Chapter 13: The Boarder of wolves

Snow fell in slow, deliberate flakes, each settling silently on the evergreen branches lining the southern border. The air held a stillness so complete it felt like the forest itself was holding its breath.
Alex stood on level ground just beyond the ridge, the frozen wind whispering through her hair. She didn’t hunch against the cold. She didn’t pace. She didn’t shift.
She simply waited.
The Night Fang warriors were positioned behind her—silent, watchful, present. They did not crowd her. They did not shield her.
She didn’t need shielding.
Aeron stood to her right, hands loose at his sides. Not in front of her. Not behind her. Beside her.
Then—snow crunched.
Wolves emerged through the trees.
Six first. Then eight. Then more. They spread in a cautious arc. Trying to form their familiar crescent.
Alex didn’t move.
Didn’t react.
Didn’t give them anything to track.
Silver Moon wolves hesitated.
They expected fear.
Panic.
Retreat.
They found stillness instead.
And stillness was harder to read than rage.
A large ash-gray wolf shifted. Bones cracked, limbs reshaped, fur withdrew. Rex stood there, shirtless in the snow like the cold meant nothing to him.
Alpha posture.
Chin high.
Shoulders squared.
A predator used to dominance.
“Alex.”
Her name was not spoken gently.
Nor angrily.
It was spoken like a command.
She didn’t answer.
Rex’s jaw flexed—the first crack in his confidence.
He took a step forward.
Aeron’s stance changed—not aggressive, but unmistakably intervening. A quiet warning. A line in the snow.
Rex noticed.
His lip curled faintly.
“So. This is where you’ve run to.”
Alex finally spoke.
Her voice was calm.
Cold as the frost underfoot.
Smooth as still water.
“I did not run to anywhere,” she said. “I simply stopped staying where I was not meant to be.”
Not defensive.
Not bitter.
Just truth.
Rex’s eyes flickered.
Confusion.
Then irritation—because he couldn’t read her.
He was used to the girl who flinched.
The girl who lowered her head.
The girl whose voice shook when speaking to him.
This version of Alex was unfamiliar.
Uncomfortable.
A threat.
He tried again.
“You were part of our pack.”
“You were never my pack.”
Her tone didn’t rise. Didn’t sharpen.
She simply placed distance between past and present with the ease of breathing.
Rex stepped closer—slowly, like approaching a wild animal he wasn’t sure of anymore.
“You belonged to Silver Moon,” he insisted.
Aeron spoke then.
Low.
Even.
Unyielding.
“She belongs to herself.”
Rex’s eyes snapped to him.
“And you are?” he asked, voice edged.
Aeron didn’t answer with words.
He let his presence speak.
It was not loud like Rex’s dominance—blunt force and expectation of obedience.
Aeron’s dominance was pressure.
Deep. Ancient. Mountain-heavy.
The Silver Moon wolves shifted restlessly, breath turning sharp.
Rex swallowed once.
But Alex didn’t wait.
“She came here willingly,” Aeron added. “She stays here by choice.”
Rex’s gaze swung back to Alex, narrowing.
“Is that true?” he asked.
Finally—her eyes lifted to meet his.
Not soft.
Not wounded.
Not angry.
Just level.
“It is.”
And for the first time since stepping into the clearing—Rex faltered.
“Why?” The word roughened. “After everything—why leave?”
Alex’s wolf rose behind her eyes.
Her heartbeat slowed.
Her breath steadied.
“There was nothing left to stay for.”
Rex’s chest rose sharply.
“I was your mate.”
“You rejected me.”
The words were not accusation.
Not grief.
Just a statement of historical record.
Rex flinched.
He had expected pain.
He had expected to see the wound he caused still bleeding.
There was nothing.
She continued, voice even:
“I begged you once. I begged for scraps of acknowledgment. For decency. For safety. Not love. Just life.”
The snow whispered quietly between them.
“That girl is gone.”
Rex took a step toward her—instinct, not thought.
Aeron’s fingers twitched once at his side.
Not a threat.
A promise.
Rex froze.
Alex’s expression did not change.
“You don’t get to want me now that someone else sees me.”
Rex’s breath hitched.
Barely noticeable—but Alex caught it.
Because she knew him.
Better than anyone.
“Alex—”
“No.”
The refusal landed like a blade laid on a throat—not cutting.
Just undeniable.
Rex’s jaw clenched. “We came to bring you home.”
Alex stepped forward—not back.
But it wasn’t closeness.
It was confrontation.
“You lost the right to call anything about me home the moment you watched me bleed and walked away.”
Rex’s breath shook.
A crack.
A fracture.
The Silver Moon wolves shifted, uncertain now. Their formation faltered.
She didn’t chase the weakness.
She didn’t need to.
She simply delivered the final truth:
“This is my pack.”
Her wolf surged, golden-fire bright behind her eyes—full, awakened, undeniable.
Aeron’s wolf answered—dark, massive, ancient.
The forest bowed to the shift in power.
Not claimed.
Recognized.
Rex’s wolves lowered their eyes.
Not to Aeron.
To Alex.
Rex felt it.
The moment he ceased to be the center of the room.
His voice broke—just slightly.
“Alex… please.”
She did not soften.
“I do not owe you forgiveness.”
She turned her back to him.
And walked away.
Aeron moved with her.
Not shielding her.
Accompanying her.
As an equal.
Silver Moon did not attack.
Could not.
Because Alex had stopped being prey.
She had become the storm.