Chapter 1 Ashes of a throne

The rain didn't wash away blood.

Ryker Blackwood learned that the hard way.

He knelt on the edge of the Black-fang territory, the muddy earth caked beneath his claws, the metallic scent of war clinging to him like a second skin.

Thunder cracked above, and yet he didn't flinch. Nature could roar all it wanted. It was nothing compared to the silence inside him.

The silence where his wolf used to be.

Once, they'd chanted his name. Once, the Blackfang Pack had howled for him, their Alpha - fierce, just, and feared across every border. Now they whispered his name in fear. Or worse, in pity. Ryker Blackwood, the forsaken. The fallen Alpha. The fool who trusted the wrong woman.

Kaida.

He could still see her the night it all fell apart. Dressed in silver ceremonial robes, moonlight catching in her dark hair, her eyes locked on his. She looked divine - like a goddess risen from ashes.

And she was. He had pulled her from them himself. A rogue with nothing, no name, no pack. He'd given her everything.

And she had destroyed him.

He could still hear her voice echo in the great hall of Black-fang Keep. "Ryker Blackwood has broken the sacred law. He conspired with outsiders to bring death upon our kin."

Lies. All of them. But they didn't need truth. They needed a scapegoat.

And Kaida gave them one.

The Council hadn't even given him a chance to speak. His Beta - a brother in all but blood - had turned his face away in shame. Warriors he had trained with, bled with, didn't lift a hand as the verdict came down.

Stripped of title.

Stripped of wolf.

Exiled to the wilds.

A dead Alpha walking.

He should've died that night. Maybe he had, in some ways.

Now, a year later, he crouched on the outskirts, unseen, unheard, watching the distant silhouette of Blackfang Keep through sheets of rain. His claws dug into the dirt as he breathed deep. The magic still hummed on the air - the barrier that kept him out. A ward she helped cast. The same magic that caged his wolf, suppressed his power.

But it was cracking.

He could feel it, like static across his skin. Her spell was weakening. And when it broke, the monster they made would be the one knocking at their gates.

A low growl rumbled in his chest.

"Easy," came a voice from behind him.

Ryker turned slightly. A lanky young wolf, barely twenty, stepped forward, soaked to the bone, eyes wide with fear and awe. Dax. A stray Ryker had saved from a slaver camp six months ago. Loyal. Naive. Not yet broken.

"They're moving supplies through the west border," Dax said. "Under heavy guard. You want us to strike?"

Ryker said nothing for a moment. His gaze stayed locked on the keep. On the flickering torches. The guards. The place where Kaida now stood as Luna beside a new Alpha. Magnus.

"Not yet," Ryker said at last, his voice low and cold. "Let them feel safe. Let them believe the dead don't rise."

He stood slowly, the rain sliding down his muscled frame. Every scar on his body told a story, and all of them ended with her name.

"What are we waiting for?" Dax asked.

Ryker smiled, slow and cruel.

"For her to remember."

He turned and walked back into the trees, boots sinking into mud, shadows wrapping around him like an old cloak. The rogue wolves waiting in the dark parted for him like smoke. Not a word was spoken.

They feared him now. Not just as an Alpha, but as something else. Something older. Something worse.

He'd clawed his way back from death with nothing but rage and shattered loyalty. The man who once stood for honor and protection was buried under layers of ash and ice.

And still, a sliver of him - the smallest piece - remembered the warmth of her hand in his. The way she had looked at him the first time he called her "Luna."

He crushed that memory with a snarl.

Love was a weakness. He'd cut it from himself.

He wasn't back for reconciliation. He wasn't back for closure.

He was back for power.

For vengeance.

And Kaida would be the first to bleed.