Chapter two

**BLACKWOOD PACK TERRITORY**

The first thing that pierces through the fog in my head is pain. A dull, throbbing ache that spreads across my skull, stealing my awareness for a moment. I blink into the darkness. Night has settled over the world. The sky above is black, studded with stars, but the moon is missing, leaving the night emptier somehow.

I sit up slowly, wincing at the sharp pang in my wrist. My hand instinctively goes to it, but as soon as I touch the spot, the pain vanishes, as if it never existed. It's the magic—like so much else, it's fading from me, pulling away, leaving me tethered to something less than I was.

I inhale deeply, the scent of oranges filling my nose. My stomach growls—loud, insistent, sharp. The hunger strikes like a predator. And then it hits me.

I'm human now.

The realization is a heavy weight in my gut, sharp and undeniable. I need food. I need to eat. *Survive.*

I sigh, the sound a mixture of frustration and exhaustion, and push myself to my feet. If the magic had worked as it should, I should be standing on Blackwood territory right now, surrounded by wolves and their power.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch movement—subtle, barely there—but unmistakable.

I'm not alone.

My heart starts to race, and I force myself to stay calm, to not let the fear of being outnumbered take over. Another movement. More than one.

I'm surrounded.

I take a deep breath, focusing on the sound of the night, the sharp edge of the air, and prepare for whatever comes.

A dark figure steps from the shadows in front of me. Tall, looming, with a presence that feels like it could swallow me whole. He addresses me, his voice smooth but commanding.

"Your stance is set to defend."

I smell him before I see him clearly. Damson Jang. The name clicks in my mind, familiar, and yet... distant. I know how all my children taste. How they smell. Every one of them.

"You have me surrounded," I reply, my voice even, stronger than I feel. "I think it's only fair I'm prepared."

His lips move, a faint twitch that could be a smile. My eyes narrow, but my vision isn't what it once was. Not as sharp, not as clear. My immortality… it's slipping away with every moment. I feel it.

"You're on our land," he says, voice almost teasing. "I think it's fair that you're surrounded."

I shrug, playing the part, though irritation claws at me. "You have a point."

"Now that we've had our small talk, would you mind telling me who you are?"

Damn it. I didn't think of a name. Not one for this... this mortal shell I now wear.

Damson clicks his tongue, the sound sharp and impatient.

"Lana," I finally say, though the name feels hollow on my tongue, a far cry from who I truly am. A small difference from my real name, but it'll have to do.

"Lana who?"

"Just Lana," I reply quickly, not bothering to elaborate.

He narrows his eyes, suspicion flickering across his face. But then he turns, and I see him gesture to the side, to someone hidden in the darkness.

"Mateo," he says. "Escort Just Lana to the alpha."

A figure steps forward, emerging from the trees like a shadow given flesh. He bows, a deep, respectful motion, and my nose picks up the scent before he even speaks.

Mateo Princely. Married to a woman who isn't his mate. The stench of his unfulfilled bond makes my stomach churn. Disgusting.

His hands are soft when he offers them to me, calm and polite. At least he's courteous.

"Take my hand," he says, voice quiet, a hint of something almost... kind in it. "You're not a prisoner yet. You shan't be treated as one."

I grasp his hand, feeling the warmth of him, the softness. His real mate, Lucia Mendez, would love these hands. How bitter.

---

The alpha's home is as grand as I expect. A reflection of his power, his pride. It's beautiful in a cold, domineering way. Mateo leads me inside, through a large living room where, in the center, an imposing throne waits like an altar to arrogance.

On it sits Alpha Kane, one of my creations. A child I selected, molded, to lead this pack. Standing beside him is Damson.

Mateo bows again, but I do not. I won't. Not in the presence of something I shaped.

Alpha Kane gestures for Mateo to leave with a careless flick of his hand. He's not even looking at me directly. I stand in front of him, feeling the weight of his gaze only when he finally speaks.

"Who are you?" His voice is thick with disinterest, the tone that of someone who would rather be anywhere else.

I don't bow. Not to him. Not anymore.

"I am Lana." My words are clear, unshaken. Why should I fear in the presence of my creation?

He sighs, an exasperated sound. "Where do you come from? What are you doing here, and why shouldn't I order you dead?"

I take a breath, the answer already formed, rolling off my tongue as if it's not the first time I've told this lie.

"I do not come from any pack," I begin, steady. "I was given to the Rosy East side fairies as a child, to serve the high fairy there, Madina Ros Jeur. As you may already know, the Rosy East side fairies were attacked a month ago. Madina instructed me to come to you. She said I would be cared for until it is safe for me to be out in the open again."

Damson steps forward, his eyes narrowing. "Do you have proof?"

I nod, my fingers brushing the small pouch at my side. From it, I pull a handful of red dust and throw it into the air. It swirls, gathering, and forms into the shape of Madina's image, suspended in the dust.

"Alpha Kane," Madina's voice echoes from the image. "As you know, we've been attacked. I had to shrink my people to save them, and it drained me. I no longer have the power to protect this girl, so I entrust her to you, old friend. Treat her well. She is like a daughter to me. I will come for her when it is safe."

The dust falls back to the floor, a soft rain of red particles that fades away into nothing.

Kane watches me, his gaze thoughtful but cold.

"Damson," he says, voice steady.

"Yes, Alpha?"

"Examine the dust."

Damson bows, walks over to the spot where the fairy dust lies, and bends to touch it. He brings it to his nose, closing his eyes. I can see the recognition flicker in his expression.

He nods.

Alpha Kane turns his gaze back to me. "Madina Ros Jeur is a good friend of mine." More than a friend, I think. "I'm taking you in as a favor to her. But if I hear for even a second that you break any of my rules, I'll throw you out of my pack and let the rogues deal with you."

I meet his eyes, my heart thudding with something close to anticipation. It is wrong to stare into the eyes of a wolf with more power than you, but Kane's wolf knows—knows that I am more than I seem. His eyes waver, just for a moment, but it's enough.

"Do I make myself clear?"

I smile, slow and deliberate, my voice soft. "Crystal clear, Alpha Kane."

---

Damson leads me to my room. It's small, humble, but the walls are clean, the furnishings simple. I don't tell him it's not the worst I've seen.

"I hope you like it," he says, his voice uncertain.

I meet his eyes, a flicker of something passing between us. My mind brushes his, just for a moment, and then I see it.

I see a woman with flaming red hair, much like my own. A woman he loved. A woman he lost. The pain of it is still there, lingering in his thoughts.

I pull back from his mind quickly, too quickly, and he smiles at me. But the smile is strained, as if it costs him something.

"Your hair," he starts, the question in his voice. "Is that the natural color?"

"Yes." It's a lie, but it's easier this way. "It's natural."

He smiles again, this time a little more easily. "It's a beautiful color."

I thank him, the words bitter on my tongue. But I don't let it show.

"Goodnight, Lana," he says, then clears his throat. "I'll be next door, in case you need anything."

"Goodnight," I reply, watching him leave. When he's gone, I lock the door behind him and immediately reach out for Meera, the goddess of the fairies.

"Meera," I say, my voice low, urgent.

"Luna," she replies. "I was beginning to think the ritual didn't work."

"It worked. I'm where I'm meant to be," I tell her.

"Good," she says. "How weak are you? How much of your power have you lost?"

"I barely have any," I confess. "I'm so weak now

. But when I get more to worship me, I'll regain my strength."

I feel her smile through the connection.

"Good. Then your children won't be wiped out during the war?"

"I hope not," I murmur. "Is she ready yet? The one we made?"

"Yes," Meera says. "I was waiting for you to confirm your success. I'll send her down now. All I need is to breathe your breath into her."

A smile curves my lips.

"Thank you, Meera."

"The best way to thank me," she replies, her voice warm, "is to not get caught."

"Understood. I'll be careful."

"Good. I'll send her soon. Goodbye, my friend."

The connection closes, and I'm left alone in the silence of the room, my mind already racing with the next steps. I couldn't convince all seven packs in less than two years. I had to make someone to help. Someone who isn't fully werewolf, nor mortal.

Someone who will disappear when the war is over.

And soon, that someone will be sent to me.

To help.