The night air was holding its breath. Like even the forest knew something was about to go sideways.
Liora shot awake, heart pounding, mind buzzing. Everything felt too sharp, too loud—burning pine, wet stone, something furry sliding past bark. Not exactly a lullaby.
And then—snap. Twig, just outside the cave.
Kael was already moving. He was a shadow with fangs, eyes gold and wild, one hand pressed to the rock, every muscle coiled.
She didn't bother playing scared. Dagger ready, breath steady. Training took over. This was what she was made for, right?
Another footstep. Crap—now there were two sets. So much for a quiet night.
Kael flicked a hand: Stay back.
Yeah, no. Like she was gonna cower in a cave while he faced whatever was out there. She slid up beside him, back cold against the wall, every nerve on edge.
Then a voice—low, too calm, way too familiar.
"Liora. I know you're here."
Her stomach dropped. Dante. Of course.
Kael's jaw flexed. Not good.
Another voice, this one female, sharp enough to cut glass. "Tracker says her trail ends here. Orders?"
Serena. Council's pet nightmare. Rumor was she once peeled a rogue like an orange, just with words.
Kael shot her a look. "We can't take both of them. Not without giving away everything."
Liora's mind spun. "I have to talk to Dante."
Kael's growl was practically a threat. "He's Council. He'll drag you back in chains."
"He might not."
"You wanna stake your life on 'might'?"
"No. I wanna stake it on him."
Before he could drag her back, she stepped out into the moonlight. Heart thundering, chin up.
"Dante," she called out, trying to sound like she had control of this situation.
Silence. Then he stepped into the open, weapons sheathed. He looked like he'd seen a ghost.
"Liora," he breathed. "You're alive."
She swallowed. "Obviously."
Serena slipped up next to him, eyes like knives. "She's alone?"
Dante shrugged. "Doesn't matter. We're bringing her in."
Liora raised her hands, like that'd do any good. "I didn't run. I followed the truth. You should too."
Dante's face twitched—yeah, still in there somewhere—but Serena pulled a silver-bladed knife, nose wrinkling.
"I smell him on you."
Kael stepped out, all teeth and attitude. "Then you know who I am."
Serena's sneer could curdle milk. "Kael Varyn. Traitor. Murderer. Cursed Alpha of the Forsaken Line."
"Survivor, too," Kael shot back. "And rightful heir."
Dante's jaw tightened. "Liora. Get away from him."
"No. I found the ruins, Dante. I found the truth. They've been lying to us."
Serena lunged, no warning. Kael met her mid-air, claws and silver, sparks flying. Liora darted at Dante, blades flashing, but he pulled back, eyes wild.
"Don't," he whispered. "We're being watched."
She froze. "What?"
"Skywraiths. Council's got eyes in the trees."
Kael roared, slashing Serena's arm, blood slick on her silver. "They're buying time."
Dante grabbed Liora's wrist, voice urgent. "Run. Now."
She hesitated, torn in two.
"I'll hold them off. Go!"
Kael didn't wait—he yanked her into the trees, sprinting like hell itself was on their heels. Behind them, Dante turned and jammed his blade upward—straight through a flickering patch of air. A skywraith shrieked and burst apart, all mist and dying light.
Spy construct. Great.
"Dante just bought us a few seconds," Liora gasped.
Kael's breathing sounded bad—tight, ragged. "Are you hurt?" she asked.
"No. Just pissed."
They ran. And ran. Deep into woods Kael had sworn to avoid. Guess there's a first time for everything.
By the time they stopped, dawn was trying to break through. Liora's legs felt like noodles.
They found an old watchtower, barely standing but dry, and crawled inside. Kael slumped against a wall, blood soaking his sleeve.
"You lied," she said, barely above a whisper.
Kael looked up, eyes shadowed.
"You said you couldn't trust anyone. But you trusted me."
He studied her, like he was deciding if she was real. "You risked everything to reach Dante."
"I owed him that."
Kael looked away, jaw set. "You still trust him?"
She hesitated, thumb tracing a crack in the floor. "I think he wants to believe me. But the Council's got him on a short leash."
Kael's fists tightened. "Then maybe it's time we broke it."
They spent the day turning that busted tower into a fortress. Liora carved blood runes and trip glyphs from memory, fingers stained red and black. Kael braced the walls, muscles flexing, the Alpha coming back with every brick he touched.
She watched him from above, trying not to stare. Too late.
Every move was sharper now. Like the real Kael had finally come out to play.
And her wolf—well, her wolf just wanted to howl.
When the sun dipped, she joined him downstairs. He was scrubbing blood off his arms, sleeves rolled up, scars on display. Some new, some old as the world.
"Those still hurt?" she asked, voice barely a croak.
Kael looked at them, not really seeing. "Some things don't go away."
"Mine don't, either. But we could make new memories. Good ones, even."
He looked up, softer than she'd ever seen. "You'd actually stay?"
"Til the end," she said. No hesitation.
His mouth twitched—almost a smile. "Then let's make it worth it."
The next week? A blur.
Training, hunting, plotting revenge. Liora taught Kael Council fighting tricks; he showed her how to vanish between scent trails, how to twist old magic so the hunters would miss them.
They became more than just partners or fated mates or whatever the legends called it. They were equals now. She could feel it in her bones.
Every night, hunched next to the fire, she'd peel back another layer of him. He wasn't just some legend. He was that kid who tried to spare a rival, the Alpha who'd rather take crap from the council than kill someone weak. The stubborn Alpha who'd rather die than bow.
Felt like they were actually making something. Something real, not just surviving another day. Sometimes, she almost managed to ignore the war gnawing at their heels.
Yeah. Almost.
Then came that morning everything went sideways .
Kael didn't get up.
At first, Liora figured he was just wiped. But when she shook his shoulder? Ice. A shock straight through her fingers.
"Kael?" she whispered. Nothing. His skin looked wrong—sickly, cold.
That's when she spotted it. Little dart, wedged under his collarbone. Glowing, faint but nasty.
She yanked it out. "No. Moonbane venom."
The thing made to screw over wolves like them—paralyzes, cuts off the wolf magic, stops healing dead in its tracks.
She rolled him over, hands moving on autopilot. Out came the needle, the stash of herbs, bloodroot—blending the antidote together barely thinking, just hoping muscle memory would save them.
And then—she wasn't alone.
Dante, lurking in the doorway, hands up like he's surrendering.
"I'm not here to fight," he said.
She bared her teeth. "You shot him."
He shook his head. "Not me. Serena's lost it. She's gone rogue."
Liora blinked. "You're kidding."
"Nope. She ditched the Council. She wants Kael dead for her own reasons."
Liora's hands shook. Kael looked worse.
Dante stepped closer, pulling a vial from his jacket. "I brought this."
She stared at him. Suspicion, but also—desperation.
"I swear on my bond," he said.
She sniffed the vial. Familiar—like what she was already mixing. Screw it. She gave it to Kael, holding her breath, watching his chest rise and fall, slower… then steadier. Color crept back into his cheeks.
He was hanging in there.
Dante grimaced. "That'll only buy you a little time. Serena's not the only one—Elders have called for a purge."
Liora stood up, slow and dangerous. "Then we hit first."
He looked at her like she'd just grown fangs. "You want to—what?"
"They'll hunt Kael till he's dead. Till there's nothing left of the old bloodline. Not while I'm still here."
She glanced at Kael. Fierce.
Dante hesitated. "There's no way. It's basically suicide."
She locked eyes with him, voice flat. "Try me."