Stars cut the sky over Silverpine, casting shards of silver upon dark blue. The pack was subdued now, stretched along the edge of something terrible and marvelous. Warriors had returned to their dens too early. Scouts arrived and departed in pairs. Children had been escorted to the mountains.
Mia sat by herself beneath the Moonstone Tree—the old oak that stood behind the lodge, its white leaves glowing beneath the starlight. This was the heart of the territory. The site that was the most ancient. Where the rituals of the Lunes were performed long ago, where promises were exchanged.
She carried the weight of history at its origin.
This evening, however, there was no promise. No ceremony.
Silence itself.
She regarded her hands--now calloused, stable. The omega who had winced at the sight of herself no longer existed. There was another. A different one. A stronger one. A healing one.
She heard footsteps. She did not turn around. She already knew.
"You always prefer the most remote locations," said Lucas from behind.
"I don't like it when people pretend they are not afraid," Mia said gently.
He moved, slow and measured, and sat down beside her on the grass.
"I am not pretending," he said. "I am afraid."
She looked at him, surprised by the honesty.
"Not of dying," he said. "Of losing all that we are creating. Of losing you before I've had a second chance at you."
She met his gaze. "There was a time when I would've given you everything I had. Without question."
I know.
"And you broke it."
Lucas nodded, assuming the weight of it. "I'd take it back if I could."
"Not anymore," she said. "I don't want you to."
He blinked.
Because otherwise I would never become this version of me. And she is the one I would wish to fight for.
Lucas sighed, as though relief and sadness were all mingled together.
"Then I'll stand beside her," he said. "Not as her mate. Not as Alpha. Just as one who supports her."
They sat together in silence, the moon climbing higher, its pale light filtering through the branches above.
And this time, their connection did not hurt. It hummed—quiet, subtle, but there. Not demanding. Not constricting. Just there.
Like a promise not yet spoken.
_________________________________________________________________________________________________
Across the border, deep within the neutral zone, Viktor Blackridge stood before his gathered army.
Rows of wolves, both outlaw and branded, bowed to him. Around them, weapons reflected the flames. Smoke curled up toward the sky.
"The summit was a mere distraction."
Viktor growled.
"We strike now."
A young wolf stepped forward. Silverpine has prepared. They know you're coming."
Viktor smiled darkly. "Let them."
Reaching into the wooden box, he pulled out a sealed leather pouch. In it, a vial of dark and ancient liquid gleamed.
"Tomorrow, we don't take land," he asserted, waving it high. "We take history. We end the old and build anew from the ashes."
His disciples cried out around him.
And the wind carried the sound up to Silverpine as a warning above them.
_________________________________________________________________________________________________
At dawn,
Mia rose to dress for war.
The moment she landed on the ground, her wolf stirred, taut and ready. She pulled back her hair tight, strapped blades to her back, and pinned on the wolf-bone medallion Ember had given her at bedtime.
She emerged outside to be met by the camp stirring already—warriors armed, mounted scouts, and Lucas issuing final orders.
He turned around as she approached, something unspoken in his eyes.
"This is it," he said.
She nodded. "Let's make it our own then."
They congregated at the ridgeline to the south, where the forest grew thinner and the neutral grounds began.
Above them, the sky was red during the morning.
And on it wafted the scent of blood and metal on the wind.
War had come to Silverpine.