Elara did not wait for permission.
She stepped into Kael's command tent as if it had once belonged to her, because in some ways, it had. Guards stiffened, hands half-raised, then froze when Kael lifted a single finger.
"Leave us."
They hesitated.
"Now."
The tent cleared quickly. Canvas settled. The space felt smaller with just the two of them, thick with things unsaid.
Kael did not turn at first. He stood over a rough map spread across the table, hands braced against the wood, shoulders rigid.
"You rode in with banners," Elara said calmly. "That sends a message."
"It was meant to," Kael replied. His voice stayed controlled. Too controlled.
Elara took another step closer. "To who?"
"To every pack watching," he said. "Including the ones who want what you're protecting."
She laughed softly. Not amused. "You don't get to frame this as strategy after years of silence."
Kael finally turned.
The bond flared instantly. Not pain this time. Recognition. Heat. A pull that made the air feel tight.
Elara felt it too and refused to step back.
"You're here because you're afraid," she said.
Kael's jaw clenched. "I'm here because others are circling."
"They've always circled," Elara shot back. "The difference is that now they see something you abandoned."
Silence fell hard between them.
Kael exhaled slowly. "This was never supposed to happen."
"That's the problem," she said. "You lived your life pretending I wasn't supposed to exist."
His gaze flicked to the tent entrance, then back to her face. "The child complicates everything."
"No," Elara corrected. "The child exposes everything."
She stepped closer until there was barely space to breathe.
"I didn't come here to negotiate," she continued. "I came to ask one thing. And I want the truth."
Kael said nothing.
Elara's voice lowered. "Did our bond ever matter to you?"
The question landed clean. No anger. No accusation. Just truth.
Kael looked away.
That was enough.
But Elara waited.
Minutes stretched. The bond pulsed, restless, demanding honesty neither of them had offered in years.
"It mattered," Kael said finally. "Too much."
Elara's chest tightened despite herself. "Then why did you treat it like a mistake?"
Kael laughed once, bitterly. "Because it was inconvenient."
She recoiled slightly. Not from the word. From how easily it came.
"Inconvenient," she repeated.
"I was young," he said sharply. "The pack was unstable. Elders were watching my every move. You were strong, proud, unwilling to bend."
Elara held his gaze. "So you chose someone who would."
"I chose peace," Kael snapped. "I chose survival."
"And I was the price," she said quietly.
Kael flinched.
"You didn't even reject me," Elara went on. "You erased me. Do you know what that does to a bond?"
"Yes," he said hoarsely. "I feel it every day."
"No," she replied. "You feel regret. That's not the same."
The tent felt too small now. Too full.
Kael ran a hand through his hair. "If I had chosen you, the pack would have torn itself apart."
"And instead," Elara said, "you taught them that power mattered more than truth."
He looked up sharply. "You think Frostveil doesn't watch you now? You think they don't weigh your every move? You're standing where I once stood."
Elara nodded. "The difference is that I don't deny who I am to stand there."
A knock struck the tent pole. Quick. Urgent.
"Alpha," a voice said. "Southern scouts crossed the second marker."
Kael's body tensed. "Hold them. No engagement."
The guard hesitated. "They brought emissaries."
Elara felt the land react. A sharp, warning hum beneath her feet.
"They're testing limits," she said.
"They're hunting leverage," Kael replied.
Their eyes met.
Mira.
Elara's hand curled into a fist. "If you think for one moment I'll let you use her as a shield—"
"I won't," Kael interrupted. "I swear that."
"Your oaths don't mean much to me anymore."
He absorbed that without protest.
"Then let me prove it," he said. "Let me stand between them and her."
Elara shook her head. "You already had that chance."
Kael stepped closer. The bond surged, hot and aching.
"I know," he said. "And I failed."
The honesty in his voice unsettled her more than anger would have.
Outside, horns sounded. Not Frostveil's. Foreign. Sharp.
Elara turned toward the exit. "I won't hide her."
"I didn't ask you to," Kael said. "I asked you to let me help."
She stopped. Did not turn back.
"Help isn't protection if it comes with control," she said.
"I don't want control."
Elara finally faced him again. "Then what do you want?"
Kael's voice dropped. "To stop paying for a choice that broke more than it saved."
Elara studied him. The Alpha who had chosen a crown over a bond. The man who now stood surrounded by consequences.
"You don't get forgiveness because danger arrived," she said. "You earn it by standing still when it would be easier to command."
Kael nodded slowly. "Then tell me where to stand."
Another horn blast. Closer this time.
Elara moved past him, brushing his shoulder. The bond flared violently at the contact, a sharp reminder of what still existed, whether they wanted it to or not.
"Outside," she said. "In front of them. Without your banners."
Kael hesitated only a second before stripping the insignia from his cloak and dropping it to the floor.
They stepped out together.
Frostveil's ridge buzzed with tension. Warriors lined the stone edge. Southern emissaries stood below, too calm, eyes sharp.
Mira stood beside Rowan, utterly still.
Elara felt her heart steady at the sight.
Kael stepped forward first.
"This land is under protection," he announced. "Mine and hers."
One emissary smiled thinly. "Shared rule?"
Elara joined him, voice clear. "No. Shared consequence."
The emissary's gaze flicked between them. "You rejected her claim."
"I rejected nothing," Kael said. "I ignored it."
"And now?"
"And now I answer for it."
The emissary's smile faded.
Elara felt the land rise beneath her feet, responding to her presence, to her refusal to step back.
Mira lifted her chin. "You should leave."
The emissaries stiffened.
Kael glanced at Elara, something unreadable in his eyes.
The bond pulsed, not with longing, but with warning.
This was not over.
Not for the packs.
Not for the child.
And not for the bond that had survived neglect, distance, and silence.
Elara knew one thing with certainty as the southern emissaries began to retreat, eyes promising return.
Whatever came next would demand more than strength.
It would demand a choice neither of them could avoid again.