The war room was silent when I stepped inside—too silent. The kind of silence that follows a storm, not because the wind has died, but because the earth remembers it. Blood still pooled in the cracks of the obsidian floor, dark and drying, like ink spilled across a vow. The mirror was shattered. The sigils on the walls flickered weakly, their crimson glow dimming like embers after a fire. And in the center of it all—Jade and Kael.
They stood close, not touching, but the bond between them pulsed like a second heartbeat—hot, electric, alive. Jade’s storm-gray eyes burned with something fiercer than vengeance now. Something older. Kael’s golden eyes scanned the shadows, his body a wall of muscle and fury, but for the first time, I saw it—softness. Not weakness. Not surrender. But something quieter. Something real.
Lyra stood near the door, her silver blade sheathed, her hand never far from the hilt. Silas leaned against the wall, his coat lined with silver thread, his fangs bared, his presence a solid wall against the silence. And me—I didn’t move. Just stood in the doorway, my boots silent on the stone, my scars on display, my fangs still bared.
They’d won.
Elira was gone. Cassien was broken. Mira was locked away, her lies stripped bare. The Council had bent. The Citadel had fallen. And yet—
It wasn’t over.
And I knew what came next.
***
They didn’t look at me at first. Just stood there, their breaths mingling, the bond flaring between them like a living flame. Then Jade turned her head, her storm-gray eyes locking onto mine. “You’re here.”
“I said I would be,” I said, stepping forward, my voice low. “I don’t make promises I don’t keep.”
Kael didn’t speak. Just turned his head, his golden eyes burning. He didn’t need to say anything. I’d served him since we were boys—since the fae took his mother, since he killed his first challenger, since he claimed the Alpha title with blood on his hands and silence in his chest. I’d followed him through war, through betrayal, through the slow, suffocating weight of leadership. I’d watched him become a monster to protect his pack. And now—
Now he was becoming something else.
And I wasn’t sure if I could follow.
“You’ve been quiet,” Jade said, stepping closer. “Since the battle. Since Cassien. Since Mira.”
“I’ve been thinking,” I said, not flinching. “About loyalty. About duty. About what it means to follow a man who’s no longer just an Alpha.”
She didn’t answer. Just waited, her storm-gray eyes burning.
Kael exhaled, slow, deliberate. “Say it.”
“You’re changing,” I said, stepping forward, my voice low, dangerous. “And I don’t know if I can follow a man who hesitates. Who questions. Who feels.”
“And what if I do?” he asked, stepping closer, his golden eyes locking onto mine. “What if I’m not the man I was? What if I’m not the Alpha you swore to follow?”
“Then I walk,” I said, my voice breaking. “Because I didn’t pledge my life to a man who flinches. I pledged it to a leader. A storm. A king.”
The room fell silent.
Not from fear.
From weight.
And then—
Jade moved.
Not toward me.
Not toward Kael.
Toward the truth.
Her hand rose, fingers spreading, magic flaring—crimson and wild, witch and wolf entwined. A wave of energy slammed into me, not to harm, but to reveal. The glamour shattered—like glass, like lies—and beneath it—
Nothing.
No mask. No deception. No betrayal.
Just truth.
“You’re not questioning his leadership,” she said, stepping closer, her storm-gray eyes burning. “You’re afraid of losing him.”
My chest cracked.
Not from pain.
From truth.
Because she was right.
I wasn’t afraid of a weak Alpha.
I was afraid of a man who had finally learned to love.
And if he could love—
Then he could be broken.
“I’ve followed him through war,” I said, my voice rough. “Through blood. Through fire. And now—now he’s choosing a woman over the pack. A hybrid over his own kind. And if that makes him strong—” my voice broke, “—then I don’t know what I am.”
“You’re not what you expected,” Kael said, stepping forward, his golden eyes burning. “And neither am I. But that doesn’t make me less of a leader. It makes me more.”
“And what about the pack?” I asked, stepping closer. “What about the wolves who still see hybrids as abominations? What about the ones who’ll challenge you the moment they smell weakness?”
“Then let them challenge,” he said, his voice low, dangerous. “Let them come. Let them bleed. Because I’m not stepping down. Not for them. Not for the Council. Not for the old order. I’m staying. And if you can’t follow a man who chooses love over fear—” his voice dropped, “—then walk.”
The bond flared—hot, electric, unbearable. I could feel it—the fire, the truth, the raw, unfiltered power of what they’d become. And for the first time, I saw it.
Not just a mate bond.
A revolution.
And I had a choice.
Stand with the storm.
Or be burned by it.
***
I didn’t answer. Just stepped back, my boots silent on the stone, my fangs bared. The war room felt too small, the air too thick. I needed space. Air. Time.
So I left.
Not in silence.
Not in shadow.
>In the open.The courtyard was quiet, the wind low, the scent of pine and iron still clinging to the air. I walked to the edge of the keep, where the cliffs dropped into the valley below, where the ruins of the old shrine stood half-buried in heather and thorned brambles. The same place where Jade and Kael had claimed each other under the full moon. The same circle of broken stone and ancient sigils, pulsing with residual magic.
I didn’t sit. Didn’t kneel. Just stood there, my hands clenched into fists, my fangs bared, my scars on display.
And then—
I felt it.
Not the bond.
Not the magic.
Time.
Midnight.
***
The pack found me there.
Not all of them.
Just the ones who mattered.
Lyra stepped forward first, her silver blade at her hip, her dark braid coiled like a serpent. “You’re thinking,” she said, her voice low.
“I’m remembering,” I said, not turning.
“The old days,” she said, stepping beside me. “When it was just us. Just the pack. Just the hunt.”
“And now?”
“Now it’s bigger,” she said, her voice rough. “It’s not just about survival. It’s about truth. About justice. About the ones who’ve been called monsters.”
“And what if we’re still monsters?” I asked, turning to her. “What if we’re just the ones who survived?”
She didn’t flinch. Just stepped closer, her storm-gray eyes locking onto mine. “Then we’re the ones who get to decide what comes next.”
And then—
The others came.
Wolves with fire in their eyes. Witches with spells at their fingertips. Vampires with fangs bared. Fae with thorned wings. They didn’t speak. Didn’t kneel. Just stood in formation, their presence a solid wall against the silence.
And then—
Kael arrived.
Not in silence.
Not in shadow.
>In the open.He stepped into the circle, shirtless, scars on display, his golden eyes burning. Jade was beside him, barefoot, her mark pulsing, her magic flaring. They didn’t look at me. Just walked to the center of the ruins, where the broken stone was still warm from the last battle.
And then—
He spoke.
“You’ve followed me through war,” he said, his voice cutting through the wind. “Through blood. Through fire. And now—now I’m asking you to follow me into something new. Not just as your Alpha. Not just as your king. But as your equal. Your truth. Your storm.”
The pack murmured—wolves growling, witches raising their hands, vampires baring their fangs.
And then—
He turned to me.
“Torin,” he said, his voice low, dangerous. “You’ve been my brother since we were boys. You’ve bled for me. Fought for me. Died for me. And now—” his golden eyes burned into mine, “—I’m asking you to choose. Not as my lieutenant. Not as my enforcer. But as the man who sees me—really sees me—and decides if I’m still worth following.”
The wind howled.
The heather bent.
The thorned brambles parted like a path.
And then—
I stepped forward.
Not slowly.
Not weakly.
With *force*.
My boots crunched over stone as I walked to the center of the ruins, my fangs bared, my scars on display. I didn’t look at the pack. Didn’t look at Jade. Just at Kael.
And then—
I knelt.
Not in submission.
Not in reverence.
In *solidarity*.
“I’ve followed you through war,” I said, my voice rough. “Through blood. Through fire. And now—now I’ll follow you into the storm. Not because you’re my Alpha. Not because you’re my king. But because you’re my brother. My truth. My equal.”
The bond flared—hot, electric, unbearable. The sigils on the ruins glowed brighter. The heather burned. The moonlight poured down, silver and cold, casting long, clawed shadows.
And then—
Kael stepped forward.
Not to lift me.
Not to speak.
To kneel.
One moment he was standing.
The next—
He was on one knee, his golden eyes burning, his body a wall of muscle and fury. “You’re not what I expected,” he said, his voice rough.
“Neither are you,” I said, stepping closer, my fangs baring. “But you’re mine. And I’m yours. And if that means burning the world down—” my voice rose, “—then I’ll burn with you.”
And then—
We stood.
Not in silence.
Not in shadow.
>In the open.Wolves howled. Witches raised their hands. Vampires bared their fangs. Fae spread their wings.
And then—
We turned.
Not away from the ruins.
Not toward the keep.
Toward the future.
***
Back in the war room, the air was different—lighter, charged. The sigils on the walls glowed faintly, responding to the oath that had been spoken. Jade stood at the obsidian table, her hand tracing the blood-red maps, her storm-gray eyes burning. Kael was beside her, his golden eyes scanning the shadows, his body a wall of muscle and fury. Lyra stood near the door, her silver blade sheathed, her hand never far from the hilt. Silas leaned against the wall, his coat lined with silver thread, his fangs bared.
And me—I didn’t stand in the shadows.
I stood at the table.
“The pack is with you,” I said, my voice low. “But the Council won’t stay silent. Cassien’s fall will spark retaliation. And if they think they can use the old laws to break us—” my voice rose, “—then they’ll learn what the storm really is.”
Kael didn’t answer. Just turned to Jade, his golden eyes burning. “We need to move. Reclaim the keep. Fortify Veridia. And if they want a war—” his voice dropped, “—then let it be on our terms.”
She didn’t flinch. Just stepped closer, her storm-gray eyes locking onto his. “Then we move. Now.”
And we did.
Not in silence.
Not in shadow.
>In the open.The Free Pack moved like a living storm—wolves howling, witches casting, vampires running ahead to scout, fae spreading their wings to watch the skies. I walked at the front, my coat gone, my scars on display, my fangs bared. Lyra was at my side, her silver blade drawn, her presence a solid wall against the silence.
And then—
I felt it.
Not the bond.
Not the magic.
Time.
Midnight.
***
That night, I dreamed of fire.
Not the kind that burns.
The kind that cleanses.
And in the center of it—
Us.
Kael. Jade. Lyra. Silas. The pack.
Standing in the flames, our scars glowing, our fangs bared, our presence a solid wall against the silence.
And when I woke—
The bond was pulsing—hot, electric, alive.
And I knew.
This wasn’t over.
But we would be ready.
Because we were not what we were.
We were not what they expected.
We were the storm.
And we would burn the world down.