The Snow Wolf's Mate

Queen of Ashes:

[POV: Dayana]

The witch waited for me.

Just as she had the first time, long ago—when I was still young enough to be afraid and just old enough to hide it.

Her hut stood crooked in the roots of the Withered Pines, cloaked in rot and thick with shadow. The air buzzed with old magic, the kind that didn’t ask permission and never forgave a broken promise.

This time, I wasn’t afraid.

Cole stood beside me, barefoot, bare-chested, the mark of the blood pact still seared like a dark flame across his chest. His eyes burned gold—not with the soft flicker of the boy I once teased into kisses beneath the stars, but with the wild, feral glare of Rau.

He wasn’t Cole anymore.

Not really.

And that pleased me.

“Come in,” the witch rasped, her voice like wind scraping bone.

We stepped inside, and the door closed behind us with a whispering thud.

“You’ve come for more than answers now,” she said, without turning. “You want power.”

“I want what’s mine,” I replied. “What the prophecy was always meant to give me.”

She chuckled. “Power costs.”

“I’m willing to pay.”

She turned then, and her ancient eyes—milky and ageless—landed on Cole. “And him? Does he come of his own will?”

Cole bared his teeth in a grin. “I am the will.”

The witch nodded once and reached into a chest filled with bones, dust, and vials sealed in ancient symbols. She began to chant, and I drew the dagger from my belt—the same one that had sliced open Cole’s palm at the pond.

“Blood for blood,” I said.

“Shadow to shadow,” she echoed.

Cole stepped forward, and I did not flinch when he drew the dagger across my arm. The blood ran hot and dark, dripping into the waiting stone bowl between us.

He followed, his cut mingling with mine.

The witch’s words grew louder, faster—until the bowl began to pulse with light. The blood turned black and shimmered with threads of violet, the kind of color that doesn’t exist in the mortal world. Power. Wild. Untamed.

And ours.

We drank.

Together.

The world spun.

Magic tore through me like fire and ice, ripping apart the pieces of who I had been and replacing them with something stronger. I felt my shadows stirring—not like whispers anymore, but like creatures—alive, pulsing, obedient.

Next to me, Cole’s body arched, a roar ripping from his throat. His muscles tightened, his breath turned to steam. His wounds—those he'd inflicted on himself in rage—sealed before my eyes, the skin knitting together with impossible speed.

When it was over, we collapsed into each other, panting.

His lips found mine—rough, hungry, possessive. The taste of blood and power burned on our tongues. There was no gentleness. There was no need.

We were lovers. We were war. And we were ready.

Our return to Midnight Crest was unannounced. But not unseen.

The moment we entered the estate, the air turned still. As if the very walls knew what was coming. My mother and father sat at the long stone table, feasting, drinking, laughing over something meaningless.

Until they saw us.

Until they felt what we had become.

“Dayana,” my mother said carefully, rising to her feet. “What have you done?”

“Fulfilled my purpose,” I said. “Finally.”

My father growled. “You reek of forbidden magic. What have you brought into our bloodline?”

“Strength,” I whispered, and let the first of the shadows slip from my fingers.

It crawled across the table like a serpent, hissing, twisting into something monstrous with burning violet eyes. My father drew his sword, but it was too late.

Cole moved faster than him now.

He was a blur—a shadow with teeth. He tore into my father’s chest with a growl that shook the windows, and the blade clattered to the floor.

My mother screamed.

I turned to her.

She backed away, shaking, her eyes wide. “Dayana—please—you don’t know what you’re doing.”

“I know exactly what I’m doing.”

“You were never meant to—” she choked. “Aria… Aria is not your sister. You were both taken. Switched as infants. We never knew who was the cursed one. We were wrong—all of us were wrong!”

I stilled.

Something flickered deep inside me.

But it was gone in a breath.

“And now,” I said coldly, “it doesn’t matter.”

“No—please—”

My hands closed around her throat, and her screams died in my grip. Her last breath left her with a strangled gasp.

I smiled as she collapsed to the floor.

The shadows withdrew.

Cole stood beside me, chest bare, mouth bloodied, his eyes wild.

And I…

I was finally free.

I turned to face what remained of my once-noble family’s legacy and claimed it with a single command.

“Kneel.”

And the pack did.