POV: Ayla

The letter still sits heavy in my hands the next morning, its edges sharp against my palms. I do not hide it this time. I carry it into the main living area where the three alphas are already gathered over maps and security reports. Without a word I place the pages in the center of the table.

They read the final lines again in silence.

You are not their cure. You are their equal. Make them earn you.

When they look up, I meet each of their eyes in turn. The weight of those words settles between us like something living. I can feel the bond pulling at...