PROLOGUE

The night smelled of blood and betrayal.

The Silverfang Pack’s Alpha, Gideon Thornwood, staggered through the forest, his breaths coming out forced and ragged. His mate Liora limped beside him, her golden fur darkened with streaks of crimson. The tree branches cast shadows across the clearing and their leaves danced energetically in the wind, as if mocking them and what was about to happen.

They were being hunted.

Gideon knew he had made a mistake the moment they crossed into Nightclaw territory. The uneasy truce between the two packs had always been fragile, but desperation had driven him to risk it. Reports of rogue attacks had grown more frequent, and when one of his warriors had been found slaughtered at the border, he had needed answers. The two alphas had talked and decided to finally make peace. He had gone alone, with his wife and daughter, because there was no need for back up...he was going to make peace.

What he found instead was an ambush.

A dark blur lunged from the shadows—a wolf, massive and ruthless. Gideon barely had time to react before it crashed into him, sending them both rolling across the forest floor. Snarling, he shifted mid-fall, landing on two feet, claws elongated, ready to strike. The wolf before him transformed just as fast, revealing Magnus Vale, the Nightclaw Alpha, his silver eyes burning with fury.

"You should not have come here, Gideon," Magnus growled, stepping forward, his broad shoulders tense.

"We were looking for answers," Gideon spat, baring his fangs. "Not a fight."

"And yet my warriors lie dead," Magnus snapped, his voice laced with rage.

Before Gideon could respond, the air shifted—the sound of footsteps, the scent of blood.

Liora gasped.

A second wolf emerged from the trees—a Nightclaw warrior, his claws dripping red. At his feet lay one of their own, a Silverfang warrior, his throat torn open.

It was a setup.

Gideon barely had time to react before Magnus moved. With a vicious snarl, the Nightclaw Alpha launched himself forward. Claws met flesh, and suddenly the clearing exploded into chaos.

Gideon fought with everything he had, but he was outnumbered. Liora tried to defend him, but a third wolf struck from the side, sending her crashing into the base of a tree with a sickening crack.

"No!" Gideon roared, his fury turning to panic. He rushed toward her, but Magnus intercepted him, slashing deep into his side.

Pain burned through him, and the world tilted.

Liora’s trembling fingers reached for him. Her lips formed his name. Sage.

Gideon felt himself stumble, and prayed that Magnus had not caught the faint whisper. He hoped that the honeysuckle bushes she was hidden under would be able to mask his daughter's scent, at least until these beasts decided they had had their fun. With the last of his strength, he lunged at Magnus, but the other wolf was ready. Effortlessly, he launched an injured Gideon into a tree, and Gideon immediately felt the blood running down the side of his face where his head had slammed into the thick bark.

Then—darkness.

And silence.

~~~~~TWELVE YEARS LATER~~~~~

Sage Thornwood stood at the edge of the Silverfang territory, her breath curling into the cold night air. Beneath the full moon, her wolf stirred, restless.

Ever since that night, she had come here, to where it had all happened, and she had spent her entire life preparing for the day she could avenge her parents.

And now, that day was closer than ever.

Tomorrow, she would come face to face with Kieran Vale, the heir to the Nightclaw Pack. The son of the man who had murdered her parents, and her greatest enemy.

And the boy who, unknown to her, would soon become the only person who would understand her heart.