Vikron's POV:
Skyla had mind-linked me to hurry to the lab. There had been an attack.
"Still tending to old wounds, huh?" Elder McKenzie Adrish said, casting a questioning glance in my direction.
He was the only blood relative I had left—the only survivor from my mother's family after the betrayal twelve years ago. The one who had stayed with me after I was banished from the pack.
He was also the one who had almost lost his right leg during an attack with some rogues a year after the betrayal, leaving his leg scarred with a silver poison that had nearly ripped off his bone.
Scars were what we had shared from our time together—reminders of all we had stood for and fought for, side by side.
"I hurried here as soon as I got Skyla's message through the pack link," I said, avoiding his question.
Of course, he knew where I had been—the dammed old man.
"Well, you should be the first to get here next time. That's why you're the alpha," he snapped, his anger pointed.
"Demuel has the girl. You go figure out what to do with her," he added before leaving.
He was old, but definitely gold. His strength hadn't dimmed with age.
Moving into the space Skyla had sculpted into her office, she stood watching the pieces of broken equipment on the floor. She was hurt—I could feel the anger emanating from her.
"It was fast. It just happened, so quickly! I don't know how I just missed it. I needed to tend to some of the pack warriors who got injured," she was sniffling.
"I'm sorry I couldn't get here sooner. I came as soon as I got the message," I said, feeling disoriented—guilty for not being here when they needed me.
"You don't have to apologize. I totally get it," she replied, fumbling for something on the table.
"Elder McKenzie said it shifted into a girl," I offered, wanting to gauge how much I needed to prepare for.
"Yes," she said, then paused. "But we know beasts do not shift," she added, finally glancing up to face me, her puffy eyes fluttering.
She was onto something, so I said nothing. I stood, waiting for her to go on.
"It's the same beast from Camille's vision the day she went into panic. She told me about it."
I looked up at the open ceiling, dark clouds filling the sky. This was just a snippet of what might come if they decided to target her—especially now that they knew where she was.
"It's a signal from Sigewuf. He's coming," I said, still staring into the dark clouds.
She nodded. "Yeah, I suspected too."
"Go to the pack house and fetch some of the silver from the armory for the border patrol. We have a lot to do," I commanded.
She nodded and headed straight to the pack house.
Skyla wasn't one to display signs of weakness or to be easily affected by things—except when it concerned the pack. That meant everything to her.
And losing some pack warriors made her feel incapacitated—like she wasn't enough. She hadn't said it outright, but it was in her eyes—the same feeling that had consumed me the night Julia was murdered.
My one true love and mate. I had learned to live with the guilt and the haunting memories that would sometimes resurface, causing old wounds to open anew.
I would never be able to love another—a silent but domineering curse from the moon goddess. Over the past twelve years, no woman had appealed to me. Twelve years—my heart had lost the ability to feel passion, even in the smallest way, until she appeared.
Pushing the past aside, I went to the back to search for Beta Demuel.
Elder McKenzie stood over him, his strong frame clad in a cream-colored shirt tucked into blue denim.
"She's going to bring us trouble—something bigger than this," Elder McKenzie said, his hands tugging into the side pockets of his denim.
His words disturbed me, and I paused.
"We can't avoid it," I replied.
"We can send her back," he rasped. "I thought you'd moved on. Using her to get to Sigewuf isn't what you need."
"I'm not using her," I said, my tone sharp and cutting through the tension.
"She came to us. She needs our help, and that's what we're doing—helping her!"
"Skyla told you about her visions. You knew she was coming," Elder McKenzie added, veins bulging on his hands.
"I had no idea it had anything to do with Sigewuf. All I was doing was helping—like the many others we've taken in," I snapped, unaware of where the pent-up emotions were coming from.
"Don't deceive yourself, son. This girl is going to bring more than you expect. She's bigger than what you think, and I can feel it," he warned.
I shrugged. "Then we'll stay prepared for whatever's coming—that's final," I commanded, adopting my alpha tone.
"Of course, alpha," he replied with a hint of mockery in his voice.
"Demuel, meet me at the pack house when you're done. Let's reinforce the barricades," I said, shooting him a stern look before turning and leaving.
"I think he's right," Demuel muttered, rising to his feet.
"Some things can be right, and yet so wrong, Demuel," I said, waving the topic off with my hand.
My gaze fell on the girl seated on the floor, her legs bound in silver chains. Dark hair cascaded down her back.
"Has she said anything yet?" I asked, my gruff voice causing her to cover her ears with her hands.
"No."
"Send her to the dungeon. I'll speak to her myself. For now, I think I'll head back to the pack house to see Camille," I said.
Her eyes shot up immediately—darker pupils, then quickly returning to normal, confirming my suspicion.
She was here just for Camille.
She couldn't shift into her beast form because of the silver.
She mumbled something under her breath, a scowl on her face, before pushing her head back between her legs.
Even redemption came at a cost. Many lives had to be sacrificed for one.