Ethan slammed his hands on my desk, making the papers scattered across it jump. His golden eyes practically blazed with frustration. "You know Dad gets back tomorrow, right? And you also know he's going to lose his damn mind when he finds out you're still chasing this?"
I tightened the strap on the knife around my boot, the leather creaking under my grip. The tension in the room mirrored the tension twisting through me. I didn't even look up. "I don't care."
"You should." His voice sharpened, cutting through the thick air. "Half the pack already thinks you're off the rails. Some still haven't forgiven you for banishing those idiots who challenged you. They think you've gone soft—too obsessed with a human to see what's happening around you."
My hands stilled. I buckled the strap a little too tight, the sting biting against my skin. That hit harder than I wanted to admit. My head snapped up, eyes flashing crimson as I locked onto Ethan.
"Soft?" I spat the word like venom. "Is that what they think? I beat them in a challenge, Ethan. I didn't just win—I destroyed them. If that's their idea of soft, I'd love to show them what ruthless looks like."
Ethan let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "You're not hearing me, Luca. They don't just think you're soft—they think you're dangerous. Too dangerous. Like Dad."
The words hit like a fist to the gut. My muscles locked, every inch of me going rigid. My jaw clenched, teeth grinding under the weight of that accusation.
"I'm nothing like him," I growled.
Ethan didn't even flinch. "You're starting to sound like him."
The air in the room thickened, pressing against my skin. I rose to my full height, the knife in my hand suddenly heavier. My voice dropped to a low, menacing growl. "Watch your mouth."
He didn't back down. "Someone has to say it. You've been searching for five years, Luca. Five. For a girl the pack doesn't even believe was your mate. They think she's a distraction—a curse. And you've made them train harder, fight harder, obey stricter rules because of it. Hell, you banished two wolves for challenging you, and now half the pack hates her, and she's not even here."
His words churned in my gut like a storm I couldn't control. I wanted to argue, to shut him up, but I couldn't ignore the ugly truth in what he was saying. The pack had followed me through hell, but cracks were forming—splintering loyalty, whispers of doubt.
And then there was Dad.
The bastard's shadow always loomed over me, a constant reminder of everything I swore I'd never become. Ruthless. Merciless. Cold.
And now he was coming back.
"Let him come," I said finally, my voice low and cold. "I'll deal with him like I always do."
Ethan sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "You say that, but we both know he's not going to let this slide. He'll want answers. And if you tell him you're still chasing a human girl, there will be hell to pay."
"I don't answer to him anymore," I snapped. "I'm the Alpha now. And if anyone doubts me—him included—they're welcome to challenge me."
Ethan muttered something under his breath, but I didn't bother listening.
"Are you coming or not?"
The moon was high, casting a cold silver light over the forest. Shadows danced between the trees as we moved through the undergrowth. Ethan stayed a step behind, thankfully keeping his mouth shut for once.
But his silence didn't calm me.
The caller's words echoed in my head like a dark chant, pulling me toward the ruins.
Go back to where it started. To the land of the curse.
I hadn't been there in years. That place was cursed ground, steeped in darkness so heavy it made your wolf whimper.
"What if it's a trap?" Ethan finally asked, his voice low.
"It probably is," I said without looking back.
"And you're still going?"
"Yes."
He muttered something I didn't catch, but I didn't care. My focus was razor-sharp, every sense tuned to the forest around us.
Then it came—the howl.
Low, guttural, and wrong. The kind of sound that made your blood run cold.
"Tell me you heard that," Ethan whispered.
I didn't answer, my ears straining to catch the sound again. When it came, it was closer.
"We're being watched," Ethan said, barely audible.
I nodded, my wolf bristling beneath my skin, ready for a fight.
We kept moving, the scent of decay thickening as the ruins came into view. The air itself felt wrong, heavy with something ancient and malevolent.
Then I saw it—the mark carved into the oak tree.
Jagged lines slashed deep into the bark, radiating darkness. The mark of the cursed.
Ethan stepped closer, his breath fogging in the icy air. "That's not good."
"No kidding," I muttered, hand instinctively going for my knife.
The howl came again, sharper, closer.
"We need to keep moving," I said, keeping my voice steady despite the dread twisting in my gut.
The ruins loomed ahead, jagged stone walls covered in moss and vines. The air stank of death, and the ground pulsed beneath my boots, alive with dark energy.
Then came the whisper.
"You shouldn't have come here, Alpha."
I spun, knife drawn, heart hammering against my ribs. But there was no one there.
"Luca," Ethan said, his voice shaking.
I followed his gaze—and froze.
At the edge of the ruins stood a figure cloaked in shadows. Its eyes glowed crimson, and its presence was suffocating.
The Echo.
It didn't move, didn't attack. It just watched, those glowing eyes boring into me as if it could see straight through to my soul.
And then, in a voice both chilling and painfully familiar, it spoke.
"She's closer than you think."