Chapter 4

• Nysa POV
• The tent smelled like smoke, pine, and too many wolves. I’d barely made it back from the ceremony before Myra shoved a mug of something warm into my hands and collapsed beside me.
• “Congratulations, newly awakened,” she said, voice still rough from all the chanting.
• “Fantastic,” I muttered. “I’ve got a glowing problem and a headache. Ten out of ten, would do again.”
• She snorted into her cup. “You’re supposed to feel blessed, Nys.”
• “Right. Blessed. That must be what this is—blinding rage and heartburn.”
• Inside my head, Lyssandra laughed softly. You’ll get used to me.
• “Oh good,” I muttered, “she talks.”
• Myra raised a brow. “She?”
• “My wolf.” I rubbed my temples. “Apparently she’s chatty.”
• You’re welcome, Lyssa said, far too pleased. It’s about time you listened.
• “I was fine before you showed up.”
• You were incomplete.
• “That’s one word for it.”
• He completes us.
• I blinked. “Nope. Don’t start.”
• Mate.
• “Stop it.”
• Mate.
• “Not happening.”
• The pulse in my chest thudded hard, enough that I flinched. Myra caught it immediately. “You okay?”
• “Fine. Just… internal wolf nonsense.”
• She studied me. “You felt the bond, didn’t you?”
• “Felt what?”
• “The bond. Don’t play dumb. I saw your face out there.”
• “I’m fine.”
• “Who is he?”
• “There isn’t one.”
• “Liar. You’re literally glowing again.”
• I looked down—sure enough, faint silver shimmer along my wrist. “Oh for—can I get a refund on whatever magic did this?”
• Lyssa purred, smug. He has a name. You know it.
• “Don’t.”
• Darius.
• The name escaped me before I realized I’d said it out loud. Myra’s head snapped up, eyes wide.
• “What?” I asked quickly.
• She smiled way too slow. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”
• “Myra—”
• “Oh, nothing important,” she said, fighting a grin. “Just wondering how your brother’s going to take the news.”
• I groaned. “Please don’t—”
• The tent flap opened. “Don’t what?” Ronan stepped inside, still wearing his ceremonial coat.
• Myra mouthed oops at me.
• Ronan’s gaze went between us. “What are you two whispering about?”
• “Nothing,” I said too fast.
• Myra smiled like a wolf who’d just scented prey. “Your sister met her mate.”
• “Myra!”
• “What? He’s your brother. He deserves to know.”
• Ronan froze, expression splitting between shock and something that looked dangerously like hope. “You did?”
• “I—It’s not important.”
• “Of course it’s important! Who is he?”
• “It doesn’t—”
• “She doesn’t want to tell you,” Myra said, still enjoying herself far too much.
• “Myra, I swear to the moon—”
• Ronan’s eyes narrowed. “Is it someone from our pack?”
• “No.”
• “Then who?”
• Silence. Myra hesitated, looked at me, saw the panic in my eyes. I shook my head—don’t you dare.
• She mouthed sorry.
• Then she said it anyway. “Darius Fenwick.”
• The air turned solid.
• Ronan’s face went blank, then dark. “What did you just say?”
• “She’s mistaken,” I said fast. “It’s some kind of—”
• “Tell me she’s lying.”
• “I didn’t choose this!”
• He took a slow, dangerous step toward me. “He killed our father, Nysa.”
• “I know!”
• “And you—”
• “I didn’t choose it, Ronan! The bond chose me!”
• He stared at me for a long, heavy second, jaw working, eyes full of something between rage and heartbreak. “If it’s true,” he said quietly, “I’ll end him myself.”
• “You’ll start a war.”
• “Then we’ll have one.”
• He turned and walked out before I could stop him.
• Myra groaned, slumping back on the cot. “Well, that went well.”
• I dropped into the nearest chair, head in my hands. “I hate fate.”
• Lyssa hummed in my mind, calm as always. He’ll come for us.
• “Not if I kill him first.”
• Her laugh was soft and cruel. He won’t let you.