Page 77 of Fated to the Lone Shifter
I shimmy a small crystal from one of the zippered pockets in my pants.
I’m running out of time.
Because Noah is out there. And he’s either coming for me himself or sending the troops.
Either way, for all of their sakes, I have to stop him.
Chapter twenty-four
Alpha’s Descent
NOAH
Isit in Marcus’s dorm room, back against the wall, eyes locked on the rise and fall of his chest. He looks peaceful enough.
But I know better.
That stillness isn’t rest—it’s pre-transformation. The beginning of the end of his old life. And I’m the one who did this to him.
I don’t make the choice lightly. I don’t think I’ll ever stop feeling the weight of it.
But Marcus sees too much. Asks too many questions. Questions about Sera’s healing, her connection to the fires. About Tori. About me.
He’s gotten too close to truths that could burn us alive.
So I change him.
It should’ve been a choice. Something sacred. A pact between wolves. But this isn’t a storybook. This is survival. If I can’t trust him with our secrets, he becomes a threat.
Now he’s one of us, and our secrets are his secrets.
And maybe more than that—maybe he’s my only shot at protecting the woman I love.
I stand up, cross the room, and crack the window. Cool night air hits my face, but it doesn’t clear the fog in my chest. I sniff the air, reaching out for her.
Nothing.
No trace of Sera.
She still hasn’t come back.
My chest tightens with every passing second, a silent countdown ticking in my ribs.
I have to believe she’s okay. That Bode won’t hurt her. Not yet.
But that doesn’t mean she’ll be unharmed. I’m not stupid. I saw the way he looked at her—the possessive hunger. The calculated, territorial tension. I sensed it the moment they met. He doesn’t just want her for her beauty. He wants her magic. Her power. Her bloodline.
Her bond.
I grew up hearing old stories around campfires. My father used to whisper about alphas stealing mated partners. About fated magic twisted by power and blood. I never believed in that garbage.
Until now.
A groan from the bed pulls me out of my head. Marcus is awakening, sweat slicking his brow, body trembling. It’s begun—the slow, aching unraveling of who he used to be.
I pull the blanket up and sit beside him.
A knock sounds. I tense, but it’s just Jamie. She pokes her head in.
