Silence stirred me awake.
I glanced across the room, at the bed where Ethan still slept, his chest rising and falling with the easy rhythm of a child on the brink of ten. Time slips through your fingers, doesn’t it? I still remember the day I found him.
- Five years ago -
“Just a few more steps, and we’re free,” I reminded my wolf, though we both knew it was a lie. Exhaustion gnawed at every muscle. Four days without food, and everything had shrunk to running, fighting, surviving.
“Maybe if you didn’t relieve them of their provisions and thin their ranks, they’d offer us a thank-you basket of stars and moon?” my wolf drawled, dry as dust.
I almost laughed, even as my body screamed for rest. “So what if I took them out? They wanted to sell me. I’m not a discounted item on a market stall!” I rolled my eyes, pushing forward despite the ache in my bones.
My gaze snagged on the border of the Blue Stone pack territory—no guards visible. Odd. I knew this territory, knew the Luna. I’d saved her life a few years back, and she’d offered me a place within her pack. I’d vanished before she could wake. Packs were cages for someone like me, and I had no intention of becoming a prisoner.
Growing up in the wilderness had forged me—cold, maybe, but strong. No one ever loved me, no one cared if I survived, no one ever fought for me. So I learned to fight for myself. It wasn’t long before every pack had me on their radar, not as a person, but as a prize. Some hunted me for the fame of killing me, others wanted to weaponize me, and the rest? They just wanted to sell me. What am I, an exclusive product at some back-alley auction? Ridiculous.
I remembered stalking that Luna that night, her life hanging by a thread. I could have let her bleed out, left her to the wolves—or worse. But I didn’t. She was pregnant. She looked more fragile than I did, like a gust of wind could shatter her. Still, I made sure she returned to her pack breathing. And what did I get for it? Rumors. Whispers about an Alpha searching for a girl—thirteen years old, forest green eyes, hazel brown hair.
“They wanted to thank you, you idiot,” Daeliah, my wolf, said, her voice sharp.
That was the last time I showed my face to anyone alive. I didn’t make that mistake again. After that, if someone saw my face, they didn’t live to tell about it. An unspoken rule, and the Luna was the only exception.
As I crossed into their territory, my wolf stirred, sensing something foul. “This doesn’t feel right,” she murmured, but I kept moving.
The sight ahead stopped me cold. Bodies lay scattered across the meadow, blood staining the grass a horrific red. Pack members, rogues—everyone dead. The beautiful pack houses burned, smoke billowing into the air.
I could have turned back, but my conscience wouldn’t allow it. The Luna… she reminded me of a mother I never had. I had to make sure she was safe.
I masked my scent and slipped toward the Alpha’s wing, avoiding detection. I didn’t have energy for more fights. Death had always been a close companion, and it was ironic how, at just fourteen, I had claimed so many lives. But this fight wasn’t mine. Not yet.
As I neared the house, the air thickened with foul scents—three distinct ones, none of them good. One was familiar: the rogues. Another belonged to the Blue Stone pack. But the third? It was rotten, the stench of decay making my wolf recoil in disgust.
Pushing through, I heard a scream. The Luna. I raced up the stairs, and there she was, surrounded by five rogues. Their eyes—completely white, vacant. The Luna lay battered, fading fast, and beside her… a boy. Her son.
“That’s the child,” my wolf said, her eyes locking onto him. She’d taken a liking to him. In a life filled with death and destruction, he and the Luna were the first we’d saved—even while still in her womb.
Her eyes met mine, then shifted to the boy. I understood her plea instantly. He was innocent, but wouldn’t be for long if those rogues had their way.
A growl tore from my throat, primal and furious. In a blur, my wolf took over. It was over in seconds. The rogues dropped like flies, their lifeless bodies sprawled around me. My eyes flickered from red back to green, and I felt the sting of new wounds across my body.
I extended my hand to the boy. His tiny fingers trembled as he took it. We walked toward his mother, her life slipping away.
“You’re late,” she whispered, managing a smile, as if she’d known I’d come. “Take him… please, protect him like you did for me.”
With her last breath, she handed him a pendant and a photograph. Confused, I stuffed them into my pocket and grabbed the boy. He fought me, clawing at my arm, his tiny fists punching in helpless fury. I dragged him away, knowing her last breath was coming and I didn't want a child to witness his mother's death.
The Alpha’s anguished howl echoed as we left. She was gone. Soon, he would be too.
- Present -
I slipped out of bed, leaving Ethan to his peaceful dreams. He still hates me for what happened five years ago. I can see it in his eyes, the resentment. If not for his mother’s last words, he’d have left me long ago.
Stepping outside, the cold morning air bit at my skin as I settled on the sofa, phone in hand. It was 5 a.m., and my inbox boasted 597 unread messages. I chuckled. Guess I’ve been slacking.
Did I mention my profession?
“I’m Night, the deadliest assassin alive.”
I kill on demand. It’s what I’m best at—taking lives. People pay, and I deliver. It’s not noble, but it keeps Ethan fed and in school. Plus, I’m good at it. Survival in this world isn’t free, and I’ve been fighting for mine since birth.
A few months ago, things nearly spiraled out of control. The Alpha King of the wolves almost tracked me down. I killed his royal guards before they could touch Ethan or me, but I was left with injuries that nearly killed me. I don’t kill pack wolves unless they attack me first. But this time, I had no choice.
“Nothing is worth someone’s life,” my wolf murmured.
“I know. But we need to survive,” I replied.
“There are other ways,” she insisted.
“They’ll come for us eventually. I have to be ready to fight.”
She fell silent, and I continued scrolling. As I scrolled through the emails, one subject line caught my eye: "$50 million." The target? None other than the almighty Alpha King himself, Alexander Valencia Anderson.
I grinned. This was going to be interesting.