Chapter 5: Blood on the Ground

A figure detached from the wall—Milo, his chipped tooth glinting as he grinned. “Knew you’d show,” he whispered, beckoning Evan closer. “Listen fast. I’ve been stirring the betas, planting doubts about Selene. She’s got too much pull, and not everyone’s happy about it.”

Evan frowned, the bone shard a cold comfort in his boot. “Why risk it? What’s this got to do with me?

Milo's smile slipped, his expression drawn into tight lines. "You're the spark, Evan. The mate of the alphas, scent or not—it's rocking everything to its foundation. I can get you out, but you must go now." He gazed out into the darkness. "The Claws have discovered you. They're following blood, and you're the trophy.

Evan's gut sank, the mate bond shutting over him like a sword. The Claws, Selene, the alphas—all required a portion of him. He wrapped an arm around Milo's, speaking softly. "How much longer before you can take me out?"

Milo's mouth fell open in a command, but a howl trembled through the blackness, high and near. His eyes widened. "Shit. Get out—go to your room. Now."

Evan fled, pounding heart, the blackness of the compound closing around him as he went. The howl was answered by others, a chorus of hunger and threat. He did not glance back.

Morning dawned over the compound, covering the training yard in gold and ash. Evan's boots sank into the turned earth as Zane dragged him out of the main house, the alpha's grip bruising but not cruel. The yard was alive with activity—wolves sparring with wooden staffs, claws glinting in mock battle, their grunts and laughter cutting through the cold air. Zane pushed Evan toward an open area, throwing him a blunt training blade. "Time to get hard, princess," he said, his golden eyes flashing with challenge. "Put your money where your mouth is."

Evan caught the blade, its weight awkward in his hands. “I’m not your damn puppet,” he muttered, but his pulse quickened, the mate bond humming like a live wire. He hated it—hated Zane’s smirk, hated the pull that made his skin itch when the alpha stepped close. He gripped the blade tighter, stance wide, ready to prove he wasn’t weak.

Zane lunged, fast and brutal, his own blade a blur. Evan dodged, clumsy but swift, training yard a blur of color around him as he ducked and sidestepped. Wolves slowed to watch, teeth scraping his throat. Zane's fists were vicious, slamming Evan back, but anger fueled him. He swung wildly, the blade cutting into Zane's bicep. The alpha did not blink, then smiled, half pride, half hunger. "Not bad, mate," he growled, low rumble, in close enough that his breath swept over Evan. His scent—cedar and smoke—bombed Evan's senses, and the bond spat to life, hot and unstable.

Evan shoved him away, gagging. "Don't say that." The words hung in the air, but his body betrayed him, fire curling in his belly. Zane's grin grew, like he got it.

“Enough.” Leo’s voice cut through, calm but commanding. He stepped into the yard, his dark coat stark against the dawn light, silver eyes fixed on Evan. “You’re wasting energy. He needs skills, not bruises.” Zane snorted but backed off, tossing his blade to a nearby wolf. Leo gestured Evan to a quieter corner, where crates and barrels formed a makeshift barrier. “Pack signals,” he said, voice clinical. “You’ll learn them. Now.”

Evan lagged behind, wary but curious, the piece of bone still hidden in his boot from last night's encounter with Milo. Leo demonstrated mysterious howls—staccato yips and brevity for warning, drawn-out keening wails for withdrawal—and body language, crisp snaps of fingers and wrists. His hands were light but insistent, making infinitesimal adjustments to Evan's arm, lingering on a fraction too long. Evan's flesh crawled, the tie inside him shivering once more, this time cold and glacial, like Leo's eyes. "Look," Leo ordered, catching Evan's blink, but there was a flash of something other behind, a fissure in his icicle facade.

"Good," Evan said, moving back, disturbed. Leo's precision irked him more than Zane's fire, as some hunting animal tracks its quarry. The bond was a noose tightening with each contact, and Evan detested what it did to him—wanted, ensnared, living.

The session was halted by a cry ripped through the compound, raw and urgent. Zane sat up on his elbows, his smile erased. "Perimeter breach," he growled, already in a haze. Leo yanked out a knife from his belt and waved it over his shoulder in the direction of Evan. "Get behind me," he commanded him, voice snapping. Wolves flowed into the yard, transforming mid-step, fur bursting out as they hurtled toward the periphery of the woods. Evan ran, his pulse slamming, the lump of bone jamming into his ankle.

The woods were chaos—trees crashing, yips echoing, the stench of blood hanging in the air. The Claw pack had ambushed them, their wolves lean and merciless, yellow eyes blazing with fury. Evan dodged behind a pine, dodging a snapping jaw, his training sword no match for claws. Zane fought like a berserker, all muscle and fury, bringing down two Claws with a yell, blood soaking into his leather jacket. Leo was out of sight, his sword flashing in straight lines, killing a wolf leaping for Evan's back. "Move!" Leo yelled, pulling Evan behind a boulder as claws ripped where he'd been standing seconds before. Evan's lungs filled and then emptied, adrenaline and fear coursing through him. A Claw wolf burst through, yellow eyes on him, teeth shining. "Scentless runt," it snarled, its voice half-beast, half-man. Instinct took hold—Evan tore the sliver of bone from his boot, slashing. The sliver dug deep, blood bursting as the wolf howled and leapt up. Evan was on his feet, staring at the red on his hands, his omega side crying out in agony, blazing out of control.

The bond flared, linking him to Zane's triumphant laugh and Leo's sharp nod.

"That's my friend!" Zane shouted, battered but grinning, as he kicked another Claw out of the way. Evan winced, the name one he wished he could shed. The pack was left, wolves motionless amidst battle, paralyzed by his ferocity. Even Leo's gaze faltered, a mix of awe and craving that made shivers run down Evan's arms.

The Claws fell back, their screams echoing deep into the woods, their bodies and broken limbs behind them. The pack reformed, gasping, some shifting back to human, others tending wounds. Zane grabbed Evan's shoulder, hard, his hold snapping the bond into place. "Knew you had it in you," he growled, his voice harsh with pride. Evan stepped back, wiping the bloody splinter on his pants, his belly cramping. He was not theirs, no matter what his body screamed. Leo came over to him, cleaning his knife with a rag. "You're harder than you think," he said to him, low voice, but still with the same nutty hunger in his eyes. Evan didn't answer, making a move to help pull a wounded wolf to safety, anything to escape their eyes.

Between the branches of a splintered oak, Milo saw him, his chipped tooth glinting as he pushed a clump of cloth into Evan's hand.

"For your cuts," he gestured toward the slashes on Evan's arms. They sat beneath the giant tree looming over them as the pack cleaned up. Milo moved fast, taping the wounds, fingers racing but eyes darting from side to side. "You kept up better out there," he growled, voice rough. "That cut's a nice touch." Evan grimaced, winced as Milo pulled the cloth tight. "Dumb luck. What brings you here?"