute, Jarl and I had arrived in Bariloche Sector because he decided he'd had enough of my smart mouth. Enough of me. Evidently, being raised to stand up for yourself and speak your mind doesn't make for a submissive little Omega wife. So the asshole brought me to the sector to trade me in for a more tolerable Omega.

I clench my teeth because, as much as I hated him, the ache of rejection by such a monster still stings. Four years of hell, and he was ready to get rid of me. Then chaos erupted at Bariloche Sector—explosions, panicked voices, screams—and suddenly, these new Alphas appeared, telling me that Jarl was dead, and they were taking me away. Offering me a safe passage to wherever I wanted to go.

Too good to be true, right? Yet here we are on the plane, and I'm praying it's not some big hoax.

An explosive boom of thunder sends the entire plane into a shudder, and I grasp the seat in front of me. Someone whimpers nearby, and I quickly glance out my window just in time to witness lightning split the night sky, way too close for comfort.

Is it me? Did I do this?

I try to slow my breathing, counting backward from ten. Thing is, I'm probably a little broken. Okay, a lot broken. And I have an ability where my emotions can influence and sometimes straight up ignite storms.

When we took off, the sky was clear of clouds. Now look at it. It's hell out there.

Great job, Hel. Get angry while you're thousands of feet in the air, and you can plummet to your death.

The plane drops suddenly, and my heart launches into my throat. More gasps and cries echo through the cabin. Then things are calm again, yet my knees are bouncing wildly.

Another lightning strike illuminates the sky, brighter this time, and images of my past flash back to a stormy night in Denmark.

I'd baked for Jarl once, early on in our forced marriage. When I still thought I could make it work, like some stupid fairy tale. He came home in one of his moods, face thunderous. The cake hit the wall first, then me. I woke up hours later with a splitting headache and found him waiting for me with his belt in hand. It seems that rather than a fairy tale, I'd ended up marrying the devil.

My hands curl into fists when the plane bucks again.

At the front of the cabin, Enrique, one of the Alphas who rescued us, emerges from the cockpit, looking decidedly unhappy. Great. That's exactly what you want to see on one of your pilot's faces.

"I-I hate storms," the honey blonde across the aisle whispers, her knuckles white on the armrest.

I reach across, barely able to reach her in this tiny jet, placing my hand over hers to comfort her. "It's going to be all right, I'm sure."

"You don't sound too confident yourself."

I shrug, drawing my hand back, and stare at the rain hitting the window sideways.

Another massive crack of thunder drowns out my thoughts. The plane shakes so violently my teeth rattle. Enrique's voice carries from the front, something about a storm appearing out of nowhere.

That earlier guilt that it might be my fault twists in my stomach.

The plane dips sharply, and my insides try to relocate somewhere around my ears. I gasp aloud while others cry out.

"Everyone, secure your safety belts!" Enrique's voice cuts through the chaos.

I fumble with the buckle, finally getting it latched just as another violent tremor rocks the cabin. He's talking to one of the girls at the front of the plane while I'm being jostled about, trying to calm my breathing.

All right, storm, you've had your fun. You can leave now. Look how calm I am.

My muscles strain to a breaking point as the lie threatens to strangle me.

Enrique moves down the aisle, all powerful grace and barely contained urgency. Under different circumstances, I might appreciate how the emergency lights catch the sharp angles of his face and how incredibly handsome he is. Right now, the grim set of his jaw just sends ice through my veins.

"You take pod A," he tells the Omega in front of me, then turns those intense eyes my way. "You go to pod B. No time for detailed instructions; follow the automated guidance. The pods weren't affected by the strike."

Strike? Oh, double fuck.

"I'm so sorry," I blurt out as he passes. "I… I don't know what happened…"

He pauses, turning back. "What do you mean?"

I lower my head slightly, shame burning in my chest. "I have some issues. When I get stressed or scared, when my emotions go haywire, I… I influence the weather. I call storms. I've been thinking about my husband and…" I glance at the window where rain pounds, then back at him.

His face goes slack for a moment, processing. I brace for anger, for blame.

"Can you control it?" he asks in a low voice.

"N-no. I've been trying, but it's not working." It never works, in truth. My grip on the belt tightens until my fingers ache.

He straightens his posture, staring at me for a bit too long. "Then you're going in pod A," he says firmly. "We can't risk another bolt to the jet. You need to be far from the others to give them a chance." He leans over to the Omega in front of me, saying, "Change of plan, you're in pod B now."

The guilt hits me hard, but I can't argue. He's right. He waves for me to move now. Every eye is on me, and my cheeks burn with embarrassment. I want to apologize, but the words never come.

Minutes later, I'm strapped into a tiny pod. It's barely big enough for my seat, with a wraparound window. Screens flash with instructions I have to read three times before my panic-scrambled brain can process them.

"It's all automated. Follow the instructions and leave quickly," Enrique adds, then shuts the door, leaving me alone with my fear and the storm I'm certain I created.

I hit the first black button, and everything hums to life, lights zipping across the dashboard. The second one, as per the instructions, is just as easy to push, and suddenly, I'm dropping, my stomach left somewhere in the jet above. For a heart-stopping moment, I'm in the pod, hovering in the air, out of the plane, then I'm moving.

The jet continues onward, smoke trailing from one side.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, hoping the others make it to safety.

My pod's navigation system has us going in the opposite direction, and fast. The flashing lights on the flight map on the screen reveal a landmass nearby, but right now, all I see is darkness and lightning outside. My hands grip the curved walls that feel like they're closing in. Just when I think I can't take any more, thunder booms, and a streak of light illuminates the world. Down below, I spot a beach fringed with palm trees and mountains rising behind it.

The pod instantly starts descending, and I scream, seeing my own death at this rate. Something's wrong. Instead of the land, we're heading for the beach. Impact into the water comes with a shock, my whole body rocking in the seat, shaking all over. Water crashes against the windows as the pod bobs.

"Fuck this. I don't want to drown inside this thing." Frantically, I search for the emergency release. A dim blue light reveals the panel, and I slam my hand on the hatch. The door hisses open.

Low waves crash around me as I tumble out of the escape pod. Aching all over from the rough landing, my legs sink into the cold water, which reaches my waist. I drag myself to the shore, my heart still racing, and collapse onto my back, gasping for air as the rain pelts into me. For a moment, I just lie there, letting the cool water lap at my legs.

Am I dead?

Did I crash-land in some weird heaven?

The deafening crack of thunder answers that question. Nope, definitely still alive. Lucky me.

I push myself up, blinking rain out of my eyes. The dark beach stretches out before me, a strip of white sand between the water and a wall of palm trees swaying in the wind. Their fronds whip back and forth as though they're trying to flee the storm. Can't say I blame them.

"Well, Hel," I mumble to myself. "You wanted a tropical vacation. Wish granted."

My stomach twists with guilt. Did I cause the storm, the plane to lose control? My ability has always been more of a curse than a blessing, but I've never brought down a whole plane before.

The smell of salt and rain fills my nose, mingling with the earthy scent of wet sand and vegetation. Waves crash against the shore, drowned out only by the rumbles of thunder. It would be peaceful if it weren't for, you know, the whole stranded on a mysterious island thing.

The moon comes out from behind the storming clouds, giving me some light to help my wolf eyes see better.

Movement in the water nearby catches my attention. Two dark fins cut through the waves, really close to shore, chasing something. Great. Sharks. Because this situation wasn't exciting enough already.

"Sorry, boys," I call out to the sharks. "This little Omega isn't going swimming today."

I scramble to my feet, noticing my escape pod being dragged out to sea. There goes any link to the plane… Though I feel as if I've landed right in the fire. As I watch the pod sink, a thread of worry hits me. Did the other Omegas make it out? Or did they end up... I can't finish the thought.

I turn toward the island, taking in the explosion of trees before me. I can't see far beyond that from the night and storm.

Another crack of thunder shakes the ground, and the rain comes down even harder. It streams down my face, plastering my clothes to my skin.

"You want to drown me now? Bit late for that, don't you think?" I shout at the sky.

The storm, predictably, growls.

I take a deep breath, tasting the metallic tang of the rain.

"Okay, Hel. You survived four years of being married to that ass-wipe Alpha. This is just a little unplanned vacay. No big deal." Once I find a way off this place, I can finally track down my brother, Ragnar, in Savage Sector. He'd promised me that once he took that territory as Alpha, he'd find me. That hasn't happened, so I'm going to find him. Hopefully, he's still alive. So, first work out where exactly I am and how to leave this island.

I trudge toward the tree line, my boots squelching with every step. Sand cakes the sides, making them feel ten pounds heavier, but hey, at least I'm not barefoot.

As I enter the forest, the rain lessens slightly, the canopy providing some cover. I'm on a small, worn path. Animal trail? Or signs of other people? Not sure which option is more terrifying right now.

Dead palm leaves crunch under my shoes. Fallen coconuts, brown and decayed, litter the ground at my feet. Every now and then, I spot a crab scuttling away into the detritus faster than I can blink.

"Don't worry, little guys," I say. "I'm not here to steal your homes. Just... borrowing the neighborhood for a bit."

The path winds through the trees, gradually sloping upward. My thighs ache from the effort, reminding me that since getting married, I'd fallen out of shape and even put on a bit of weight because of my now-dead husband. A memory flashes through my mind.

" W here do you think you're going?" Jarl's words are cold and sharp, freezing me in place.

I turn slowly, my hand still on the doorknob. Jarl looms in the hallway, his six-foot-four frame blocking out the light. At forty-seven, he's more than two decades my senior, but age hasn't softened him. If anything, it's made him harder, meaner.

His thinning blond hair is slicked back, emphasizing the harsh angles of his face. Deep-set eyes, the color of mud, glare at me from beneath bushy brows. They've always been cruel, those eyes, never showing a hint of warmth or love.

"I... I was just going for a jog," I stammer, hating how small my voice sounds.

"A jog?" He laughs. "Since when do you jog?" He crosses the space between us in two long strides.

"I just wanted some fresh air to ? —"

Pain explodes across my scalp as he grabs a fistful of my hair. His bulky arm flexes as he drags me away from the door. I stumble and cry out, but he doesn't stop until we reach the spare room.

"If you can't respect my commands as your husband to never leave the house without me, you can rot in here until you're ready to apologize." He shoves me inside with a strength that sends me sprawling, the door slamming behind me.

I'm on my feet in an instant, fists pounding against the wood.

"You can't do this! I can't be locked up in the house. I just wanted to go out to get fresh air, you asshole!"

The door flies open. I retreat, fear digging into me as Jarl fills the doorway once more. His massive shoulders nearly touch both sides of the frame, a loose belt dangling from one meaty hand. The overhead light casts shadows across his face, making him look more monster than man.

"What?" he says menacingly, each word precise and terrifying. "What did you call me?"

I shake my head violently, forcing the memory away. My hands are shaking, and I realize I've stopped in front of a huge palm tree.

Breathe, Hel. Just breathe.

The asshole is dead, and you're not there anymore. You're here, on this island, where the only thing trying to kill you is nature itself.

I force my legs to move again, putting one foot in front of the other. Each step takes me further from that memory, from the prison Jarl made of a house that never felt like home. Each step is a victory, small but mine.

"All right, island," I say, injecting as much bravado into my voice as I can muster. "Show me what you've got. Can't be worse than what I've already survived."

As I continue up the slope, I silently pray I haven't just jinxed myself.

Finally, the trees thin out, and I'm on open ground, ascending directly to what I can now make out is a mountain. I pause, wiping rain from my eyes, and just... stare.

Even in the midst of the storm, the island is breathtaking and overwhelming. In the distance, a waterfall thunders down a cliff face, its spray fusing with the rain.

"Wow," I breathe. "If this is how I'm being punished for not feeling remorse for my husband's death, sign me up for more."

Yet the beauty doesn't quite quell the fear gnawing at my insides. I'm alone. Lost. As the adrenaline from the crash fades, the reality of my situation starts to sink in. I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly colder, hoping those men who took me from Bariloche Sector might return to save me.

"Get it together, Hel," I whisper. "Find shelter first. Freak out later."

Scanning the slopes, I look for a cave or overhang but I'm too far. Somewhere dry where I can catch my breath and figure out my next move. I refuse to die here, not after everything I've been through.

I think of my father, of the cold look in his eyes as he wed me to our enemy—Jarl from the Balor Pack.

"It's for the greater good of our Ulv Pack," Father had said.

Greater good. The words echo in my mind, bitter and mocking. What about my good? What about my life, my dreams, my future? But those things didn't matter. Not to him. Not when there was a war to be stopped.

I remember the day he told me, his gaze never quite meeting mine. "You'll marry Jarl of the Balor Pack. It will end the bloodshed."

At that moment, I realized I had never been a daughter to him—just a bargaining chip to be played when the stakes were high enough.

And Jarl? The monster I was sold to? He sent his younger brother, Nikos, to serve my family. "A fair exchange," they all said, nodding and smiling as if they hadn't just shattered my world into a million pieces.

Fair. There's nothing fair about being ripped from everything I've ever known and handed over to a man old enough to be my father, a man with cruelty in his eyes and violence in his touch.

Rage burns in my chest, hot and fierce. Fuck them. Fuck all of them. My father, who saw me as nothing more than a means to an end. Jarl, who took sadistic pleasure in breaking me down day after day. The elders of both packs, who nodded and smiled and called it peace while I paid the price in blood and tears.

I clench my fists, nails digging into my palms. The pain helps, gives me something to focus on besides the ugly memories.

Four years of fear and agony, of gritting my teeth and surviving day by day. I've come too far to let a little thing like a plane crash and a deserted island take me out. I'm finally free of him.

With that, I continue my trek, searching for any sign of shelter. The rain continues to pour, and thunder rumbles overhead.

The rain beats down relentlessly, soaking me to the bone. Shelter. I need shelter. The mountains loom ahead, promising the possibility of caves. It's my best bet—there's no way I'm building a palm leaf hut in this downpour.

A bird's harsh cry cuts through the storm, making me glance up.

That's when I see him.

A man is standing at the edge of the tree line, maybe two hundred yards away. He's holding a burning torch in one hand, revealing him easily. And yet he's staring right at me as if he can see in the darkness. I can make out his imposing figure—dark pants, no shirt, and muscles. So. Many. Muscles.

Oh, fuck. So, I'm not alone after all. This really sucks.

My heart rate kicks up a notch. In this fucked up world, where most humans died out after the virus spread across the globe and shifters took control, females—especially Omegas like me—became in short supply. We're like honey to bees for Alphas. And I've had my fair share of that crap.

The way he's staring at me, already starting to make his way over... I can tell exactly what he wants.

Me.

Dread coils in my stomach. This was supposed to be my paradise island, my escape from monsters until I found a way to reach my brother, but it seems the monsters have found me, anyway.

I turn and run for the mountains, praying there's a cave, a crevice, anything I can hide in. I keep my human form—if I shift to wolf, he'll track me even faster by my scent. My legs burn, my lungs heaving as I push myself harder than I have in years.

Heart pounding wildly in my chest, I know I'm panicking, but I've encountered enough men in my life to know they're all the same. They want to control, to rut, to breed us. So, if I can just hide, I can spy on who else lives on this island, if they're dangerous, and plan my next move.

I risk a look behind me and nearly trip. He's right there, so close, I can see the individual raindrops on his skin. True fear slams into me, stealing my breath.

"Well, well." His voice is a deep growl that sends shivers down my spine. "What do we have here? A little Omega, all alone out at night?"

I try to dodge faster ahead of him, but he's too fast and keeps up. As I stumble and glance over my shoulder once more, he's there, so damn close. His face is round, framed by light hair plastered to his head by the rain. Scars all over his arms and chest, a horrid grin, but it's his eyes that terrify me most—there's a hunger there that tells me everything I need to know. To him, I'm just a meal to sate his Alpha savage desires.

Not bothering to answer him, I sprint away. His mocking laugh follows me.

"Come on, little Omega. Don't you want to play? I promise to keep you safe from the others on the island."

I turn once more, desperate to know how close he is. Then something red catches my attention from the inside of his left arm. It's a tattoo—two half circles pressed close with a gap at the top and bottom, made of red flames, and in the middle, a straight line of more leaping fire.

I know that mark!

I've seen it before.

A cry catches in my throat as the awful truth hits me. Of all the places I could have landed…

Back in Denmark, both my family's pack, the Ulv Wolves, and my dead husband's pack, the Balor Wolves, use it. It's a mark for the worst of Alpha kind, those cast out of their own packs for crimes too heinous to forgive. They're sent to this prison island, and the magic mark that is burned into their flesh keeps them trapped here.

So, this place... it's filled with feral shifters who once lived in Denmark. The universe is playing a cruel trick on me, isn't it?

I've heard so many rumors about the violent acts they performed, tales told to scare children into behaving. Be good, or you'll end up on the island with the feral Alphas.

Fuck me.

Of all places, I had to land on fucking Nightmare Island.