Chapter 3 What an Alpha Can't Undo

Cassian

The Council Hall stank of smoke and judgment.

Cassian sat at the head of the long stone table, flanked by Elders whose voices cut through the air like blades. They spoke with the slow, deliberate cruelty of vultures circling, feasting on a mistake he couldn't undo.

"You must reject the bond," Elder Verin said again, for the third time that hour. His gnarled hand tapped the table with rhythmic insistence. "Formally. Publicly. And with enough clarity that Crescent doesn't interpret your silence as defiance."

Cassian didn't respond. His eyes remained fixed on the empty space near the entrance. Two days ago, Thalia had stood there, shoulders squared, chin high, defiant even as the Council passed judgment. Her absence now echoed louder than any word spoken. It gnawed at him like an open wound.

"I won't lie," he said quietly, voice low and tight.

"You already did," Kael snapped. His Beta rarely raised his voice, but now it vibrated with restrained fury. "By omission. You didn't name her. You didn't warn the pack. You let them think she was nothing. Now we've got a firestorm, Crescent's envoy are circling, Elira's father is threatening trade embargoes, and..."

"Elira isn't my Luna," Cassian cut in, sharper than steel.

"She was supposed to be," Verin said, voice cold and edged with politics. "You made a promise."

"I never promised her anything."

A tense, brittle silence followed. Even the flickering torchlight seemed to dim.

Cassian rose from his seat, slow and deliberate. "I'm not rejecting the bond."

Kael's face hardened. "Then what the hell will you do?"

Cassian's hands curled at his sides. "Fix it."

"Fix it?" Verin scoffed, eyebrows arching. "You think this can be fixed with a search party and an apology? You marked her, you bit her without a claim, without a ceremony. She's gone. Banished. If she lives, she's rogue now."

"I'll find her," Cassian said. "I'll bring her back. And I'll give the Council something they can't argue with."

Verin leaned forward, lip curling. "And what would that be?"

Cassian met his gaze, unwavering. "Proof that she was meant to be mine."

---

Thalia

He was taller than she'd expected.

The man from Black Hollow stood beneath the forest canopy like he belonged there, more shadow than flesh. His clothes were ragged but clean, dark hair pulled back in a leather tie, and a faded scar ran from the corner of his lip down to his jawline. His arms were crossed over his chest, but the tension in his stance spoke of a fighter ready to spring.

"You've been sleeping in my forest," he said, voice rough as gravel. "Didn't think the healer's daughter would be stupid enough to wander here alone."

Thalia didn't flinch. "I didn't come looking for you."

"Liar."

Her grip tightened on the strap of her satchel.

"Who are you?" she asked.

He took a step closer, boots silent on the moss-covered ground. "Veyr."

The name meant nothing. But the moment it left his mouth, the wind stilled. The trees listened.

He circled her like a predator assessing prey. "You're the one they banished. The Alpha's mistake."

Her jaw clenched. "You don't know anything about me."

"I know more than you think, wolf-girl. I know your mother's name. I know the mark on your shoulder wasn't just instinct, it was prophecy. And I know you don't belong to Moonridge."

She blinked. "What do you mean?"

He stopped, gaze sharpening. "Your mother wasn't from there. Not originally. She was Syndicate."

The word struck like a slap. A sharp crack across the fragile narrative she'd built since exile.

"No," she whispered. "My mother was a healer."

Veyr smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "So was I. Before I became something else."

---

Cassian

By the time Cassian reached the edge of the forest, his skin was already splitting, bones lengthening, vision sharpening. He let the shift take him fully.

The wolf burst forward, sleek, black, muscular, cutting through branches and brush like a shadow given form. Leaves blurred past, the air a howl in his ears.

The bond was faint now. Fainter than before. Like a whisper buried under centuries of silence. But it still existed.

It tugged him deeper, toward the forbidden woods of Black Hollow, where even the most seasoned warriors refused to venture. Territory abandoned generations ago, left to rot and myth.

He didn't care.

He ran for hours, the moon cresting above the treetops. He crossed ravines, splashed through streams, dodged tangled roots like they were old enemies. His body ached, but the bond pulsed. Alive. Just enough to keep him moving.

And then he caught it-her scent.

Real. Unmasked. Free of perfume or fear.

His wolf nearly staggered.

He shifted back mid-stride, stumbling to human form just beyond a crumbling archway choked with ivy. Chest heaving. Bare. Silent.

She was here.

Alive.

And not alone.

---

Thalia

"My mother never told me..."

"Of course she didn't," Veyr said, tossing a cloth bundle toward her. It landed by her feet. Dried meat, wrapped in waxed linen. "She left the Syndicate for a reason. Hiding your bloodline was the only way to keep you alive."

Thalia stared at the bundle. Her fingers trembled as she picked it up. Her stomach twisted with hunger and doubt.

"You want answers, wolf-girl? Eat first. Then I'll show you what Moonridge never wanted you to know."

She sat, slow and wary, taking a bite. It was salty, smoky, surprisingly tender. Better than anything she'd eaten in days.

"You said Syndicate," she said. "What is that?"

Veyr's expression turned distant. Stormy. "A rogue society. Old. Hidden. We don't serve packs. We don't bow to Councils or bloodlines. We serve one thing which is balance. And your mother was one of us."

"And me?"

He gave her a long look. "You're her daughter. That means you're ours. Whether you like it or not."

She swallowed. The warmth of the food did nothing to chase the chill gathering in her spine.

"I didn't ask for this."

"You didn't ask to be bitten either, did you?" he said softly.

Silence swallowed them. A silence louder than any scream.

---

Cassian

He found the ruins just after dawn.

Black Hollow. A name whispered in stories to frighten pups into obedience.

The old village stood broken, swallowed by moss and decay. Crumbling stones. Shattered windows. Ash from a fire that burned long ago.

Cassian crept forward, bare feet silent on the earth. Every nerve buzzed.

She was there.

Sitting beside a man.

A stranger.

Too close. Too comfortable.

Cassian's heart clenched. His fists curled.

He stepped forward, the sound deliberate, sharp.

"Thalia."

She turned and in her eyes, he saw a storm. Fear. Hurt. Anger. A flicker of something else. Something like longing.

Then it was gone.

She rose slowly. Composed. Distant. Nothing like the girl who'd once reached for him in a crowded hall, unsure but open.

"Alpha," she said.

Not Cassian. Not my mate.

Just Alpha.

It cut deeper than claws ever could.

---

Thalia

He came like a storm.

No warning. No apology. Just presence. Wild and overwhelming.

His shirt hung in tatters, his dark hair tangled, face smeared with dirt and sweat. His eyes burned with desperation, but she refused to meet them fully.

"I came to bring you home," he said.

She didn't move. "There's no home for me there."

He stepped closer. "Thalia..."

"No." Her voice cracked but didn't waver. "You bit me in front of them. Then you stood there while they banished me like I was dirt under their boots."

"I made a mistake," he said, his voice ragged.

"You let them break me, Cassian."

Silence fell like snowfall. Heavy. Suffocating.

Then Veyr stood, slow and loose-limbed, but the tension in him was unmistakable.

"She's under my protection now."

Cassian's head snapped toward him. "Who the hell are you?"

"Someone who saw her value before you did."

The air charged instantly. Two alphas, toe to toe.

"Don't," Thalia said sharply, stepping between them. "I don't need two men fighting over who gets to fix me."

Cassian's gaze softened, just slightly. "Then what do you need?"

Thalia stared at him. The forest around them waited.

"I need time."