Elena’s POVThe air smelled like ash and new rain.The war was over, but in its place sat something just as delicate: reconstruction. Rebirth. The forging of a future from broken walls, fractured loyalties, and the raw, exhausted hope of a people who had forgotten what peace felt like.I stood at the head of the meeting table—the same stone circle where, years ago, the Moirea elders had once debated how to survive. Only now, the table held more than Moirea's voices.Half of the chairs belonged to Lykan’s rebels: forest scouts, lowland alphas, and clan leaders who had chosen to fight instead of kneel. The other half belonged to the Moirea council. The survivors.And me?I stood between them.Not as a queen. Not yet.Just as the one who lit the match.“Food lines will need to be rotated through the southern farms,” Lykan was saying, fingers tracing lines across a rough map. “Our stores can support the Moirea families for the next two moons, but after that—”“We’ll need to start hunting
Lykan’s POV Cael wouldn’t stop following me. At first, I thought he was just being cautious clinging to Elena, not trusting anyone but her. But the moment he saw me sharpen a blade outside the camp walls, he pulled a stool right up beside me and sat. I didn’t say a word; just watched, arms crossed, big eyes wide. And when I looked at him, he looked away quickly like he hadn’t been staring the whole time. Now, an hour later, he was still there. Kicking his legs gently under the stool. Humming a soft, off-key tune, I recognized as the lullaby Elena sang him. I wiped the blade clean with an old cloth, setting it aside. “You know this isn’t the fun part, right?” He shrugged. “You like swords?” Cael nodded slowly. “They’re cool.” I smirked. “Ever held one?” “Not allowed,” he said, too quickly. Something in that answer made my chest twist. “Well,” I said, rising, “you’re not there anymore.” He perked up as I moved to my training rack and pulled out a dulled short practice bla
Elena pov The war was over.But peace?Peace was a choice we still had to make.The fires in the courtyard were down to embers. The dead had been buried. The wounded were healing. But what came next… hanging over all of us like a second battle waiting to happen.Moirea survivors lined the eastern wall mothers, warriors, children, and healers. Some of them were faces I knew. Others were strangers with eyes on mine. Eyes that had seen too much.I stood beside Lykan, staring at what was left of Kairos’s empire.His people—the remnants of the rebellion, wolves from the lowlands and the forest edges—moved in and out of the ruins with purpose. They’d begun repairing the castle’s outer rings, gathering supplies, and salvaging weapons.But they were watching the Moirea.And the Moirea were watching them.A silent tension clung to every movement. We were allies… but only just.“They’re afraid,” I murmured.“Both sides,” Lykan agreed.He stood close, arms folded, eyes sharp. Always reading the
Elena’s POV The air was thick and stale , where I found him. The underground room had protected him from flames and chaos, but not from the cold or the dust, or the weight of being alone. He was burning up now, sweaty, pale, breathing too fast. His body was too small for all the fear it had carried. I needed a healer. I had to get him out of here. Cradling Cael in my arms, I slipped back into the corridor, careful not to draw attention. The castle had quieted slightly. The sounds of battle faded, replaced by the creak of victory and smoke settling into ash. I stepped into the courtyard, the early dawn light streaking through broken towers and crumbling pillars. “Healer!” I called, my voice was sharper than I intended. “I need a healer now!” A rebel soldier turned. Then another. They moved quickly at the sight of Cael, limp and trembling in my arms. “He’s burning up,” I told the woman who arrived with a pack slung over her shoulder. She placed a hand on his forehead and then
Elena pov Smoke still curled in the sky, but the heart was gone. The fire had been lit. The witch was free. And yet my own heart was beating wildly. Cael. Where was he? I turned toward the courtyard where I last saw him before the fire. But the space was a wasteland now ash, broken stone, blood. No sign of him. Not his voice. Not his scent. Not his small footprints. My gut twisted. He wasn’t with the nobles who fled. He wasn’t in the prince’s chambers when we passed through. Not in the hallways. Not near the eastern tower where the nursery was. I asked three different rebel soldiers. “Have you seen a boy? Small. White hair. Big eyes. His name is Cael. He’s the Alpha’s son, please!” But they all shook their heads. “No children came through.” No children. None. Panic slammed into my chest like a wall. “He was supposed to be evacuated,” I whispered, pushing past them, searching blindly. “He always hides when there’s danger. Maybe he’s hiding…” “Hey!” Lykan called, jo
Elena’s POVHis arms were around me before I could even breathe. My body sank into his chest like it belonged there because it did.Warm. Solid. Real.I buried my face in the crook of his neck, and for a second, the world stopped spinning.His lips met mine like a promise.A desperate, lingering kiss that tasted like smoke and blood and relief. “You’re insane,” Lykan whispered into my hair. “Absolutely insane.”“You love me anyway,” I replied, still breathless, still shaking.He chuckled a short, raw sound. “I love you because of it.”We didn’t have time to stand still. Not now. Not here.But gods, I wanted to.I wanted to stay wrapped in his arms until the sun came up. I wanted to remain in his arms and shut out the world. I just wanted to be with him. But the shadows of the war still lingered The skies still glowed red from the smoke and flame.And Kairos was still out there.Wounded. Hiding. Dangerous. And he was dead. “I got the scroll,” I told him, pulling it from the pouch