Flashback
The moment the servant slipped out of the dungeon, Ashral exhaled and leaned against the cold stone wall.
"He’s gone," she murmured.
Zeph arched a brow. "Are you sure?"
Ashral smirked. "Positive."
“How did you know someone was there?”
“He didn’t mask his scent properly. I bet it was Ryker’s mate that sent him. I saw the way she looked at me earlier.”
Zeph exhaled sharply, pacing through the small space of the cell. “Great. So now we’re officially running out of time.”
Ashral pushed off the wall. “Which is why we need to move forward with our real plan. We’ll let them believe they know what we’re up to while we work on the real escape.”
Zeph crossed her arms. “Okay. Which is?”
Ashral tapped her temple. “You need to fully unlock your illusion ability. If you can perfect it before tomorrow, we’ll have a shot at getting you out of here.”
Zeph frowned. “How am I supposed to master an ability I barely understand in one night?”
“You practice. "And fast,” Ashral gestured to herself. “Use me as a test subject. Change my appearance to that of a Guard.”
Zeph huffed but focused, her brows furrowing in concentration. The first few attempts were rough—Ashral’s features flickered, distorted, or ended up looking downright ridiculous. After countless tries, Zeph finally got it right. The air shimmered around Ashral, and in her place stood a perfect replica of one of Ryker’s guards.
“How do you know how my power works if you don’t have it yourself?”
Ashral leaned against the cold stone wall. “I’ve been around enough pack members to know how their abilities work. I’ve seen illusionists in action before.”
“Right…”
“Now to find someone to replace me,” Ashral remarked.
**
Ashral pushed off the wall. “Now, we just need someone to replace me.”
Without another word, she slipped into the shadows, leaving Zeph to play her part.
“Someone, Anyone. "I need some help here. "I can’t live like this.” Zeph whined, making a lot of noise.
“Keep it shut, will you?” one of the guards complained.
Zeph let out a weak, pitiful sigh, making her voice tremble as she spoke. “I don’t think Ryker would like it if he finds me dead here.”
The guards ignored her at first, but she groaned again, louder this time. “I can barely move, as it is! Do you really want to be the one explaining to him why I died in my cell?”
That got their attention. One of them grumbled and turned toward the cell, peering inside. “What the hell is wrong with you now?”
From the shadows, Ashral moved in.
Before the guard could react, she stepped into view, locking eyes with him. Her power took hold instantly. His body stiffened, his pupils dilating as the brainwashing sank in.
Ashral glanced over at Zeph. “Your turn.”
Zeph nodded, inhaling deeply. She focused on the guard’s form, picturing Ashral in his place. Within seconds, he was no longer himself but a perfect replica of Ashral.
\---
Back to the present.
Vixxen stormed into Ryker’s pack house with his men, his fiery eyes locked onto the nearest warrior.
"Where's Ryker?" Vixxen asked, his voice low and serious. The guards looked at each other nervously, then one of them quickly went inside. Soon, loud footsteps came from the hallway, and Ryker appeared, smiling as usual.
"Well, well," Ryker said, crossing his arms. "What brings you here?"
Vixxen didn’t waste time on pleasantries. “I’ve come to take Zeph.”
Ryker raised an eyebrow. "Zeph?" he said, pretending not to know. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
Vixxen's eyes filled with anger. "Stop playing games, Ryker. "I know she's here." Ryker sighed loudly, shaking his head. "You're mistaken." Why would Zeph be here?" Vixxen clenched his fists, trying not to lose control. "I will not repeat myself."
Ryker’s tone became serious: “You forget whose land you're on. This isn't Terran's territory. "You don’t make demands here," Vixxen stepped closer. "And you seem to forget that keeping Zeph against her will means war."
Ryker’s expression hardened, but then he let out a short laugh. “You still don’t get it, do you?” He stepped forward, lowering his voice. She’s mine. My mate. I have every right to have her.”
A sly smile spread across Vixxen's face. "Ahh…I see what's going on now." Ryker's eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"
“You rejected her,” Vixxen said, his voice taunting. “And when you realized she had potential—when she became stronger—you suddenly wanted her back.” He laughed coldly. “But she rejected you, didn’t she?”
Ryker’s brows twitched.
“That’s it, isn’t it?” Vixxen continued, stepping closer. Your little ego couldn’t handle the fact that she refused you. "And now you’re trying to force her to submit.” His smirk widened. “Pathetic.”
Ryker growled, losing his temper. "Enough!" His voice was a low, threatening snarl.
Vixxen chuckled darkly. “Touched a nerve, did I?”
Ryker's muscles tensed, his wolf fighting to come out. “If you think you can walk into my pack house and insult me, you’re sorely mistaken.”
He stepped back, his body shaking as he transformed. His bones cracked, his muscles grew, and black fur covered him. In an instant, a giant wolf stood there, its eyes blazing with anger.