Rayne.

With blood pumping through hollowed ears, and teeth grinding through a hastily breathing mouth, another punch was thrown towards what Rayne Vance hoped to be cartilage, but the breeze of nothingness drifted over her knuckles instead. A jaw-clenching smirk ignited a spark of rage from deep within the swell of her aching chest. She swung her leg over in a kick, hoping to catch her opponent off guard.

Rayne. Rayne!

A piercing, hazel-eyed gaze teased her, his body twirling away in a dance that was fluid enough to hypnotize an unsuspecting rival. Ronan's signature move. She followed the movement the whole way through and pivoted her hip so she could keep a sharp eye on the grinning, self-entitled asshole pushing her to her full potential. Had she been in the mood for joking, she would have asked her brother, Ezra, to spar with her rather than him.

Rayne, I know you can hear me.

Rayne's fist skimmed the corner of her best friend's jaw. Ronan's chuckle snapped her teeth together in a wild growl as she reached for the knife attached to the band of her pants, fed up with playing whatever game that was to him.

"That's cheating, Raynie," he cooed, his soft words brushing the curls of her ear. Rayne threw her shoulder back and listened for the satisfying grunt of discomfort that came after the crack of his nose. She wasted no time in spinning around and jamming the tip of her blade into his side. Not deep enough to wound, but enough to draw a little blood and bring back her own satisfaction.

"Sorry, Ronie," she mocked. "Never said I fight fair."

Ronan's lips twisted into the beginnings of a snarl, determination flashing behind the molten gold now overtaking his irises. Rayne bit her tongue to prevent the grin itching at the corner of her mouth from spreading and swung her body to the side. She kicked her leg out expertly and knocked him to the ground a few feet from her, triumph gloating throughout her body at the sickly sound of flesh leaving steel.

"RAYNE!"

"For fuck's sake, Amira," Rayne growled out. She glared over at the Gamma's daughter with accusation. "Can't you see I'm in the middle of training?"

Amira's hickory eyes were larger than usual. An energy Rayne hadn't noticed before vibrated throughout every part of Amira's body. From her exhilarated grin to her shifting feet that refused to stay still. Something about the way the trees were swaying viciously behind her even seemed a little . . . off?

"What's going on?" Rayne questioned, her senses kicking in. Ronan was now at her side again, healed up and in Beta mode. They'd been so busy practicing their fighting techniques, they didn't notice anything being amiss.

Ronan tilted his head to the side, listening intently with his gaze narrowed and his tawny hair brushing over his face from the strange breeze. It didn't take long for his eyebrows to furrow. "What is that?"

"That's what I've been trying to tell Rayne! We have a new pack member," Amira said, smiling wide.

"A new pack member?" Rayne asked, bewildered. "Did Mara have her baby? Is that what you interrupted our training for?"

"Pfft—it's not a baby. Now come on before your dad puts him away!"

That stopped Rayne in her tracks.

Why would her father put a new pack member away? And where?

Frowning deeper to herself, she followed Amira through the forest, with Ronan close to her side. The closer they got to the edge of the clearing, the more commotion and buzz they heard. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up and a forced whine vibrated her throat uneasily. A comforting hand wrapped around her shoulder for support.

"It's probably someone from a neighborhood pack," Ronan said. "You know, Alpha Vance wants as many people for Tʋnʋp as possible."

Rayne swallowed back bile at the thought. Tʋnʋp. War.

"Dad must think whoever this person is can help us defeat Ambrosius," Rayne murmured. At that point, it would take a miracle for Moonshine and any other pack to defeat the ancient vampire lord. So, whoever her father brought into the pack must be worth keeping.

Amira shivered. "I'd rather you not say his name, thanks."

"Scared, Mira?" Ronan mocked.

"Shut it, Ronan. Or I'll break that pretty face of yours."

"Aw—you think it's pretty?"

Before Rayne could turn around and tell the both of them to shut up, she caught sight of the large gathering of her pack surrounding something she couldn't make out. It didn't take long for Amira and Ronan to catch on and flank both of her sides in a protective shield, just in case something was to happen. Though she hated how seriously they took their roles of being Beta and Gamma already before their parents stepped down, she didn't have time to voice her annoyance. Besides, it was helpful in pushing pack members out of the way.

Gazing through the throng of people, she caught onto a head of wild curls the same umber shade as her own. "Ezra!"

The head turned and her gaze clashed with eyes that had her exact shade of cinnamon, freckled with specs of gold. He stood towards the front of the crowd at their father's tall height and waved her over with an ebony hand. Though he was a year younger than her, he towered over her in height. She thought being five-foot-seven was perfect; but in times like those, when she was surrounded by groups of large people, she wished she were much taller.

Ezra's fingers found Rayne's wrist after she reached out and he pulled her towards him. The cheering of the rowdy pack disoriented her for a moment, and she wobbled against Ronan, who helped steady her.

"Chim achukma?" Ezra asked, plucking a shard of grass from her shoulder. He wanted to know if she was okay, but she didn't know how to answer that honestly.

"Yeah, I'm good. What's going on?"

"You'll see soon enough," he murmured, gesturing over to the reason behind all the pack jitters. She followed his line of sight, her curiosity at its peak now. Something in her stomach dropped and she was suddenly staggering backwards.

It took a lot to surprise a woman training to take over for alpha. She had to be unsuspecting, pessimistic when the time permitted it, and always stay on guard in case the worst happened. She trained physically and mentally for it five days a week because she had to prove how ready she was to her father when he deemed her fit enough to take over his position. Rayne had to be controlled, focused. If she focused hard enough, she'd rarely be surprised. Therefore, an attentive alpha.

For the most part, Rayne lived by those rules. She trained her body, learned to control her mind when she needed to concentrate, and mastered the art of suspecting almost everything.

But no amount of training could have ever prepared her for the half-bare man with alabaster wings being dragged forward by her father. Much to her shock, he was bound in chains of iron that burned bloody bruises into his wrists and ankles, his beautiful, intricate wings beating weakly like thin glass. Swirls of liquid gold wrapped like a serpent around his upper right arm in tribal designs and shimmering glitter coasts underneath the mossy strap crossing over his well-defined chest. What further pushed her surprise was the loathing settling in the fog of his misting, almond-shaped eyes. There was no pupil nor iris in the white haze, but by the firm set of his jaw and the furrow of his eyebrows, she knew a glare when she saw one.

Rayne could tell that strange man was exhausted and obviously hurt from whatever had just transpired between her father and him. She hated the thought of her dad hurting another person like that. They were supposed to set good examples for the pack, just like he taught her. She knew he was getting desperate with Tʋnʋp coming, but that still wasn't anyway to act out of character.

Rayne's gaze was back on the newest member of their pack—their prisoner.

That time, she noticed a woven crown of silver resting on top of the cascading ripples of chestnut hair that fell down his back. She tilted her head in confusion. The crown . . . the moss . . . the shimmers on his body . . . the wings—

She knew exactly who he was before her father could make the announcement.

"Halito!" Alpha Nashoba Vance greeted. Though everyone else answered with a booming 'hello' back, Rayne said nothing. The large man, who was on the brink of collapsing right in front of them, distracted her as they heaved his body to a stop. "I'd like you all to welcome the newest member of Moonshine. Jarrah, the King of Fae."

Jarrah's eyes sparked with rage; his lip curled in a snarl. The pack laughed and cheered Alpha Vance on while Rayne bit back a rumble of disgust. Ronan and Amira sensed her bubbled annoyance and pushed towards her for physical comfort. Ronan's fingers drifted over the smooth skin of her arm in a soothing motion that did nothing to calm her nerves.

"Why is he here?" Rayne demanded Ezra.

"Because we need him," he said, shrugging.

"Ezra, this is . . . this is kidnapping!"

Ezra snorted, ignoring Ronan and Amira's low growls of warning. "Hardly."

"Why? Because he's of another kind?" Rayne hissed.

"No," he scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Because he came willingly."

"Why am I finding that hard to believe?"

"He's the King of Fae, Rayne. Think about it. If we kidnapped him, wouldn't his little fairy friends be after us?"

Rayne frowned, and Ezra moved back, satisfied. "Exactly. Dad needs him for a reason. It doesn't matter how he got him. He did," he said.

"Then why is he chained up with iron if he's here willingly?" Rayne taunted.

"He's still one of them. Would you trust your enemy to walk around your pack? Who knows what his kind is capable of."

Rayne's frown deepened further, but before she could get another word in, her father called her forward.

"Rayne," her father called, his eyes shining with love and pride for his successor. "Miti!"

Rayne froze, despite her father telling her to come. She didn't want to go up to him while his actions still baffled her, but by the nudge from Ezra, she knew she couldn't publicly resist. So, bottling up her courage and smoothing out her face, she avoided looking at the King of Fae and moved to stand beside Alpha Vance. The pack hollered for her affectionately, blessing her future reign as alpha and hooting her full name; Rayne Leighann Vance.

She searched for her mother among the crowd. If there was anyone who'd feel the same way she did, it would be her. Her kind nature was Rayne's weakness, and the only thing that stopped her from going too deep into the stoic, future alpha territory. Though her father loved her, he expected the best from his future alpha as well.

But her mom was nowhere to be found.

Damn it.

"Your reign will begin with prosperity, daughter," Nashoba grinned, wrapping a muscular arm around Rayne's shoulder. "Starting with a powerful alliance that'll lead us through Tʋnʋp!"

The cheering wasn't enough to drown out her burning curiosity for the presence behind her. So, before she could talk herself out of not looking at him again, she turned her head and made eye contact with the King of Fae.

Rayne's heart stammered in her chest.

The deepest shade of earthy brown swirled around an onyx pupil, the fog clearing as the whites of Jarrah's eyes moved backwards. He didn't let up on the anger in his glare, but Rayne didn't miss the sway of puzzlement that briefly crossed the shimmer in his gaze. She wasn't sure if he noticed, but even the beat of one of his ivory wings faltered, its beautiful, iridescent swirl stilling at the eye contact.

Her throat swelled, and she hastily went to look back towards the crowd when something else caught her senses, keeping her eyes on him. His rapid breathing slowed down to a few rugged breaths and his body swayed on shaky feet. Rayne was half-a-second ahead of him and dove towards his side, hoisting his body upright as he toppled over.

The warmth of his bare skin against her made her swallow thickly, but she didn't move her arms from around him as she helped hold his weight. He hissed under his breath, though she didn't know if it was at her or himself for not being able to hold himself up in his weakened state. The fresh scent of woodsy pine wafted through her nostrils until she was nearly dizzy with the scent of clear skies, open fields, and blooming spring.

Rayne shifted uncomfortably under his obvious beauty. The surrounding crowd was hushed now, surprised by Rayne's quick reflexes to grab the enemy.

But their silence didn't matter. He needed tending to before he passed out on them.

"Dad, please. He needs rest," Rayne said, looking over at him. "He'll pass out if we don't do something."

Something ticked in Alpha Vance's jaw. He narrowed his eyes at Jarrah with disdain, but he eventually nodded his head. "Very well. Declan, assist Rayne in grabbing—"

"I got him," she interrupted, her smile strained as Jarrah put more pressure on her body the longer he stood there. Her fingers grabbed the other side of his waist firmly, his arm now heavy around her back. She wasn't small by any means; in fact, she had more flesh on her bones than most of the other wolves. But Jarrah was taller, his upper body fuller with just enough muscle to make him just as heavy as another male in her pack. If her father didn't hurry it up, they were both going to collapse.

"Fine. Declan, you know where he is to go," Alpha Vance declared. "Watch my daughter. And Rayne, I want you at the house in ten minutes."

His voice, laced with the command of an alpha, left no room for arguing. "Ome." Yes.

The pack dispersed from there. They spoke to Alpha Vance with questions of the captor while Declan, Ronan's father, nodded over to Rayne with Jarrah's chains in his hands. Fixing her grip on the silent Fae king attached to her side, she helped him stagger forward as best as she could. Iron made them weak, so it didn't surprise her that her father took so many extra measures to make sure Jarrah was powerless. Usually, just one chain would suffice to bring the Fae Folk down.

Much to Rayne's dismay, Declan led them to the dungeon room. They kept a room separate from the other dungeon for their kind, so that it was more comfortable for them within four soundproof walls and a bed. It may not have been as bad, but it was still a dungeon and used for prisoners.

"Wait. Declan, my father said he's part of the pack," Rayne started, then paused at the hiss of disapproval from Jarrah. She rolled her eyes and went on ignoring him. "Why is he staying here?"

Declan sighed, looking back at her. Though he didn't stop unlocking the building, he paid her enough attention to be honest with her.

"He needs to prove to us we can trust him before we just let him wander around," he explained, his gaze sharp with distrust as he eyed Jarrah.

Jarrah, still silent, stiffened.

"And how are we going to do that when he's locked up?" she demanded.

Declan's lips twitched. "You're going to have to take that one up with your father, honey. Just the messenger here."

Rayne grumbled under her breath, but helped nudge Jarrah into the confines of the room. It wasn't the best place to be, particularly for a king, but it would do until she could sort out her father's plan in the meantime at dinner. Ezra could be complacent if he wanted to, but she was the future of the pack. She had to know everything and why things were how they were.

Jarrah must know something . . . something that could help them defeat Ambrosius and his clan of vampires. But what? And how do they get it out of him while he was in that state?

Rayne bit her lip and carefully sat him on the freshly made bed in the room. She jostled him a bit so that she could avoid hurting his wings, and he winced at the clumsy movement. She murmured out a soft, "I'm sorry."

Jarrah ignored her, keeping his head forward as Declan clasped his chains to the wall. He carefully took the crown from his head as well.

"Must he stay chained up?" Rayne asked, unable to help herself. She pulled away from his body to stand by the door, unable to halt the guilt from spreading across her tight chest. Jarrah just sat there all the while and stared at Declan, saying nothing.

"Yes, Ray," Declan sighed. "Until we know he won't leave, he needs to be chained up at all times."

Jarrah looked back over at Rayne now, his intense gaze calculating as if he were trying to figure out why she cared so much. Nibbling on the inside of her cheek, she glanced at Declan, who moved towards the door.

"Let's get you home, before your dad has my ass for keeping you out," he smiled. He gave Jarrah a hard look of stone. "Your dinner will come in an hour and the rules of your stay will come from the alpha when he sees you tomorrow morning."

Once again, only silence met their ears. He just shifted his jaw and turned away, allowing his flowing hair to block his view of them. Rayne sighed, but followed Declan out of the cell.

*****