"These aren't just dots on a map. They're… orders."
Kael leaned in closer, squinting hard. "He's right. This one says, 'Hit 'em at moonrise.' And this—"take out the old family blood first."
"Old family blood? Like me?"
"Like anybody from those pure old lines," Helena whispered. "The cult wants to wipe out anyone who might push back against them."
"But why hit seven packs all at once?" Garrett asked. "Why not pick 'em off one by one?"
"'Cause they want total mess," Kael said. "One pack down? Folks start asking questions. Seven down at the same time? That's full-on war. And in a war, the cult sneaks in and grabs control while everyone's too busy fighting."
I ran my finger over the red X on Black River land. "When's the big hit?"
Marcus grabbed a magnifying glass and peered at the tiny writing. "Date's… two weeks from now. Right during the council meet-up."
"Two weeks," I breathed. "That's no time at all."
"It's plenty," Kael said, his voice rock-steady. "We know their sneaky plan. Time to get ready."
"Can we, though?" Helena pushed back. "Even if we warn the other alphas, will they buy it? Will they have time to beef up their guards?"
"They better," Garrett grunted. "Or it's game over for all of us."
We huddled over that map for hours, scribbling notes, copying every bit. The longer I stared, the more sneaky details popped out.
Blue lines for supply paths. Tiny notes on guard shifts. Green highlights for getaway routes.
This wasn't some quick raid. It was a full-blown battle blueprint.
"Leighton's been cooking this up for years," I said. "Look how every little thing's mapped out."
"Means the cult's had their hooks in him for years," Kael added. "Way before he even met Julia."
It slammed into me like a snowball to the gut. "Our marriage… it was all fake, wasn't it? He was playing for their team the whole time."
Kael's hand slipped into mine under the table. "Don't go there now. Eyes on stopping him."
He was spot-on. No room for old hurts when seven packs hung in the balance.
"I have to show you something else," Marcus said. He pulled out a crumpled paper—a quick sketch from his head. "While you snapped pics of the map, I spotted this on Leighton's desk. No time to snag it, so I memorized the main stuff."
He spread it flat on the table.
It was a crystal. Shaped like a teardrop, glowing with this creepy red shine. Scribbles around it in some weird writing I didn't know.
But Kael did.
"That's old wolf talk," he said. "From way back, before packs or alphas or moon witches or any borders."
"What's it say?" I asked.
He went quiet, piecing it together word by word. "The Moon's Tear. Heart of the very first wolf. Holds the Moon Goddess's own spark."
"The thing my mom wrote about," I whispered.
"There's more." Kael kept going. "Whoever grabs the Tear? They can boss any wolf around. Make 'em shift, make 'em bow, even make 'em… drop dead."
"That's…" Helena's voice wobbled. "That's god-level power."
"And the cult's hunting it," Marcus said. "These scribbles? Hunt spots. Places they've already checked."
I scanned the list. Mountains. Caves. Crumbly old ruins. All crossed off.
"They haven't nabbed it yet," I said. "But they're closing in."
"How do you figure?" Garrett asked.
I jabbed the last one—the only clean spot. "That's the Temple of the First Moon. Mom's journal mentioned it. She called it the holiest spot in wolf history. If the Tear's real, that's home base."
"Where's this temple?" Marcus asked.
"Up north. Past the wild no-man's-lands. In the Frostfang Mountains."
"That's our route anyway," Kael said. "To sniff out the cult's hideout."
"Bet the hideout's right next door," I realized with a jolt. "They're camping close, digging around."
Garrett jumped up. "Then we have to hustle. If they snag the Tear first"
A gigantic crash cut him off.
The window shattered like ice under boots. Glass bits flew wildly. I threw my arms up to shield my face.
A black arrow sailed through, thunking into the wall. A note dangled from it. Marcus yanked it out. "'Give back what you took, or watch your pack go up in smoke.'"
"They tailed us," Helena gasped. "They know about the map."
"No way," Marcus said. "We shook 'em in the woods."
"Not if they've got a sniffer," Kael growled low. He edged to the window, scanning the yard below. "Someone who smells magic."
Another arrow whooshed in. This one lit up, flaming halfway.
Fire arrow.
It nailed the armory roof. Flames whooshed up, chewing through wood like hungry foxes.
"Attack!" Garrett bellowed. "Defend spots—now!"
Pandemonium hit.
Pack folks spilled out, some shifting to wolves, others snatching axes and bows. Fire jumped to the stables.
In the smoky haze, I spotted them. Cloaked shapes zipping like shadows at dusk. Not normal wolves. Something freakier.
"Blood Moon killers," Kael spat. "Juiced with dark spells. Tough as nails to drop."
"Tough?" I snatched a sword off the rack.
"Yeah, tough." He whipped out his blade. "Stick by me."
We bolted downstairs into the yard. Heat blasted like a bonfire gone wrong. Smoke clawed at our throats.
A cloaked creep lunged. I barely swung my sword in time. Metal clanged like a dinner bell gone mad.
The killer was lightning-quick. Pummeled me back with wild swings.
"Sophia!" Kael popped up, his blade shearing the head clean off.
The body flopped and pooled into black wisps.
"What the—?"
"Shadow tricks," Kael panted. "They're not solid. Puppets yanked by strings from miles away."
"How do we end them?"
"Bag the puppeteer."
One zipped from the left. Two more from the right. We fought shoulder-to-shoulder, moves clicking like we'd rehearsed. Our heart-link made it magic—I knew his next swing before he threw it and covered his blind spots.
That link? It turned us into an unbeatable team.
My rune power sparked, a silver glow sheathing my sword. I slashed the next one—it didn't just fade. It burst in a puff of bad mojo.
"Runes mess their shadow stuff!" I yelled.
"Blast 'em!" Kael parried a sneak from behind. "I'll watch your back—build it up!"
I squeezed my eyes shut for a beat, pulling deep. The swiped moon-rune juice rushed in like an eager pup.
Silver fire exploded from my palms.
I slapped them to the ground. A boom wave rolled out, sweeping the yard like a splash from a bucket.
Every shadow in reach howled. They flickered, wobbling like bad TV signals.
Then—boom. All gone in flashes.
Quiet dropped, broken only by crackling fires. Pack stared at me, jaws on the dirt.
"You… did that?" Helena stammered.
"No clue how," I admitted. My knees buckled like wet noodles. That power surge? Sucked me dry.
Kael scooped me up before I hit the pavement. "Whoa there. I got you."
"The fires—" I mumbled.
"Pack's on it." He scooped me up, away from the stink. "You crash now."
"But—"
"Crash, Sophia. You just saved our hides. Let 'em mop up."
He carried me to the pack house, up creaky stairs to my room. Eased me onto the bed, plunked down beside me.
"That was wild," he said softly. "And scary as heck. You could've fried yourself with that much zap."
"But I didn't."
"Not yet." His jaw tightened. "Promise—no more solo hero stuff without me watching."
"I wasn't solo. Had you."
His look warmed. "Always. You got me forever."
The rush faded. Every muscle screamed. The arm wound pulsed like a bad tooth.
"I'm beat," I whispered.
"Sleep it off. I'll stand guard."
"Don't bail."
"Won't." He tucked hair from my eyes. "Right here."
I fought to stay up—chat plans, plot next moves.
But sleep yanked me under.
Last thing: his lips on my forehead. Feather-light. Sweet.
"Sweet dreams, brave one," he murmured.
For the first time in forever, I felt safe for real.
Moonlight woke me, spilling silver through the window.
The room was dark but for that glow. Kael in the chair by the bed, same spot.
"How long?" My voice scratched like sandpaper.
"Five hours. Nigh on midnight." He leaned in. "Are you okay?"
"Achy. But mending." I propped up slowly. "What went down after?"
"Fires out. Nobody was badly hurt. Snagged a chunk of shadow-killer before it vanished."
"How?"
"Stuck it with a rune-dipped blade." He cracked a grin. "Bit held. Marcus is poking at it."
"Solid. Might track the boss."
"Could be." The grin faded. "But Sophia—they know we got the map. Next round? They'll hit harder."
"Then we bounce first. Northbound, like planned."
"Are you sure? You just drained—"
"Road'll fix me." I swung my legs off the bed. "No sitting. Every day we chill, they edge closer to the Tear."
He eyed me long. Nodded. "Deal. Dawn departure. I'll round up the crew."
He started to rise; I snagged his hand. "Kael. Hold up."
He turned. "Yeah?"
Words jammed. How to spill the mess inside?
Scared spotless. Hated going alone. Him next to me? Only glue holding my bits together.
So I tugged him close instead.
He came easily, perching on the bed's edge. Faces inches apart.
"Sophia…" Voice gravelly.
"Thanks," I breathed. "For all. Believing. Shielding. Just… being."
"Where else?" His palm cradled my cheek. "You're my everything. My why. Two hundred years' wait? Worth every tick."
Heart squeezed. "I'm not good enough."
"You're gold." He inched nearer. "Swear it—I'd hand you the stars if you asked."
"Don't want stars. Want you."
He kissed me. Gentle start, testing waters. But I leaned in, and it heated. Hungry.
Our link blazed—his feelings crashing into mine: ache, worry, love, and want.
Fingers in his hair. Arms round my middle, tugging tight.
We broke for air.
"We should pump the brakes," he said, his grip lingering.
"Should?" I traced his jaw.
"You need shut-eye."
"I need you." Slipped out raw.
Eyes shadowed. "Sophia, don't tease unless it's real."
"It's real." Another kiss, all my sure-fire poured in. "Realest ever."
He rumbled deep. "You're killing me here."
"Good way to go."
"Dawn's coming—"
"Then tonight's ours." I pulled him down.
He held out two heartbeats. Then dove in, kissing like parched earth on rain.
Link throbbed in sync. Lips trailed jaw, neck.
"Sure?" he whispered hot against skin. "This crosses the line—no undo."
"No line. Forward. With you."
Green light.
Hands under shirt, warm on bare. I arched, craving.
"Two centuries," he breathed between nips. "Waited two centuries."
"No more waiting."
We took it slow, tender—linking us like a warm blanket. Each brush, each sigh, each quiet word locked us tighter.
After, tangled skin-to-skin, pulses matching.
"That was…" Words failed.
"Perfect," he supplied. "You're perfect."
I traced chest scars. "Now what?"
"Sleep. Dawn heads north."
"To stop the cult."
"To save 'em all." He tucked me under his chin. "Side by side."
"Side by side," I echoed.
Outside, the moon is full and fierce. Inside his hold, I felt whole at last.
Whatever came next—danger, war, or death—we'd face it side by side.
And that made all the difference.
Dawn came too quickly.
I woke wrapped in Kael's arms, his steady breathing warm against my neck.
For a moment, I let myself just exist in that space—safe, loved, complete.
The mate bond hummed contentedly between us, stronger now after last night.
But reality crashed back in quickly.
We had a journey to prepare for.
A cult to stop.
A world to save.
"You're thinking too loudly," Kael murmured, eyes still closed.