The air in the ruins of the Fae Court of Thorns was thick with the scent of iron and decay—old blood, cursed earth, the bitter tang of broken magic. The sun had risen, pale and cold above the jagged crown of black stone, casting long, clawed shadows across the broken dais. Elira was gone, dragged away in moonsteel chains, her laughter still echoing in the silence like a curse. The Free Pack stood in formation—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 move. Just stood, their presence a solid wall against the silence.
And then—
It came.
Not from the shadows.
Not from the sky.
From the ground.
A pulse—deep, ancient, laced with forbidden magic. The sigils carved into the stone flared crimson, then black, then nothing. The vines coiled around the pillars writhed like serpents, their thorns glistening with something darker than dew. The wind howled through the broken arches, carrying whispers—blood, betrayal, power—and beneath it—
Laughter.
Low.
Cruel.
Like a promise.
“It’s a trap,” I said, stepping in front of Jade, my body a wall between her and the ruins. My claws flashed—golden and deadly—my fangs bared, my golden eyes scanning the shadows. The bond pulsed—hot, electric, unbearable. I could feel her behind me, her storm-gray eyes burning, her magic flaring—crimson and wild, witch and wolf entwined. She didn’t argue. Just pressed her palm to my back, her presence a solid wall against the silence.
“Of course it’s a trap,” she said, her voice low, rough. “But we’re not walking into it blind. We’re walking into it together.”
I didn’t answer.
Just stepped forward, my boots silent on the stone, my body a wall of muscle and fury. The Free Pack followed—Lyra to my left, her silver blade at her hip, her dark braid coiled like a serpent. Torin to my right, his coat gone, his fangs bared, his scars glowing faintly with residual magic. Behind us—wolves howling, witches raising their hands, vampires baring their fangs, fae spreading their wings.
And then—
The ground shattered.
Not from magic.
From betrayal.
One moment the ruins were silent.
The next—
The dais split open, stone and earth cracking, fissures tearing through the ancient sigils. From the darkness—
She emerged.
Not in chains.
Not broken.
Whole.
Elira stood in the wreckage, her silver hair coiled like a crown, her gown white as snow, her hands stained with blood. She didn’t look at the Free Pack. Didn’t look at the ruins. Just stepped forward, her silver eyes locking onto mine. Her presence was a wall. A vow. A warning.
“You think chaining me changes anything?” she purred, her voice slicing through the wind. “You think exposing my lies makes you strong? You’re a half-fae abomination. A killer. A rebel. And if you think love makes you powerful—” her voice dropped, “—then you don’t know what *real* power is.”
I didn’t flinch. Just stepped forward, my body a wall of muscle and fury, my magic flaring—golden and feral, wolf and storm. “I know what power really is. It’s not fear. It’s not lies. It’s not chaining people to their pasts and calling it tradition. It’s standing when everyone tells you to kneel. It’s fighting when everyone tells you to run. It’s loving when everyone tells you to hate.”
She didn’t answer.
Just smiled—slow, devastating.
And then—
She raised her hand.
And the earth shattered.
Not from magic.
From betrayal.
One of the Free Pack—fae, masked, silent—raised his hand. A sigil flared on his palm—black, twisted, cursed. And then—
The ground split.
Stone and earth cracked, fissures tearing through the ruins, sending wolves flying, witches stumbling, vampires collapsing mid-shift.
And then—
They came.
Fae reinforcements—hundreds of them—pouring through the fissures, their wings spread, their magic twisting the air like a living noose. They didn’t fight.
They surrounded.
And in the center of it all—
Me.
I stood in the wreckage, my golden eyes burning, my magic flaring, my body a wall of muscle and fury. I didn’t flinch. Didn’t fall. Just stood there, my presence a solid wall against the silence.
And then—
Elira moved.
Fast.
Desperate.
One moment she was at the edge of the ruins.
The next—
She was in my face, her voice low, dangerous. “You think you’ve won? You think chaining me changes anything? I was a pawn. A relic. And now—” her hand rose, pressing to my chest, “—you’ll take my place.”
I didn’t flinch. Just grabbed her wrist, my magic flaring—golden and feral, wolf and storm. “You don’t get to decide my fate. Not after what you did to my mother. Not after what you did to Jade. Not after what you’ve done to every hybrid who’s ever been called a monster.”
“And what are you?” she asked, stepping closer. “A wolf? A fae? A man who came to destroy a hybrid and stayed to save her? You’re a contradiction. A mistake. And if you think love makes you strong—”
“I know what power really is,” I said, cutting her off. “It’s not fear. It’s not lies. It’s not chaining people to their pasts and calling it tradition. It’s standing when everyone tells you to kneel. It’s fighting when everyone tells you to run. It’s loving when everyone tells you to hate.”
And then—
I pushed.
Not with magic.
With truth.
A wave of golden energy slammed into her, sending her flying, crashing into the dais. She didn’t move. Just lay there, her gown torn, her hair matted, her presence a solid wall against the silence.
And then—
The Free Pack moved.
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 fought.
Not for survival.
Not for power.
For truth.
***
The battle raged under the sun.
Not in the ruins.
Not in the city.
In the air.
Every breath was a war cry. Every step was a vow. Every pulse of the bond was a promise.
I fought like a man possessed.
Claws flashing. Fangs bared. Magic surging—golden and feral, wolf and storm. I didn’t think. Didn’t hesitate. Just moved—ripping through enemies, shielding the Free Pack, guarding Jade with my body.
And then—
I saw it.
Not the enemy.
Not the battle.
Her.
Elira stood at the edge of the chaos, her gown untouched by blood, her silver eyes burning. She didn’t fight. Didn’t move. Just watched—really watched—as the ruins burned around her.
And then—
She smiled.
Not in victory.
In promise.
One hand rose, fingers spreading, magic flaring—black and feral, shadow and decay. A wave of cursed energy slammed into the Free Pack, sending witches flying, wolves crashing into walls, vampires collapsing mid-shift.
And then—
She turned.
Not to me.
Not to Jade.
To the ruins.
Her voice cut through the chaos, cold, dangerous. “You think you can change the world? You think you can erase centuries of order with a single decree? Then watch.”
Her hand rose.
And the dais collapsed.
Not from magic.
From betrayal.
One of the Free Pack—fae, masked, silent—raised his hand. A sigil flared on his palm—black, twisted, cursed. And then—
The stone gave way.
Stone and glass rained down, crushing warriors, splitting the floor, sending fissures through the ruins. The Free Pack scattered, wolves howling, witches casting, vampires running for cover.
And then—
They came.
Fae reinforcements—hundreds of them—pouring through the broken dais, their wings spread, their magic twisting the air like a living noose. They didn’t fight.
They surrounded.
And in the center of it all—
Jade.
She stood in the wreckage, her storm-gray eyes burning, her magic flaring, her body a wall of muscle and fury. She didn’t flinch. Didn’t fall. Just stood there, her presence a solid wall against the silence.
And then—
Elira moved.
Fast.
Desperate.
One moment she was at the edge of the ruins.
The next—
She was in Jade’s face, her voice low, dangerous. “You think you’ve won? You think chaining me changes anything? I was a pawn. A relic. And now—” her hand rose, pressing to Jade’s chest, “—you’ll take my place.”
Jade didn’t flinch. Just grabbed her wrist, her magic flaring—crimson and wild, witch and wolf entwined. “You don’t get to decide my fate. Not after what you did to my sister. Not after what you did to Kael. Not after what you’ve done to every hybrid who’s ever been called a monster.”
“And what are you?” Elira asked, stepping closer. “A witch? A wolf? A woman who came to destroy an Alpha and stayed to save him? You’re a contradiction. A mistake. And if you think love makes you strong—”
“I know what power really is,” Jade said, cutting her off. “It’s not fear. It’s not lies. It’s not chaining people to their pasts and calling it tradition. It’s standing when everyone tells you to kneel. It’s fighting when everyone tells you to run. It’s loving when everyone tells you to hate.”
And then—
She pushed.
Not with magic.
With truth.
A wave of crimson energy slammed into Elira, sending her flying, crashing into the dais. She didn’t move. Just lay there, her gown torn, her hair matted, her presence a solid wall against the silence.
And then—
The Free Pack moved.
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 fought.
Not for survival.
Not for power.
For truth.
***
The battle raged for hours.
Not in the ruins.
Not in the city.
In the air.
Every breath was a war cry. Every step was a vow. Every pulse of the bond was a promise.
I fought like a man possessed.
Claws flashing. Fangs bared. Magic surging—golden and feral, wolf and storm. I didn’t think. Didn’t hesitate. Just moved—ripping through enemies, shielding the Free Pack, guarding Jade with my body.
And then—
I saw it.
Not the enemy.
Not the battle.
Her.
Elira stood at the edge of the chaos, her gown untouched by blood, her silver eyes burning. She didn’t fight. Just watched—really watched—as the ruins burned around her.
And then—
She smiled.
Not in victory.
In promise.
One hand rose, fingers spreading, magic flaring—black and feral, shadow and decay. A wave of cursed energy slammed into the Free Pack, sending witches flying, wolves crashing into walls, vampires collapsing mid-shift.
And then—
She turned.
Not to me.
Not to Jade.
To the ruins.
Her voice cut through the chaos, cold, dangerous. “You think you can change the world? You think you can erase centuries of order with a single decree? Then watch.”
Her hand rose.
And the dais collapsed.
Not from magic.
From betrayal.
One of the Free Pack—fae, masked, silent—raised his hand. A sigil flared on his palm—black, twisted, cursed. And then—
The stone gave way.
Stone and glass rained down, crushing warriors, splitting the floor, sending fissures through the ruins. The Free Pack scattered, wolves howling, witches casting, vampires running for cover.
And then—
They came.
Fae reinforcements—hundreds of them—pouring through the broken dais, their wings spread, their magic twisting the air like a living noose. They didn’t fight.
They surrounded.
And in the center of it all—
Jade.
She stood in the wreckage, her storm-gray eyes burning, her magic flaring, her body a wall of muscle and fury. She didn’t flinch. Didn’t fall. Just stood there, her presence a solid wall against the silence.
And then—
Elira moved.
Fast.
Desperate.
One moment she was at the edge of the ruins.
The next—
She was in Jade’s face, her voice low, dangerous. “You think you’ve won? You think chaining me changes anything? I was a pawn. A relic. And now—” her hand rose, pressing to Jade’s chest, “—you’ll take my place.”
Jade didn’t flinch. Just grabbed her wrist, her magic flaring—crimson and wild, witch and wolf entwined. “You don’t get to decide my fate. Not after what you did to my sister. Not after what you did to Kael. Not after what you’ve done to every hybrid who’s ever been called a monster.”
“And what are you?” Elira asked, stepping closer. “A witch? A wolf? A woman who came to destroy an Alpha and stayed to save him? You’re a contradiction. A mistake. And if you think love makes you strong—”
“I know what power really is,” Jade said, cutting her off. “It’s not fear. It’s not lies. It’s not chaining people to their pasts and calling it tradition. It’s standing when everyone tells you to kneel. It’s fighting when everyone tells you to run. It’s loving when everyone tells you to hate.”
And then—
She pushed.
Not with magic.
With truth.
A wave of crimson energy slammed into Elira, sending her flying, crashing into the dais. She didn’t move. Just lay there, her gown torn, her hair matted, her presence a solid wall against the silence.
And then—
The Free Pack moved.
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 fought.
Not for survival.
Not for power.
For truth.
***
The battle raged for hours.
Not in the ruins.
Not in the city.
In the air.
Every breath was a war cry. Every step was a vow. Every pulse of the bond was a promise.
I fought like a man possessed.
Claws flashing. Fangs bared. Magic surging—golden and feral, wolf and storm. I didn’t think. Didn’t hesitate. Just moved—ripping through enemies, shielding the Free Pack, guarding Jade with my body.
And then—
I saw it.
Not the enemy.
Not the battle.
Her.
Elira stood at the edge of the chaos, her gown untouched by blood, her silver eyes burning. She didn’t fight. Just watched—really watched—as the ruins burned around her.
And then—
She smiled.
Not in victory.
In promise.
One hand rose, fingers spreading, magic flaring—black and feral, shadow and decay. A wave of cursed energy slammed into the Free Pack, sending witches flying, wolves crashing into walls, vampires collapsing mid-shift.
And then—
She turned.
Not to me.
Not to Jade.
To the ruins.
Her voice cut through the chaos, cold, dangerous. “You think you can change the world? You think you can erase centuries of order with a single decree? Then watch.”
Her hand rose.
And the dais collapsed.
Not from magic.
From betrayal.
One of the Free Pack—fae, masked, silent—raised his hand. A sigil flared on his palm—black, twisted, cursed. And then—
The stone gave way.
Stone and glass rained down, crushing warriors, splitting the floor, sending fissures through the ruins. The Free Pack scattered, wolves howling, witches casting, vampires running for cover.
And then—
They came.
Fae reinforcements—hundreds of them—pouring through the broken dais, their wings spread, their magic twisting the air like a living noose. They didn’t fight.
They surrounded.
And in the center of it all—
Jade.
She stood in the wreckage, her storm-gray eyes burning, her magic flaring, her body a wall of muscle and fury. She didn’t flinch. Didn’t fall. Just stood there, her presence a solid wall against the silence.
And then—
Elira moved.
Fast.
Desperate.
One moment she was at the edge of the ruins.
The next—
She was in Jade’s face, her voice low, dangerous. “You think you’ve won? You think chaining me changes anything? I was a pawn. A relic. And now—” her hand rose, pressing to Jade’s chest, “—you’ll take my place.”
Jade didn’t flinch. Just grabbed her wrist, her magic flaring—crimson and wild, witch and wolf entwined. “You don’t get to decide my fate. Not after what you did to my sister. Not after what you did to Kael. Not after what you’ve done to every hybrid who’s ever been called a monster.”
“And what are you?” Elira asked, stepping closer. “A witch? A wolf? A woman who came to destroy an Alpha and stayed to save him? You’re a contradiction. A mistake. And if you think love makes you strong—”
“I know what power really is,” Jade said, cutting her off. “It’s not fear. It’s not lies. It’s not chaining people to their pasts and calling it tradition. It’s standing when everyone tells you to kneel. It’s fighting when everyone tells you to run. It’s loving when everyone tells you to hate.”
And then—
She pushed.
Not with magic.
With truth.
A wave of crimson energy slammed into Elira, sending her flying, crashing into the dais. She didn’t move. Just lay there, her gown torn, her hair matted, her presence a solid wall against the silence.
And then—
The Free Pack moved.
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 fought.
Not for survival.
Not for power.
For truth.
***
The ruins were silent.
Not from fear.
From awe.
The Free Pack stood in formation—wolves with fire in their eyes, witches with spells at their fingertips, vampires with fangs bared, fae with thorned wings. Elira lay broken. The remnants of her army retreated into the shadows, their presence fading like smoke.
And then—
Jade stepped forward.
Not toward the enemy.
Not toward the Council.
Toward me.
Her hand rose, pressing to the scar on my chest—the one from when I was twelve, when they’d tried to break me. “You’re not what I expected,” she said, her voice rough.
“Neither are you,” I said, stepping closer, my golden eyes burning.
And then—
She kissed me.
Not slow. Not soft.
Hard.
Deep.
Claiming.
Her mouth crashed into mine, hungry, furious, a war cry. I groaned, arching into her, my hands flying to her waist, pulling her against me. She didn’t let me take control. Didn’t let me dominate. Just kissed me—deep, aching, fierce—her tongue sweeping into my mouth, her fingers tangling in my hair, her body pressing against mine.
The bond exploded—light, sound, magic—crimson and gold flaring between us like a living flame. The sigils on the ruins glowed brighter. The heather burned. The moonlight poured down, silver and cold, casting long, clawed shadows.
And then—
She broke the kiss.
“You’re not what I expected,” she whispered, her voice rough.
“Neither are you,” I said, pressing my forehead to hers.
And then—
We turned.
Not away from the ruins.
Not toward the keep.
Toward the Free Pack.
Lyra. Torin. The hybrids.
My storm.
My truth.
And they weren’t here to negotiate.
They were here to burn.
***
Outside, the valley was silent.
But inside—
There was only us.
And the fire that would burn the world down.