"Frostfang Mountains. There's a temple there. The cult is using it as their base."
Kael and I exchanged glances. We'd been right.
"How many cult members are at the temple?" Kael asked.
"I don't know. Maybe fifty? Perhaps more? They keep their numbers secret."
"What about the Moon's Tear? Have they found it?"
Derek's face went blank with confusion. "The what?"
"Never mind." Kael hit him with the pommel of his sword. Derek crumpled, unconscious.
Marcus was already tying up the other two warriors. "What do we do with them?"
"Leave them," I said. "They'll wake up eventually and report back to Leighton. Let him know we're coming."
"Are you sure that's wise?" Marcus asked.
"No. But I'm tired of running." I looked north.
"If the Cult wants me, they can have me. On my terms."
We left the three warriors tied to trees and continued north.
That night, we made camp in a small cave.
Marcus took first watch, leaving Kael and me alone by the fire.
I pulled out my mother's journal, the leather worn soft from all my reading. There were still pages I hadn't gone through—parts that were too painful, too personal.
But now I needed to know everything.
"Can I see?" Kael asked softly.
I handed it to him. He read silently, firelight flickering across his face.
"Your mother was remarkable," he said finally. "Strong. Brave. Just like you."
"I wish I'd known her better. Really known her, not just the version she showed me."
"She was protecting you. Sometimes love means keeping secrets."
I leaned against his shoulder. "Tell me about your family. Your past. You know everything about me, but I barely know anything about you."
He was quiet for a long time.
"I was born in 1812. My parents were simple farmers in what's now called Montana. I had two brothers and a sister."
"What were they like?"
"Loud. Chaotic. Always getting into trouble." A smile touched his lips. "I was the responsible one. Cleaning up their messes."
"What happened to them?"
The smile faded. "They died. All of them. In the werewolf wars two hundred years ago."
"I'm sorry."
"It was a long time ago. But it still hurts." He stared into the fire. "My youngest brother was only fifteen when he died. He'd just had his first shift. Was so excited to be an actual wolf finally."
"What was his name?"
"Thomas. We called him Tommy." Kael's voice was thick with old grief. "I wasn't there when it happened. I was away, fighting with Aldric's forces. By the time I got home, my whole family was gone. Slaughtered by the Blood Moon Cult."
I took his hand. "Is that why you fought them so hard?"
"Yes. And why I fought Aldric when he wanted to use their methods." He looked at me. "I lost my first family to the cult. I won't lose my second."
"Second family?"
"You. Erica. Even Marcus and the others." His grip tightened on my hand. "You're my family now. The Moon Goddess gave me a second chance, and I won't waste it."
Tears stung my eyes. "Kael…"
"I mean it, Sophia. Whatever happens in those mountains, whatever we face—I'm with you. Until the end."
"Until the end," I echoed.
We sat in silence for a while, watching the fire burn down to embers. His arm wrapped around me, keeping me warm.
"There's more in the journal," I said eventually. "Things my mother wrote about Silvermane's abilities. Powers I didn't know we had."
"Like what?"
"Apparently, we can sense truth. Like… physically feel it when someone lies." I flipped to a marked page. "She wrote that it's how the original Silvermanes led. They couldn't be manipulated because they always knew the truth."
"That's a powerful gift."
"There's more. She says Silvermanes can also share strength with other wolves. Make them temporarily stronger through physical contact."
Kael's expression grew thoughtful. "That could be useful in the fight ahead."
"If I can figure out how to do it." I closed the journal. "My mother made it sound easy, but I don't feel any different."
"Maybe because you haven't needed to use it yet." He brushed a strand of hair behind my ear. "When the time comes, you'll know what to do."
"How can you be so sure?"
"Because I've seen what you're capable of. You survived Leighton's poison. Tamed forbidden magic. Fought shadow assassins. You're stronger than you know."
I wanted to believe him. Wanted to have that kind of faith in myself.
"Thank you," I whispered. "For believing in me."
"Always."
We stayed up late, talking quietly about everything and nothing. He told me stories about his two hundred years of wandering. The places he'd seen, the people he'd met, the near-death experiences that somehow never quite killed him.
I told him about my childhood, the good memories before everything went wrong. Playing in the forests. Learning to shift. My mother's laughter.
As the fire died down to coals, Kael pulled me closer. "We should sleep. Tomorrow will be a hard day."
"I know. But I don't want this moment to end."
"It doesn't have to. Come here."
He lay down, pulling me against his chest. I fit perfectly in his arms, like I was made to be there.
"Better?" he murmured.
"Much better."
Within minutes, his breathing evened out. The mate bond hummed softly, a lullaby I could feel in my bones.
I should've slept too. But my mind kept racing.
Tomorrow we'd get closer to the mountains. Closer to the Cult. Closer to whatever fate awaited us.
However tonight, wrapped in my mate's arms, I let myself feel safe.
Just for a little while longer.
The next morning, Kael woke me before dawn.
"Time to train," he said, already dressed and ready.
I groaned, burrowing deeper into my sleeping bag. "It's still dark."
"Best time to train. Come on." He nudged me with his boot. "We've got two days before we reach the mountains. I need you battle-ready."
"I am battle-ready."
"You have raw power. But you don't know how to use it properly." He crouched beside me. "Sophia, when we face the Cult, they'll be trained fighters enhanced with dark magic. You need to be better than I."
He was right. I knew he was right.
Didn't mean I had to like it.
"Fine." I crawled out of the warm sleeping bag into the cold morning air. "But I'm blaming you if I freeze to death."
"I'll keep you warm." The promise in his voice sent heat through me that had nothing to do with temperature.
Marcus was already up, cooking something that smelled wonderful over the fire. "Morning, Luna. Ready to get your ass kicked?"
"That's the plan, apparently."
We ate quickly—some kind of meat and vegetable stew that Marcus had somehow made delicious with limited supplies. Then Kael led me away from camp to a small clearing by a stream.
Mist rose from the surface, catching the first rays of sunlight.
"It's beautiful," I said.
"And secluded. No one will see us here." Kael set down his pack. "First lesson: control. You have incredible power, but you use it like a hammer when you need a scalpel."
"What's wrong with a hammer?"
"Nothing. Unless you're trying to do delicate work." He pulled out two wooden practice swords. "Your rune magic is wild. Unpredictable. In a real fight, that'll get you killed."
"So what do I do?"
"You learn precision." He tossed me one of the practice swords. "Attack me."
I caught the sword, testing its weight. "Seriously?"
"Seriously. Come at me with everything you've got."
I didn't hold back. I charged forward, swinging the practice blade at his head.
He deflected it easily, barely moving. "Again."
I attacked from a different angle. He blocked it just as effortlessly.
"You're not using your magic," he said.
"You asked me to use a sword—"
"I asked you to attack me. Use everything you have."
I reached for the rune magic, letting it flow through my arms. The practice sword began to glow with silver light.
This time when I struck, the force was enhanced. Stronger. Faster.
Kael blocked it, but I saw him shift his weight. "Better. Again."
We went at it for what felt like hours. Every time I thought I had an opening, he was already moving to counter. Every time I tried a new approach, he adapted instantly.
By the time he called a break, I was drenched in sweat and breathing hard.
"You're holding back," he said, barely winded.
"I'm not—"
"You are. You're afraid of hurting me."
"You're my mate. Of course I would rather not hurt you."
"And what happens when you're fighting someone you need to hurt? Someone trying to kill you?" He stepped closer. "Sophia, you can't afford mercy in battle. Not against the Cult."
"I know that."
"Then show me." He raised his practice sword. "Stop pulling your punches. Fight me like you mean it."
Something in his tone ignited a spark of anger in me. "Fine. Don't blame me when I actually hit you."
"I won't."
This time, I didn't just attack. I poured my rage into it—rage at Leighton, at the Cult, at everything that had been taken from me.
The practice sword blazed with silver fire. When it connected with Kael's blade, the impact sent shockwaves through the clearing. Water from the stream splashed up, and leaves scattered.
Kael's eyes widened. "There we go. That's what I wanted to see."
We fought for real after that. He still blocked most of my strikes, but now he had to work for it. Had to really move, really counter.
And slowly, I started to see the patterns. Started to anticipate his movements.
When I finally landed a solid hit to his ribs, he actually grunted in surprise.
"Good," he said, rubbing the spot. "That'll bruise."
"Sorry—"
"Don't apologize. You did exactly what you needed to do." He smiled, pride clear in his expression. "Now do it again."
We trained until the sun was high overhead. By then, I could barely lift my arms.
"Enough," Kael finally said. "Let's work on your magic control."
"Can we take a break first?"
"Five minutes."
I collapsed by the stream, splashing cold water on my face. My muscles screamed in protest. The wound on my arm throbbed.
Kael sat beside me, close enough that our shoulders touched. "You're doing well. Better than I expected."
"I feel like I'm dying."
"That means you're improving." He handed me a water skin. "Drink. Then we start the real work."
"That wasn't the real work?"
"That was just warming up."
I groaned.
After I'd recovered enough to stand, Kael moved behind me. "Close your eyes. Feel your magic. Where is it right now?"
I reached inward. The rune magic was there, crackling like electricity under my skin. "Everywhere."
"That's the problem. It's unfocused. Scattered." His hands settled on my shoulders. "You need to gather it. Pull it all into one place."
His touch sent sparks through the mate bond. I could feel his presence, warm and steady, behind me.
"Concentrate," he mumbled. "Breathe. And pull the magic to your core."
I tried. But with his hands on my shoulders and the bond humming between us, concentration was difficult.
"I can't. You're distracting me."
"Then learn to focus through distractions." His voice was right by my ear now. "In an actual fight, there will be noise, pain, and fear. You need to use your magic despite all of that."
He was right. But knowing that didn't make it easier when his breath was warm on my neck.
I took a deep breath and tried again. This time, I imagined the scattered magic as silver threads. One by one, I gathered them, pulling them toward my center.
It was hard. Like trying to herd cats. But slowly, gradually, they came together.
"Good," Kael murmured. "Now hold it there. Don't let it scatter again."
The magic wanted to spread out again. It took constant effort to keep it contained.
"How long do I have to hold it?"