A howl broke the midnight stillness.
Sharp. Deep. Wrong.
Aiden's eyes snapped open, body stiffening. The air had changed — the calm of earlier shattered by a sound that didn't belong. Wild, raw, unfamiliar.
Theron's arms were around him.
One hand on Aiden's back, the other firm around his waist, holding him close. Protective. Possessive.
"Theron?" Aiden whispered, voice hoarse from sleep and the lingering edges of heat. His throat felt dry, his heart already racing.
The Alpha King's eyes opened instantly, sharp silver in the moonlight. Alert.
He didn't ask what woke him. He didn't need to.
"I heard it," he murmured, his voice low and dangerous, already shifting into a growl as he sat up with Aiden still pressed to him. "That's not one of ours."
Aiden sat up too, the residual warmth of Theron's body now gone cold under the creeping tension that coiled between them. His mind was still cloudy, heat not fully faded, instincts flickering unpredictably under his skin.
But even with his body aching and exhausted, fear cleared everything.
"That howl…" Aiden said slowly, "it was close. Too close."
Theron was already on his feet, shedding his sleep-clothes in one practiced motion. His body shimmered as the shift took hold — white fur replacing skin in a blink, massive paws landing silently on the ground. He was a blur of dominance and power.
"Stay here," the white wolf rumbled through the bond.
But Aiden's jaw clenched. "I'm not helpless."
"You're still vulnerable," Theron shot back mentally, eyes flashing. "You're still in heat, Aiden. You can't scent right, and any rogue will smell you before you smell them."
The truth hit like a stone.
Theron turned to go, but Aiden grabbed a blanket and threw it around his shoulders, rising anyway.
"I'm not going to just sit here. What if it's heading toward the den? Toward the pack?"
Theron hesitated.
Not because he doubted Aiden's strength — but because the Alpha in him was warring with every instinct to shield and protect, not expose.
Then another howl rose.
Closer this time. Lower. Challenge in its echo.
Theron's fur bristled.
"I'll stay close," Aiden promised, clutching the blanket tighter. "I swear."
The Alpha King didn't argue. He only nodded once, sharp and fast, before turning and vanishing into the trees.
Aiden followed at a distance, senses sharpening despite the dizzy throb still in his bones. The trees flew past in a blur of shadow and moonlight. He kept low, quick — silent as he could be — until Theron stopped suddenly in the underbrush ahead.
Then Aiden saw it.
A wolf. A stranger.
Larger than most of the betas, with scarred grey fur and yellow eyes that glinted with hunger.
It wasn't alone. Another shape emerged behind it. Then a third. Rogues. Trespassing.
And one of them turned, nostrils flaring, locking its gaze on Aiden.
He froze.
Then the rogue snarled, stepping forward—
Only for Theron to lunge, a white blur crashing through the clearing with bone-snapping force.
Blood sprayed. Snarls echoed. And the fight began.
Aiden backed away slowly, instincts screaming. But the yellow-eyed rogue didn't care about Theron. It wanted him.
The rogue lunged — teeth bared, eyes gleaming with feral hunger.
But Aiden didn't run.
He reacted like instinct had been carved into his bones. Years of living as a beta, trained alongside warriors, taught to fight even without an Alpha's strength — they all surged to the surface.
He lunged back.
Their bodies collided with a thud, his shoulder ramming into the rogue's chest. Claws slashed at his side, tearing through the blanket and grazing skin, but Aiden didn't stop. He ducked under the next bite and slammed his elbow into the rogue's jaw, forcing its head sideways with a crack.
The rogue snarled.
Aiden bared his teeth.
They circled. Two wolves in human form — one starving and crazed, the other furious and burning with instincts he didn't yet understand. He could feel it again: that strange pull in his core, the heat still simmering low in his belly, twisting everything into sharpness.
The rogue lunged again, jaws wide— And Aiden moved faster.
He pivoted, using the rogue's momentum against it, slamming it to the ground and driving his knee into its side. He reached for the rogue's throat with fingers turned to claws, ready to end it—
A sharp whistle cut the air.
Everything stopped.
The rogue beneath him froze, body tensing. Its ears perked. A strange sound — low and commanding — echoed from deep within the woods.
Two more whistles followed.
The other two rogues, who had been circling the edges of the fight, stopped instantly. One gave a short growl — almost frustrated — before they both turned and bolted into the trees.
The one beneath Aiden squirmed free in the distraction and scrambled after them, disappearing into the darkness.
Aiden started to give chase — rage rising with the after-burn of adrenaline — but Theron was already ahead of him. The Alpha King leapt, shifted mid-air, and tore after the fleeing rogues like a white flame in the shadows.
Aiden stood there, panting, body aching.
His side was bleeding. His chest burned. His instincts screamed.
Then—
Crashing through the trees came the rest of the pack.
Ronan arrived first, flanked by two other betas, all of them mid-shift and bristling. "Aiden!" Ronan yelled, eyes wide. "What the hell happened?! Are you okay?"
Aiden didn't answer immediately. He was still staring into the woods, where Theron had vanished. He could feel the pull of the bond again, alive and tight like a tether. But what disturbed him most wasn't the fight…
It was the whistle.
Those rogues hadn't retreated out of fear. They'd been called back. Planned. Organized.
This wasn't just a random attack. This was a message. And whoever sent it… knew exactly where Aiden was.