The bell above the door jingled, and Mira's hand froze on the stack of paperbacks. A young couple stepped in out of the rain, laughing, shaking water from their coats. The bond marks on their wrists glowed a soft gold. Mira looked down at the books and kept shelving. "Do you have anything on coastal hiking?" the girl asked. "Back wall, second shelf," Mira said. She didn't look up again. Looking made it worse. The glow, the way the boy's thumb brushed the girl's wrist without him even noticing. Mira had died once without ever having that. She had no plans to try again. On the small TV behind the counter, a news anchor smiled into the camera. "The Mate-Bond Empire reminds all citizens that unregistered bonds are punishable by law. Bond Enforcers will continue their sweeps in the eastern districts this week." The couple left with a book and a goodbye. The door clicked shut. Mira exhaled. Twenty-three years in this body. Twenty-three years of remembering the last one. The cage, the silver chains, the crowd cheering as the blade came down. She had been a Silverwolf then, and she was the last one now. The only blood in the world that could cut a mate bond clean in half. Every Alpha on the continent would pay everything they owned to drain her. "Hey, bookstore girl." A man leaned on the counter, grinning. He'd been in three times this week, and he never bought anything. He smelled like cheap cologne and Beta wolf. "You ever take a night off?" he asked. "I'll buy you dinner." "No." "You didn't even think about it." "I thought about it for a full second." Mira slid his receipt pad aside. "The answer didn't change." He laughed. "Come on. What's the worst that could happen?" She finally looked at him. Just for a moment, she let her eyes hold his, flat and cold. "You'd be surprised. I'm not good for your health." His smile faded. He took a step back and rubbed his wrist, like it had started to itch. "Right. Weird girl. Okay." The bell jingled again as he left. Mira locked the door behind him and flipped the sign to CLOSED. She turned off the front lights one by one and let the dusty shop settle into shadow. Rain tapped on the windows. Somewhere down the street, a siren rose and faded. She grabbed her coat from the hook. Her hand stopped on the sleeve. The air had changed. It wasn't a sound. It was weight, the kind that pressed on her chest like a hand. An Alpha. A strong one. Close. She hadn't heard the door. She hadn't heard the bell. She turned slowly. A man stood between the shelves, tall, broad, with silver streaks running through his dark hair. His coat was soaked through. His grey eyes were fixed on her, and they didn't blink. "The shop is closed," Mira said. Her voice came out steady. Her heart did not. "I know." His voice was low and rough. "I waited until the customers left." "Then you know it's closed." "I'm not here for a book." He took one step forward, and the floorboards creaked under him. Mira's hand slid toward the letter opener on the counter. He noticed. He didn't stop. "I'm looking for something rare." "Try the antiques store on Fifth." "I'm looking for a Silverwolf." The room went silent. The rain, the siren, even her own breathing seemed to stop. Mira's fingers closed around the letter opener. Eight steps to the back door. Maybe nine. She had counted them a hundred times, every night, for years. "I don't know what that is," she said. "You do." He raised both hands, slowly, palms open. "And before you run, look at my wrist." She didn't want to. She did anyway. His sleeve had slipped back. There was a bond mark there, but it wasn't glowing gold. It was black, cracked down the middle, like burnt glass. "Someone forced this on me," he said quietly. "And you are the only person alive who can take it off." Mira's grip tightened on the letter opener. Behind him, through the front window, headlights turned onto the street. Black cars. Three of them. Moving slowly. Bond Enforcers. The man glanced over his shoulder, then back at her. "They followed me here," he said. "I'm sorry. We have about two minutes."

Mira ran for the back door. She made it four steps before a hand caught her coat and yanked her behind the poetry shelf. A palm covered her mouth. The letter opener was already at his throat. "Quiet," the man breathed. "Please." Through the front window, the black cars stopped. Doors opened. Boots hit the wet pavement. Mira pressed the blade harder against his skin. A thin line of red showed. He didn't move. Outside, a flashlight swept across the glass. It passed over the CLOSED sign, over the dark shelves, over the empty counter. Someone tried the handle. The lock held. "Nothing," a voice said. "Lights are off." "He came this way," said another. "Check the alley." Footsteps moved away. Engines idled for what felt like an hour. Then the cars rolled on, one by one, and the street went quiet. The man lowered his hand slowly. Mira shoved him back and held the letter opener in front of her with both hands. "Who are you?" "Alpha Kaelen, of the Northern Pack." He touched his throat and looked at the blood on his fingers. "You're faster than I expected." "You brought Enforcers to my door." "I didn't bring them. I lost them twice before I got here. They're good." He wiped his hand on his coat. "Your lock is terrible, by the way." "Get out of my shop." "They'll come back. They always circle back." Mira's pulse hammered. "So you've found the last monster. Congratulations. Do you want to drain me here, or drag me to your pack for a public execution?" "I'm not here to kill you." "That's what the last one said." Kaelen's jaw tightened. "I came to offer you a job. One that needs your unique talents." "My talents?" She laughed, short and sharp. "I'm good at hiding. I'm good at surviving. That's the whole list." "You can unmake a mate bond." He said it flatly, like a fact. "You know it. I know it. The Empire knows it, which is why they burned every record of your kind. But I found one." He reached slowly into his coat. Mira lifted the blade again. "It's paper. Just paper." He pulled out a folded file and set it on the counter between them. Then he stepped back, hands raised. Mira didn't touch it. "What is that?" "Open it." She flipped the cover with the tip of the letter opener. Photos spilled across the wood. Men in expensive suits. Women beside them, pale, thin, staring at nothing. Each woman wore the same gold mark on her wrist, and each mark looked wrong. Too bright. Too sharp. "Those are Alphas and their claimed mates," Kaelen said. "Every one of those women was taken by force. The marks aren't real bonds. They're copies. Someone figured out how to fake the ritual, and now the Empire uses it to control any pack that gets too strong." Mira stared at the photos. Her stomach turned. "That's not possible. A bond has to be chosen. The moon decides." "The moon doesn't decide anymore." She looked up. His eyes were tired. Not angry, just tired, like a man who had been saying this to deaf ears for years. "My pack is dying," he said. "Half my wolves are tied to people who don't love them, and the fake bonds are eating them from the inside. My sister is one of them. She's been getting weaker for two years." "I'm sorry." "I don't want sorry." He pointed at the photos. "I want you." Mira stepped back. "No." "You can break them." "I can also die doing it. I've done it before." The words slipped out before she could stop them. Kaelen's head lifted, sharp. She cursed herself. "I mean, I've heard that's how it works." "You remember," he said quietly. "Your past life. You remember it." Her blood went cold. "Don't," she whispered. "I won't tell anyone. I'm not the Empire." He took a slow breath. "But I need you to understand something. You aren't just a weapon, Mira." "How do you know my name?" "It's on the sign outside." She said nothing. Heat crawled up her neck. "You can be a sword, or you can be a hunted animal," he said. "Right now you're hiding in a bookstore, waiting for them to find you. And they will. Tonight proved that. I wasn't the only one who tracked you here." "What do you mean?" Kaelen tapped the last photo in the file, the one at the very bottom. It showed this exact street, taken from a car, with the bookstore sign circled in red ink. "That was taken three days ago," he said. "It was in an Enforcer's briefcase. I stole it." Mira's knees nearly gave out. "The Empire already knows where you are. They're just waiting for permission to move." He met her eyes. "Help me, and I'll hide you where they'll never look. I'll give you the one thing you've never had." "And what's that?" "A home."

The car hit a pothole, and Mira's head knocked against the window. "Hold on," Kaelen said. He took the corner so hard the tires screamed. Mira gripped the seat. Behind them, two black cars filled the rear window, headlights blazing through the rain. She had grabbed her coat and nothing else. Eleven years of hiding, and she'd left it all behind in under two minutes. "You said you lost them," she snapped. "I said I lost them twice. This is the third time." "That's not funny." "I'm not laughing." He swerved around a delivery truck. "Get down." A crack split the air. The back windshield spiderwebbed. Mira ducked below the dashboard, heart slamming. "They're shooting at us!" "They're shooting at the tires. They want you alive." He said it so calmly that her stomach dropped. "Dead, you're useless to them." The radio on the dashboard crackled. A woman's voice came through, smooth and amused. "Kaelen. Pull over." His knuckles went white on the wheel. "Lyra." "You're a fool, you know that? I always said so." The voice sounded close, like she was sitting in the back seat. "Hand over the girl, and I'll let your pack live. The Emperor wants her blood. He doesn't care about yours." "Tell the Emperor I'm not impressed." "He's not asking for your opinion." A pause. "Hello, Mira." Mira's breath stopped. "Yes, I know your name. I know about the bookstore, too. Lovely place. Dusty." Lyra laughed softly. "You can't hide from us, little wolf. We've been watching you for three years." Three years. Mira's fingers dug into the seat. Three years of being watched, and she'd never felt it. Kaelen reached over and switched off the radio. The silence rang in her ears. "She's lying," he said. "To rattle you." "Is she?" "I don't know." That was the first honest answer he had given her. It was worse than a lie. Mira stared at the blood drying on his sleeve. A shot had grazed his shoulder two turns back, and he hadn't said a word about it. "This is what happens," she said quietly. "People get hurt around me. They die. My last life taught me that, and I don't need to learn it twice." "You think this is your fault?" "Isn't it?" "No." He glanced at her. "This is Viktor's fault. This is the Empire's fault. You're just the one they can't stand to leave alive." She wanted to argue. She didn't have the words. Another crack. The car lurched. Kaelen cursed and wrenched the wheel left, and they shot down a narrow service road between two warehouses. The Enforcers' headlights swung past the entrance and vanished. For a full minute, neither of them spoke. "They'll double back," Kaelen said. "How far to your pack?" "Ten minutes. If we're lucky." "And if we're not?" He didn't answer. His hand slid off the gearshift and pressed against his ribs. When he pulled it away, his palm was red. "You're bleeding," Mira said. "It's fine." "That's not fine. That's a lot of blood." "My people are already dying, Mira." He grabbed her wrist before she could pull away. His cracked bond mark burned against her skin, hot as a coal. She gasped and tried to jerk free, but he held on. "Your blood is the only cure we have. I'm not asking you to like me. I'm asking you to choose. Save them, or run. Which is it?" His mark glowed black and red against her pulse. It didn't just burn. It pulled, like it recognized her. "Let go," she whispered. He did. The burning stopped at once. Mira rubbed her wrist. Her skin was warm where he had touched it, and her heartbeat took a long time to slow. The road ended at a rusted gate in the middle of a dead forest. Kaelen drove through without slowing, and the gate swung open on its own. Tunnels yawned ahead, lit by a few yellow bulbs. He parked and stepped out. His legs buckled before he reached the door. "Kaelen!" Mira scrambled out and caught his arm. He was heavier than he looked, and his skin was ice cold. His eyes rolled back. A door banged open somewhere in the dark. Footsteps pounded toward them. A woman burst into the light, her dark braid whipping behind her. She saw Kaelen on the ground. She saw Mira kneeling over him. Then she saw Mira's eyes. The woman drew a silver blade from her belt and aimed it at Mira's throat. "Kaelen," she said, her voice shaking with fury. "What have you brought to our door?"