Chapter 3 The Wolf In The Alley

The rain hadn’t stopped all night. It hammered against the roof of Luna’s Den like it was trying to get in, drowning the neon glow outside until the whole street looked like a half-forgotten painting.

Aiden stepped into the downpour without hesitation, head tilted slightly as if he could hear something beyond the storm.

Lila followed him, though he’d told her not to. Of course she did. It was her club, her ground, her mess. She moved quietly, hugging the wall, her boots splashing through puddles.

The smell of wet metal and asphalt mixed with the faint burn of whiskey still clinging to her skin. Every instinct told her to stay inside, lock the doors, forget the man with silver eyes and the shadow that followed him.

But she wasn’t the type to stay safe. Not anymore.

She could hear his steps ahead, slow, deliberate, tracking something.

Aiden stopped near the alley, crouching to inspect the wall. The faint light from the streetlamp caught the edges of fresh claw marks deep, perfect lines gouged into the brick.

“Same pattern as before,” he said without looking back. His voice was calm, but there was something coiled beneath it. “Whoever this is, they’re sending a message.”

Lila’s voice came out lower than she meant. “To you or to me?”

He straightened, finally meeting her eyes. “Does it matter?”

Lightning flashes, cutting the sky open. For a split second, she saw a figure perched on the fence at the far end of the alley lean, wrong, too still to be human. Then it was gone.

Aiden’s gaze followed hers instantly. “You saw it too.”

He took a step forward, every movement measured. She could feel the shift in the air around him, that strange hum that came from wolves who were used to command. She stayed close enough to feel it ripple through her chest.

A growl rolled out from the dark. Not loud, not human not quite wolf either. The kind that prickles the skin and warns something ancient still hunts in this world.

Aiden stilled. “Stay behind me.”

Lila didn’t move. “You think I’m letting you fight alone?” Man don't piss me right now, her upper lips raised up like she was about to laugh

For a heartbeat, he looked like he might argue. Then the shadows moved.

Something lunged out of the dark, all claws, fur and teeth. Aiden caught it mid-air with brutal precision and slammed it against the wall. The impact cracked brick. The creature snarled, a rogue wolf, but wrong somehow. Its eyes burned red instead of gold, and its skin shimmered faintly like something had been done to it.

Lila grabbed a metal rod from a trash pile and swung hard. The hit connected with its shoulder, sending a wet thud through the rain. The creature twisted away, blood hissing as it hit the ground, then vanished back into the storm before either of them could strike again.

The alley fell silent.

Thunder rolled across the city like a warning.

Aiden’s breathing slowed, his stance still ready to strike. “That wasn’t just a rogue,” he said.

Lila’s pulse was still wild. She wiped her palm against her jeans, smearing dark blood. “Then what was it?”

He crouched beside a puddle where the thing’s blood had dripped. It was thick, nearly black, and when he touched it with his fingertip, it hissed against his skin like acid. He didn’t even flinch.

“Poison,” he murmured. “Altered blood. They’ve been experimenting with something again.”

Lila’s stomach dropped. Wha do you mean again? "You think my old pack’s behind that?”

He looked up at her, eyes silver in the flickering light. “You said they found you. They wouldn’t risk exposure unless they had a reason.”

“Then it’s not me they want.” Her voice was quiet, almost to herself. “It’s something else.”

“Or someone,” Aiden said, standing slowly.

The wind shifted, cutting cold through her wet clothes. She turned toward the faint glow of her club through the rain. The building suddenly looked fragile, smaller than it had ever felt before.

The place that had once felt safe now felt like a cage with no walls.

She took a shaky breath. “Why are you helping me?”

He didn’t answer right away. The rain pooled around his boots, streaming off his coat like it didn’t dare touch him. His jaw flexed once. “Because something about you doesn’t add up.”

Her chest tightened. “That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only one I’ve got,” he said, voice low, almost weary.

There was something in the way he said it not pity, not curiosity. Recognition, maybe. Like he’d been standing in the same kind of storm once.

When they got back to the club, Rye was pacing behind the bar, soaked to the elbows. “You both look like you went ten rounds with a garbage disposal,” he said. “Please tell me that thing isn’t still out there.”

“It’s gone,” Lila said, though her voice didn’t sound sure.

Rye groaned. “Gone like dead or gone like horror movie ‘we’ll see it again after the commercial break’?”

“Gone for now,” she said.

Aiden ignored him and crossed to the shattered window. Rain hissed through the cracks, dripping down the wood. He stared out into the storm with that unreadable stillness again.

“They’ll come back,” he said finally.

Lila leaned against the bar, every muscle aching. “Then we’ll be ready.”

He turned toward her, eyes searching her face. “You talk like a fighter.”

“I talk like someone who’s done running.”

For the first time since she’d met him, something softened in his expression. Not warmth exactly just a small flicker of understanding that didn’t need words.

The lights flickered once. Then again.

Rye frowned. “That’s weird. Power shouldn’t be back yet. Half the block’s still dark.”

Before Lila could move, the old radio behind the bar crackled. The static was sharp, almost electric. Then came a voice low, broken, like someone whispering through water.

“Luna’s Den isn’t safe anymore.”

The glass above the bar exploded.

Lila ducked instinctively as shards rained down, glittering in the neon light. Aiden pulled her down behind the counter, shielding her with his arm. Rye cursed, grabbing a bottle like it might help.

When the noise finally stopped, the air smelled like metal and ozone.

Lila slowly raised her head.

A knife was lodged deep in the wooden post by the opposite wall, silver catching the faint light. A thin chain dangled from its hilt and at the end of it, a ring.

Her heart lurched. She knew that ring. The simple black band with the etched crescent. The one Damon had worn the night he rejected her.

Her hand trembled as she reached for it.

Aiden caught her wrist before she could touch the blade. “Don’t,” he said softly. His voice didn’t rise, but it carried something sharp enough to stop her cold.

Lila met his eyes. “Why would they send that?”

He didn’t answer, not out loud. But she saw the thought cross his face, the same one twisting in her gut.

Someone wasn’t warning her.

They were calling her back.

And whatever waited beyond Mystic Drops wasn’t just watching anymore. It had already found a way in.