Isla woke to loud knocking on her bedroom door. Her heart jumped as last night's memories rushed back—the silver tree, the strange power, Alina's threat. "Isla! Open up!" Her father's voice sounded worried. She jumped out of bed and opened the door. Her father stood there, face pale. "What's wrong?" she asked. "Alpha Roderick has called you to the castle. Now." Isla's stomach dropped. "Is it about what happened with Alina?" Her father frowned. "What happened with Alina?" So Alina hadn't told anyone yet. But then why would the Alpha want to see her? "Nothing," Isla said quickly. "Just a small argument." "Well, whatever it is, hurry and get dressed. When the Alpha calls, you don't keep him waiting." Isla had never been to the castle before. Omegas weren't allowed unless they were slaves. She threw on her nicest clothes—a simple blue dress with a worn jean jacket—and tucked her mother's necklace safely underneath.
The silver stone from the tree still sat on her desk. Without thinking, she slipped it into her pocket. "Ready," she said, stepping out of her room. Her father looked nervous as they walked through the pack grounds toward the huge stone castle on the hill. Other wolves stopped to stare at them. "Why would Alpha Roderick want to see me?" Isla whispered. "I don't know," her father said. "But show respect. Keep your head down. And don't speak unless spoken to." Isla nodded, trying to slow her racing heart. Had someone seen her by the silver tree? Did the Alpha somehow know about her strange moment of power? The castle loomed above them, old stone walls reaching toward the sky. Two guards stood at the door, their faces hard as they looked at Isla. "The Alpha is waiting in the throne room," one said, opening the huge wooden door. Isla's father squeezed her hand. "I'll be right beside you." They walked through grand halls with high ceilings. Paintings of past Alphas hung on the walls, their eyes seeming to follow Isla. She'd never felt smaller or more out of place. The throne room doors stood open. Inside, Alpha Roderick sat on a stone throne, his face serious and his eyes sharp. He was a large man with salt-and-pepper hair and a beard that made him look like a king from a fairy tale—but not the kind who grants wishes. "Approach," he ordered. Isla and her father walked forward, stopping at the foot of the three stone steps that led to the throne. Her father bowed low. Isla quickly copied him. "Leave us, Rowan," Alpha Roderick said. Her father's head snapped up. "But Alpha—" "I said leave us."
The Alpha's words left no room for argument. With a worried glance at Isla, her father backed away. "I'll be right outside," he whispered before leaving. The doors closed with a heavy thud. Isla stood alone before the Alpha, trying not to shake. "Isla Blackthorn," Alpha Roderick said, studying her like she was a problem. "You turned eighteen yesterday." "Yes, Alpha," she said, surprised he knew her birthday. He stood and walked down the steps. He circled her slowly, eyes narrowing. "Did anything unusual happen on your birthday?" he asked. Isla's mouth went dry. "Unusual, Alpha?" "Dreams. Feelings. Strange occurrences." His eyes bored into hers. She thought about the silver tree, the vision, the stone in her pocket. "No, Alpha." His nose flared, and she realized he could smell her lie. Wolves could always smell lies. "You have your mother's eyes," he said suddenly. "And her poor ability to hide the truth." Isla's heart beat.
The Alpha had known her mother? "I'm not lying," she tried again. Alpha Roderick laughed, a short bark with no humor. "Child, I've been waiting for signs of your awakening for eighteen years. Don't bother denying it." Isla's knees felt weak. "My awakening? I don't understand." The Alpha returned to his chair and sat down. "You're not just an omega, Isla. You never were. Your mother was special, and so are you." The stone in Isla's pocket grew warm. She clutched it through the cloth. "Your father wanted to protect you, to keep you hidden. But the time for hiding is over." Alpha Roderick leaned forward. "You have a role to play in this pack's future. A very important job." Before Isla could ask what he meant, a side door opened. Her breath caught in her throat.
Three young guys walked in, moving with the confident grace of born wolves. The Alpha's triplet kids. Isla had seen them from afar but never this close. Never close enough to see their faces clearly or feel their power. "My sons," Alpha Roderick stated, gesturing toward them. "Thorne, Caspian, and Dorian." The first brother, Thorne, was tall with wide shoulders and dark hair cut short. A scar ran along his jawline, and his gray eyes held a gravity that made Isla want to step back. He wore a black T-shirt that showed muscles built from years of training. His face gave nothing away as he looked at her. The second boy, Caspian, had the same dark hair but longer, brushing his shoulders. His blue eyes sparkled with something that might be interest or mischief. He wore a leather jacket and moved with an easy confidence, a half-smile playing on his lips as he studied her. The third brother, Dorian, was slightly shorter than the others but no less strong. His green eyes were thoughtful, his face softer than his brothers'. He wore a simple button-up shirt with rolled sleeves, showing wrists marked with what looked like ink stains. Three brothers, so alike yet so different. The future heads of the pack. And they were all looking at her like they'd never seen an omega before. "Isla," Alpha Roderick said, "these are my boys. Boys, this is Isla Blackthorn. Rowan's daughter." Thorne's eyebrows rose slightly. "The Beta's daughter? The omega?" Isla winced at his tone. "Show respect, Thorne," Alpha Roderick warned. "Isla is more than she appears." Caspian stepped forward, that half-smile growing. "Well, I think she appears pretty interesting already." He held out his hand. "Nice to meet you, Isla." Unsure what to do, Isla took his hand. The moment their skin touched, a jolt ran up her arm—not painful like with the tree, but warm and electric. Caspian's eyes widened, and he yanked his hand back. "What was that?" he asked, staring at his hand. Dorian moved closer, his green eyes curious. "May I?" he asked softly, offering his hand. Hesitantly, Isla touched his hand. The same warm jolt, but softer this time, like a gentle wave. Dorian didn't pull away. Instead, his eyes searched hers with wonder. "Interesting," he whispered. Thorne crossed his arms, watching from a distance. "I don't need to touch her to know what she is." "And what am I?" Isla asked, finding her voice at last. Alpha Roderick stood.
"That's enough for today. Isla, you will return tomorrow at sunset. My kids will show you around the castle grounds." "But—" Isla started. "No questions now," the Alpha said strongly. "Go home, rest, and prepare yourself. Things are about to change for you." Thorne stepped forward. "Father, is this wise? She's naive, unaware. The full moon is in three days." "I'm aware of the moon's cycle," Alpha Roderick snapped. "This is not your decision." The stone in Isla's pocket grew hot, almost burning through the cloth. She shifted uncomfortably, and Dorian's eyes flicked to her hand. "What's in your pocket?" he asked quietly. Before she could answer, a howl echoed outside the house. Alpha Roderick tensed. "Intruders," Thorne said, already moving toward the door. "From the north." "Go," Alpha Roderick ordered his sons. "Isla, you're fired. Return tomorrow as instructed."
As the triplets rushed out, Caspian stopped beside her. "Tomorrow then, Isla Blackthorn." His eyes held a promise that made her shiver. The doors opened, and her father rushed in. "Isla, are you alright?" "She's fine," Alpha Roderick said. "Take her home. Keep her safe until tomorrow." As her father led her out, Isla looked back. The Alpha was watching her with a look she couldn't read—expectation, calculation, or perhaps even fear. Outside the castle, wolves ran in all directions, answering to the intruder alert. Isla's father rushed her down the path. "What did he want?" he asked anxiously. "What did he say about your mother?" "He said I have a role to play," Isla answered, still dazed from meeting the triplets. "Dad, what did he mean? And why did the triplets look at me like that?" Her father's face paled. "We need to get home. Now." As they rushed across the pack grounds, Isla felt the strange pulling feeling again—like invisible threads connecting her to the castle behind them. To the three boys who had looked at her with such intensity. In her pocket, the silver stone pulsed with warmth, beating like a second heart. And somewhere in the bush beyond the pack lands, a wolf howled—a sound that seemed to call her name.