Chapter 3 — The Rogue King’s Shadow

Aiden

Aiden stood at the edge of Silver Hollow, his gaze fixed on the ancient oaks that loomed like silent sentinels around the sacred clearing. The soft rustle of leaves in the wind should have been calming, a reminder of the pack’s unbroken connection to this land. Instead, it felt as though the forest itself held its breath. The air was heavy, thick with anticipation, as if the trees were bracing for the storm to come. His chest tightened, his wolf pacing restlessly beneath his skin, growling in agitation at the unease clawing at them both.

The scouts’ report hung in the back of his mind like a lead weight, and the tension in his body refused to ease. Frostwood Outpost—critical to the pack’s northern defenses—was gone. Its destruction wasn’t just a loss of territory; it was a wound to the pack itself. The outpost was their first alert of any northern threats, a critical line of communication and protection for vulnerable pack members. Without it, they were blind to whatever lay beyond the frostbitten pines, exposed to ambush.

The crescent moon hung low in the sky, its pale light filtering through the branches, but even its familiar glow offered no comfort. Instead, it sharpened the ache in his chest, mocking him with its serenity. He clenched his fists, his nails biting into his palms until the stinging pain refocused him. His wolf snarled, the need for action simmering, but the weight of leadership held him rooted in place.

“Aiden.” Finn’s voice broke through the oppressive stillness, and Aiden turned to see his Beta stepping into the clearing. The easy smirk Finn wore during lighter moments was gone, replaced by a grim expression that sent a fresh churn of unease through Aiden’s gut.

“The scouts?” Aiden demanded, his voice low, rough, and edged with urgency.

Finn’s hazel eyes reflected the somber weight of his news. “They’re back,” he confirmed, stepping closer. “And it’s bad. Frostwood’s gone. Burned to the ground. Nothing left but ash and blood. No survivors among the warriors stationed there.”

The words hit Aiden like a blow to the chest, and he staggered under the weight of his grief. His wolf howled in his mind, mourning the fallen. Those warriors had been his responsibility—his brothers and sisters in arms. He could still picture their faces, their loyalty unwavering as they pledged their lives to defend the pack. Now they were gone, wiped out by an enemy who thrived on destruction.

“And the attackers?” His voice was sharper this time, anger starting to claw through his sorrow.

Finn exhaled, a grim note in his tone. “Gone by dawn. No tracks leading south. It’s like they vanished into thin air.” He hesitated before adding, “But they didn’t leave us empty-handed.”

“What do you mean?” Aiden asked, his storm-gray eyes narrowing.

“They left a mark.” Finn’s gaze dropped briefly before meeting Aiden’s again. “A blackened crescent moon carved into the ground. It’s a message. This was the Rogue King.”

The image burned itself into Aiden’s mind, vivid and vile. The crescent moon, corrupted and twisted, was more than just a signature; it was a challenge. A taunt. The Rogue King was making his move, striking with precision and malice, and reminding them that no one—not even the strongest pack—was safe from his reach.

Aiden’s voice dropped to a growl. “The pack needs to know. If he thinks he can intimidate us—”

“You’re going to need her.” Finn’s interruption was quiet but unyielding.

Aiden froze, his jaw tightening. He didn’t need Finn to explain who he meant. The bond—it pulsed faintly in his chest even now, an insistent reminder of her presence, a rogue tethered to him by fate. Zara.

“She’s a rogue,” Aiden said coldly, biting off the words. “She’s not part of this pack. She never will be.”

“And yet,” Finn countered, his tone calm but firm, “she’s the one who knows how these rogues think. If the Rogue King is escalating, you can’t afford to keep her locked up in that cabin. Use her knowledge. Use her.” He stepped closer, his hazel eyes sharp and unwavering. “Aiden, we’re not going to win this fight by pretending she doesn’t exist.”

Aiden turned away, his hand gripping the Moonsteel Dagger at his belt. The blade hummed faintly, a soft vibration that mirrored the storm in his mind. He hated that Finn was right. Hated the bond that tugged at him, forcing his thoughts back to the rogue who had upended his carefully ordered world.

Without another word, Aiden strode toward the cabin. The forest seemed to close in around him as he walked, the ancient trees whispering in the night. Each step deepened the tension in his shoulders, and the mate bond hummed louder with every stride, an unrelenting pull that set his teeth on edge.

The cabin door groaned on its hinges as he pushed it open. The air inside was damp and close, carrying the scent of pine and old wood. Zara sat on the edge of the cot, her hands still bound in front of her, the flickering lantern casting shifting shadows across her sharp features. Her green eyes met his, defiant as ever, and the corner of her mouth curved into a smirk the moment she saw him.

“Back so soon?” she drawled, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Let me guess. You missed me.”

Aiden ignored the jab, his gaze sweeping over her like a predator sizing up prey. “Frostwood Outpost was destroyed last night,” he said bluntly.

Her smirk faltered, and something flickered in her eyes—shock, perhaps, or concern. “Destroyed?” she repeated.

“By your kind.”

Her expression hardened, and tension thickened in the room. “You think I had anything to do with that?” she shot back, her voice sharp.

“I think you know who was behind it,” Aiden snapped. “The Rogue King. This has his mark all over it.”

Zara’s playful façade melted away, replaced by a grim determination. “What do you want from me, Alpha?”

“I want answers.” He stepped closer, his towering frame casting a shadow over her. “Why were you on my land? What is the Rogue King planning?”

For a moment, she held his gaze, her jaw tight with resistance. Then she spoke, her voice low and steady. “The Rogue King has been targeting rogues who won’t join him. That’s why I came here. My chosen family—my allies—are in his path, and I needed to warn them. But your warriors dragged me here instead.”

Her words struck like ice, and for a moment, Aiden’s resolve wavered. “And what does he want?”

“Everything you have,” Zara said simply. “Your packs, your hierarchies, your precious traditions. He wants to tear it all down and build a world where only he holds power.” Her voice hardened. “If you think he’ll stop at Frostwood, you’re a fool.”

Aiden’s wolf bristled at the challenge in her tone, but the truth of her words was undeniable.

“And you?” he asked, his voice dropping lower. “Where do you stand in all this?”

“I stand with the people I care about,” she said, her green eyes flashing. “The ones who’ve been cast out and forgotten by your kind.”

Aiden studied her, searching for any sign of deceit. “Then you’d better decide where your loyalties lie. Because if the Rogue King is coming for us, you’re either with my pack... or against it.”

For the first time, Aiden saw a flicker of fear in her eyes—not fear of him, but something far worse. She hesitated, then spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll help you. Not because I trust you. But because the Rogue King is worse than anything you can imagine.”

Aiden nodded, though his wolf snarled in protest. He turned to find Finn leaning casually against the doorframe, watching the exchange with quiet intensity.

“Cut her loose,” Aiden ordered. “She’s coming with us.”

Finn raised an eyebrow, his smirk returning briefly. “Sure thing, Alpha. Want me to grab a leash while I’m at it?”

Aiden shot him a warning glance, but Finn’s humor didn’t mask the gravity of the moment.

“If you run,” Aiden said quietly, his storm-gray eyes locking onto Zara’s, “I’ll find you. And when I do, there won’t be anywhere left to hide.”

Zara tilted her head, her smirk snapping back into place. “Fine. But if you want me to save your pack’s sorry ass, you’re going to have to trust me.”

Aiden didn’t respond. He turned and strode out of the cabin, the night air cool against his skin. As he looked up at the crescent moon hanging in the sky, its pale light felt dimmer, as though the shadow of the Rogue King’s mark still lingered. Whatever was coming, Aiden knew one thing for certain.

They would need each other to survive.