[POV: Hayden]
The morning sun cast long shadows across the war room as I stepped inside, Piper at my side. The Junior Warriors stood in a semi-circle, alert, eyes sharp with expectation.
Fresh marks, fresh pride, fresh energy—they were hungry to prove themselves, and I respected that.
But they were still new. Still green. And it was my job to make sure they didn’t mistake pride for invincibility.
“Let’s begin,” I said, voice cutting clean through the murmurs.
Piper stepped forward first, her arms crossed, gaze steady as stone. “From today forward, you carry real weight in this pack. You’re responsible for its borders, its safety, its people. That means full patrols, emergency readiness drills, and response duty during potential attacks. Sloppy gets people killed. We don’t allow sloppy.”
I watched their faces shift—some hardened, others paled slightly. Good. They needed to understand the gravity of what they were stepping into.
“You’ll also begin shadow coordination with Senior Warriors. And you’ll receive intel briefings weekly on the state of our alliances and enemies,” I stepped into.
I turned to the map on the wall, tapping key markers. “We have formal alliances with Stormhowl and Moonveil packs. If we’re attacked, they answer. But don’t get comfortable—proximity doesn’t guarantee protection. Shadowfang and Thornridge are still wild cards. If they test our borders, you hold the line until help arrives.”
As I turned, something hit me.
A scent.
Pine. Snowdrops. Faint but distinct. Crisp, clean, yet maddeningly warm beneath it all.
The recognition struck like lightning. I’d noticed it before—drifting in the air after she passed, clinging faintly to my training gear after she borrowed it during recovery—but I’d never let it affect me. Until now.
Until Sirius surged forward, teeth bared, ‘mine’ echoing like thunder in my skull.
My hands clenched behind my back.
Focus.
But it was too late. The scent clouded my mind, tangling with the memory of her—how she looked beneath the moonlight, how she’d trembled in my arms, how her soft breath had brushed my throat.
Across the room, Aria shifted awkwardly. She must’ve sensed something—sensed me. Her eyes flicked up for a second, cautious, unreadable, before dropping back down.
She didn’t speak. Neither did I.
I forced myself to breathe, cooling the fire that had ignited low in my chest.
“Now,” I said sharply, dragging the focus back to the task. “Let’s talk about leadership.”
Their attention snapped back.
“A strong unit needs a point of command,” I continued. “Today, one of you will be chosen.”
A murmur spread through the group, curious and excited.
“A little test. I’ll be hiding in the forest. Somewhere within the west training range,” I said. “You should already know it well from the trials and your patrol training. But this time, you’ll find me without tracking by scent or speed. You’ll need strategy. Observation. Stealth.”
Piper stepped forward again. “And you’ll have to do it without alerting me. I’ll be hunting you. If I catch you, you’re out.”
“You have one hour,” I finished. “Whoever finds me first—without getting caught—leads.”
And with that, I vanished into the trees.
Forty-two minutes in, crouched low near the old hollowed tree by the ravine, I heard the faintest whisper of breath behind me.
Noelle.
She stepped into view, sharp-eyed and grinning. “Found you.”
I gave her a single nod. “Well done.”
Not even thirty seconds later, Aria appeared, emerging from the brush silently, eyes narrowed in focused concentration—until they widened in surprise at the sight of Noelle already standing beside me.
Her lips parted, and for a brief second, disappointment flickered in her gaze. She quickly masked it, giving a nod instead.
“Second place,” she muttered.
“Not bad,” Noelle said, glancing at her. “You were right behind me.”
I stood up fully, brushing dirt from my hands. “The leadership position goes to Noelle. She earned it. But I’ll allow her to name a second-in-command if she sees fit.”
Noelle grinned. “Then it’s Aria. No hesitation.”
I raised a brow but didn’t argue. “So be it.”
* * *
The sun had just begun to dip beyond the treetops as we made our way back to the pack house. Noelle jogged ahead, eager to tell Emmett and Russell the news, leaving Aria and me trailing behind in awkward silence.
I didn’t look at her, didn’t speak. But I felt her.
Every step, every breath. Her scent wrapped around me like a slow, tightening noose. Then, her voice—soft and hesitant.
“Alpha Hayden.”
I flinched.
She cleared her throat. “I just… I wanted to say thank you. For what you did. The night before the final trial.”
I didn’t answer.
“You helped me,” she went on. “When I was falling apart. You stayed. You didn’t have to.”
Her voice grew a little lighter, a small smile weaving through the words.
“And then guiding me through the shift… I don’t know if I would’ve made it without you.”
I stopped walking. She stopped too, confusion flickering across her face. Her lips were slightly parted, a faint smile still hovering there.
Too soft. Too close. Too much.
I stared at her for a bit too long. At the way the light caught in her hair. The way her mark peeked just barely through the collar of her shirt. At the curve of her mouth as she said my name again.
And I snapped.
“You need to do something about your scent,” I bit out, voice harsh and low. “Your pheromones.”
She blinked. “What?”
“They’re disruptive,” I said coldly, stepping back. “Distracting. Handle it.”
Her expression froze.
“And until you do,” I continued, “don’t come near me.”
Silence. Thick. Crushing. Hurt.
I didn’t look at her again. I couldn’t.
Instead, I shifted—black fur ripping through skin, Sirius exploding forward—and bolted into the trees, needing space, needing air, needing distance.
But her scent clung to me still. And no matter how fast I ran, I couldn’t get it out of my lungs.