Selene held the folder like it might burn her fingers.
She didn't want to open it but her wolf already knew. Whatever was inside wasn't just a mission. It was a warning.
The uniformed guard nodded. "Orders come directly from Alpha Valtore."
Her eyes snapped to his. "And if I refuse?"
He smiled without warmth. "You don't."
The guards turned and left her alone again, the door clicking shut behind them. No locks. No keys. She was free to roam just far enough to walk into whatever trap he'd set next.
She dropped to the edge of the bed and flipped the folder open.
Three photos.
A name: Elian Roarke.
A former rogue, now living under a fake identity in a neutral territory. Suspected of trafficking Moonbloods. Wanted by the Syndicate. Kill on sight.
Selene's breath caught at the second photo—grainy surveillance from a distant camera.
The man's eyes. Pale blue. Just like her mother's.
Elian Roarke wasn't a stranger.
He was her uncle.
Darius was waiting at the front of the estate when she arrived, dressed in black tactical gear, a matte pistol strapped to his thigh. No words, no explanations.
Just a curt, "We leave now."
The ride was silent.
They moved in an armored car with dark-tinted windows, the roads beneath them winding away from the safety of the Blackfang stronghold and into unfamiliar terrain. Forest blurred past on either side, thick and heavy with scent. Selene could feel her pulse rising as the bond throbbed in her chest—an echo of his heartbeat, always present, always damnably steady.
"You knew who he was," she said, finally.
"Yes."
"You want me to kill him?"
"Yes."
Her hands curled in her lap. "Why?"
"Because the council watches me, Selene. Every choice I make. They want to see what kind of wolf you are."
"So you'll use me to prove I'm loyal."
"No," he said, eyes still forward. "I'll use you to see if you're broken."
The safehouse was tucked into the edge of a valley, just beyond the reach of pack borders. One-story. Abandoned-looking. No guards. Just silence.
They approached without speaking.
Selene's heart thundered, but her steps didn't falter.
Inside, the air was stale. She smelled gun oil. Old blood. And something else familiar.
He was here.
A door creaked.
Darius raised his gun.
Selene stepped forward first.
"Elian," she called softly.
Silence.
Then— "Selene?"
He stepped out from the shadows, older than she remembered, beard thick, body thinner. But his eyes-those same pale eyes-widened with something close to joy.
"You're alive," he whispered. "They said you killed your mother—"
She raised her hand. "Don't. Not here. Not now."
He looked past her and froze.
"Valtore," he spat. "The Syndicate sends you now?"
Selene moved between them. "They sent me."
"Elian Roarke," Darius said flatly. "You've been found guilty of violating Syndicate law, trafficking Moonbloods, and resisting alpha command."
"You mean hiding survivors? Keeping them from your goddamn experiments?"
Selene flinched.
Darius didn't blink. "You can speak to the council if you surrender now."
Elian laughed bitterly. "I know what happens to people who surrender to the Blackfang."
His gaze went back to Selene. "You remember who you are, don't you? You remember your mother? What did they do to her?"
She hesitated.
One breath.
Two.
Then— "I remember that she was murdered. But I also remember who disappeared the night before it happened. You."
Elian's face twisted. "I ran because I couldn't protect you. Not from them. Not from him."
He pointed at Darius.
Selene's grip on her dagger tightened.
Everything in her screamed. Her wolf raged. But her pulse matched Darius's steady, waiting.
"I have to do this," she said.
"You don't," Elian said, stepping closer. "You still have a choice, Selene. You're not their weapon. You're her daughter."
Darius's voice cut through the tension. "You have five seconds."
Selene raised the blade.
Elian didn't fight. Didn't flinch. Just closed his eyes.
She held it to his throat and stopped.
Her fingers shook.
Darius's presence was right behind her. Watching. Measuring.
Her wolf snarled in confusion. Anger. Pain.
Then....
She turned and threw the blade straight at Darius.
It missed him by inches, slamming into the wall.
"You want me to prove I'm a killer?" she said breathlessly. "Fine. But I choose who I kill."
Elian looked stunned.
Darius's eyes darkened but he didn't move.
"You just made your choice," he said quietly.
Then he raised his gun.
And fired.