Emory shifted back to human to confront him.

“Rodyn?” Emory repeated, her voice trembling in disbelief. There he was, the man she’d shared secrets with and hadn’t stopped thinking about since leaving Kedar. How? Why was he here?

Rodyn took a step forward, his form shifting back to reveal his familiar face, now etched with new, hard lines. “Emory,” he said, his voice a low growl that vibrated with longing. “You shouldn’t have stopped. Keep going south, the Whitecrest battalion’s two minutes away and will get you to Kedar. I’m here to ensure no one follows you.”

Her gaze swept over him, noting how different he looked from what she remembered. Only wearing slacks, sweat trickled down well-defined muscles on his upper body. The sight of him ’ the first man she had ever loved ’ reignited a flurry of emotions. Those cold grey eyes watched her silently as his thick, wavy brown hair was slicked back, accentuating his stern, handsome features. Her eyes traced that scar that ran along his left cheekbone into his hair.

“You’re a Hunter Wolf,” she breathed, moving her hand instinctively to her racing heart. “But” how? There haven’t been any new Hunters.”

“You need to get out of here. We can revisit these questions later. I have to circle back to make sure you were not followed,” Rodyn said.

“Then answer me quickly!” she demanded.

Rodyn hesitated, his gaze shifting away before returning to meet hers with a small frown. “After you left, things” changed. I woke as Hunter right after, and Trey thought it wise to keep it a secret, considering I was the only one.”

Before she could digest Rodyn’s explanation, the howls of approaching Lycans sliced through the hot morning air.

“Go!” Rodyn shouted, and she did. Shifting and sprinting through the woods at breakneck speed.

Trey’s strategy of putting Rodyn in her path was a good one, even if it’s risky. Her concern for Kinshra and now Rodyn wove a tight knot in her stomach. Rodyn rekindled memories and emotions she thought were dead. Seeing him again was good. In her head, she kept thinking about him, about their brief but bittersweet reunion. He hadn’t seemed overjoyed to see her—but what did she really expect? It’d been over a decade.

Lost in thought, Emory collided with an immovable force—or rather, someone. Stumbling back, she found herself facing four Gammas, their forms shifting as they appraised her with curious eyes. There were a bunch of black SUVs waiting around them. Emory shifted back to her human form, feeling the stretch and pull of her limbs as she returned to her original shape.

“Lady Chav’re,” they greeted in unison.

Her fiery hair and vibrant green eyes betrayed her identity every time. Then it hit her-the lengths her brothers had gone to to keep her safe and hide her from whatever this was. Considering the Lycans were trying to wipe out all Ultima wolves and drive them into extinction, she was a much easier target than Trey.

“Get me out of here,” Emory commanded. The squadron nodded. They escorted her to one of the awaiting SUVs. The vehicle’s door opened, and hands, firm yet gentle, guided her inside the spacious interior.

When the door closed with a soft thud, Emory sank into the leather seat, taking a moment to breathe. She took it all in as she switched from the wild chase through the woods to the safety of her pack. Over two dozen Whitecrest wolves were scattered among the convoy of cars. The wolves, her pack, were a mixed group of young warriors, male and female, and she could barely recognize any of them.

As the convoy lurched into motion, the cars rolled away from the clearing. She caught the profiles of the men in the front seat. Then she looked back, searching for any signs of Aunt Kinshra or Rodyn.

Who would have thought he’d be a Hunter Wolf? It was so unbelievable. The Rodyn she remembered was on his way to becoming Alpha of the Rolan pack. He was a Hunter Wolf Alpha, and she was amazed.

And then there was Trey, the Alpha of the Whitecrest pack and reigning Ultima of the Empire. Her mind flickered back to the day he had been thrown into the leadership challenge, a mere nineteen-year-old facing their father’s ruthless Beta. While an Alpha is responsible for leading and protecting their pack, an Ultima holds a much higher position in the Empire. As the reigning Ultima, Trey not only oversees the affairs of the Whitecrest pack but also serves as the ultimate authority and decision-maker for all the werewolf packs within the Empire.

One of the most incredible things about Chav—res—by the goddess” will—was that with a bite, they could turn a human into a wolf.

As they neared Kedar, Emory felt a shift in her, a focus hardening as they approached. That ambush had peeled away the veil of ignorance that had cocooned her for the last decade. She needed to bridge the gap between her former life and her new reality.

The scenery changed as they approached Kedar. As the forests gave way to open plains, Emory saw the towering peaks that marked Kedar’s boundaries. Just as the gates came into view, she started thinking about the Hunter’s Moon. It was only three days away and with her long-standing doubts, a part of her wondered—hoped—whether this year might be different. Finding out about Rodyn inspired hope. And maybe this year’s Hunter’s Moon would be different.

Caught in reflective silence, Emory’s thoughts inadvertently found a voice. “Did you know Nolan?” The question slipped out, unbidden, addressing the men in the car with her.

After a brief flicker of surprise crossed their faces, they relaxed. They exchanged glances before the one in the passenger seat turned to her.

“Nolan was well-respected, Lady Chav’re. His legacy as Beta is not forgotten among us,” he said.

She nodded. “What about Larc?”

“Lord Chav’re was so unexpected. It happened two days ago, Lady Chav’re. Condolences,” he said, pausing as if thinking about it. “Lady Chav’re, welcome home! We’re glad to have you back in time for the last Hunter’s Moon.”

Home. The word echoed hollowly in Emory’s head, making her realize how much she’d missed out on. The smile she managed was more like a mask, a facade she wore out of necessity than sentiment.

Nodding, she turned her gaze to the passing scenery outside the window. Two days ago. Oh man, that was so recent, and she wondered how Trey was handling it.

It couldn’t be a coincidence that Larc died on the cusp of Hunter’s Moon. Her thoughts spiralled, weaving connections between her brother’s death and the upcoming celestial event. Her scepticism had been replaced by a piercing need for the Hunter Wolf myth to be true. More than ever, she wanted this war to end. Their numbers had shrivelled to a few hundred, confined to only two provinces, with the other seven dominated by the Lycans. Their fight against the Lycans looked grim.

There was a chance she was a pawn in a bigger game to bend Trey to the Lycan King’s will. Because he was Ultima, he was in the king’s way. The thought of being used against her brother made her furious.

Trying to distract herself from her worries, Emory mentioned the Hunter’s Moon. “Does Kedar still celebrate the Hunter’s Moon?” she asked.

“Yes, Lady Chav’re. This is going to be the biggest one ever. This one is supposed to be the last and end of the war,” he said.

“Ah!” Emory’s smile was almost transparent. “The Last Hunter Wolf,” she said softly. “Aworyn’s prophecy.”

“After the union on Sunday, there’s going to be a big celebration.” He paused. “According to the goddess” prophecy, wolves and Lycans will be united under this Hunter’s Moon.”

Peace between the Lycans and the Wolves? What a bunch of bullshit. It was completely unreal, but she had no business telling him that. She didn’t even want to think about it, and she knew her brother couldn’t possibly believe that.

“A union,” Emory mused aloud, her voice barely a whisper against the hum of the engine.

If the Lycans were all for the union that would bring peace, why were they trying to kidnap her? There was no logic to it.

When Kedar’s gates came into view, towering and imposing against the sky, Emory felt a twinge of sadness. The once welcoming city she remembered was now fortified with towering grey brick walls. A large, impenetrable brass gate, designed to withstand sieges, stood before them, a clear message that Kedar didn’t take any chances.

Peering out the window, she noticed the walls stretching up, only broken by the occasional guard tower and rampart. It hit her then—the reason for the Lycans” desperate move to capture her before she reached Kedar. The walls of Kedar had become an untouchable fortress, and she would be safer in there than anywhere else.

As they passed through the gates, which opened with a heavy groan of metal, Emory caught sight of the ground Gammas lined up in welcome. Each vehicle was checked with military precision, the warriors” eyes missing nothing. As the gates closed behind them, Emory took a deep breath and relaxed.

She was home.