Chapter 37: The Uncle

The young wolf's words hung in the air like smoke.

"Too late for what?" I demanded, my hand still in Cengiz's, my heart suddenly pounding.

The girl—Ayşe—opened her mouth to answer, but Cengiz cut her off with a sharp gesture. "Not here. Not now."

"Ammo," Ayşe said, and the word meant uncle, I realized. "They need to know."

"They need to rest." Cengiz's voice was firm, the voice of an Alpha who was used to being obeyed. "We'll talk in the morning. When everyone has slept. When we've had time to think."

Ayşe looked like she wanted to argue, but something in Cengiz's expression stopped her. She bowed her head and stepped back, disappearing into the circle of wolves.

Cengiz turned back to me, his green eyes softer now. "I'm sorry. Ayşe is young. She forgets that not everything needs to be said at once."

"What does she know?" I asked. "What did the Watcher show me that you're afraid to say out loud?"

Cengiz was quiet for a long moment. Then he sighed. "The Watcher shows many things. Truths. Possibilities. Paths that might be taken." He looked at me, and there was something in his eyes that might have been fear. "It showed you what you could become. What you might have to become, if the packs are to survive."

"And what is that?"

He shook his head. "Not tonight. Tonight, you rest. You heal. You let the new bond settle." He glanced at Stellan, who hadn't moved from my side, hadn't relaxed for an instant. "Your mate will keep you safe. I can see that."

Stellan's hand tightened on mine. "I will."

Cengiz nodded slowly. "Good." He looked back at me, and for a moment, he looked like he wanted to say something else. Then he smiled—a tired, sad smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Welcome to the family, Lyra. I wish it could have been under better circumstances."

He turned and walked away, his wolves falling in behind him, melting into the darkness as silently as they'd come.

And then we were alone again.

---

Stellan didn't relax until the last of the Bozkurt wolves had disappeared.

"You don't trust him," I said.

"I don't trust anyone who shows up in the middle of the night with a story about family." He pulled me closer, his arms wrapping around me. "But he's not wrong about one thing. You need to rest."

"I need answers."

"You need sleep." He guided me back toward the furs, easing me down onto them. "The answers will still be there in the morning."

I wanted to argue, but he was right. I was exhausted—bone-deep, soul-deep exhausted. The battle, the bond-breaking, the appearance of wolves who claimed to be family... it was too much. My mind was spinning, trying to process everything, and I couldn't. I just couldn't.

I let Stellan pull me down beside him, let his arms wrap around me, let his warmth seep into my bones.

"He said my father gave him the pendant," I murmured, my eyes already closing. "Before he left. Before I was born."

"Then maybe he's telling the truth."

"But why now? Why not find me sooner?"

Stellan was quiet for a moment. Then: "Maybe he couldn't. Maybe he was looking, and just found you. Or maybe..." He hesitated.

"Maybe what?"

"Maybe he was waiting. For the prophecy to unfold. For you to become what you were meant to be."

I opened my eyes, looking up at him. "You think he's using me."

"I think everyone is using you. The prophecy, the Watcher, Rourke—they all want something from you." His voice was fierce. "But I don't care what they want. I care what you want. Who you want to be."

I reached up and touched his face, tracing the line of his jaw. "I want to be with you. That's all I've ever wanted, since the river."

He kissed me—soft and sweet and full of promise. "Then that's who you'll be. My mate. My Luna. My everything."

I closed my eyes, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I slept.

---

I woke to voices.

Low, urgent, arguing. I kept my eyes closed, listening, letting the words wash over me.

"—should have told her last night."

"She wasn't ready. She'd just broken the bond. She needed time."

"She doesn't have time. None of us do."

"She's half-blood. She's stronger than you think."

"Strong enough to face what's coming? Strong enough to—"

"She's strong enough." Stellan's voice cut through the others, sharp and final. "I've seen her fight. I've seen her survive. I've seen her choose love over fear, again and again. She's stronger than all of us."

There was silence. Then Cengiz's voice, softer now: "You really believe that."

"I know it."

I opened my eyes.

I was alone in the furs, but not alone in the clearing. Stellan stood at the edge of the firelight, facing Cengiz and a handful of Bozkurt wolves. Ayşe was there too, her dark eyes fixed on Stellan with that same unsettling intensity.

I sat up, and they all turned to look at me.

"Lyra." Stellan was at my side in an instant, his hand finding mine. "You should rest—"

"I've rested." I looked at Cengiz. "Tell me. About my father. About why you're here. About what the Watcher showed me that you're so afraid to say."

Cengiz held my gaze for a long moment. Then he nodded slowly.

"Your father—my brother—was named Kaya. He was Alpha of the Bozkurt Pack before me. Strong, fierce, respected by everyone who knew him." Cengiz's voice was soft, distant, as if he was seeing something far away. "And then he met your mother."

He smiled, and for a moment, I saw the brother he'd lost. "She was American. Half-blood herself, though she didn't use that word. She was traveling through our territory with her family, and Kaya saw her, and that was it. He was lost."

"What happened?"

"He wanted to leave the pack. Marry her. Start a new life. The pack elders wouldn't allow it—an Alpha couldn't just abandon his duties, they said. So he did it anyway. He gave up everything—his rank, his home, his family—for her." Cengiz's eyes met mine. "He came to me the night before he left. He gave me the pendant, and he said: 'If anything happens to me, find my daughter. Protect her. Give her a home.'"

"Then why didn't you?" The words came out harsher than I intended, but I couldn't stop them. "He died when I was sixteen. I spent six years alone, rejected, running. Where were you?"

Cengiz flinched. "I was looking. But your father was good at hiding. He'd spent years covering his tracks, making sure the pack couldn't find him. By the time I tracked him down, he was already gone. And you..." He shook his head. "You were already running."

I stared at him, the anger in my chest warring with something that might have been understanding.

"I'm here now," Cengiz said quietly. "I'm not leaving. Whatever you need—whatever you choose—I'll be there."

I wanted to be angry. I wanted to scream at him for all the years I'd spent alone, all the nights I'd cried myself to sleep, all the times I'd begged the moon to give me someone, anyone, who would stay.

But looking at him—at his green eyes, so like mine, at the pendant still warm in my hand—I couldn't.

"Why now?" I asked instead. "Why not wait until Rourke is defeated? Why come in the middle of a war?"

Cengiz's expression shifted, something dark passing through his eyes. "Because the war is not the only danger. Because Rourke is not the only one who wants you." He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "The Watcher is waking, Lyra. And when it wakes fully, it will want something from you. Something that you may not be able to give."

"And what's that?"

He didn't answer. He just looked at me with those sad, familiar eyes, and I understood.

He didn't know. Or he knew, and he was afraid to say.

"Ronan is still out there," Cengiz said finally. "His army is regrouping. And when he comes back—"

"Let him come." Stellan's voice was cold, certain. "We'll be ready."

"Will you?" Cengiz looked at him. "You barely survived the last battle. Your pack is wounded, scattered. And my wolves..." He glanced at Ayşe, at the others. "My wolves are not united. Half of them want to fight with you. Half of them want to fight for Rourke. And the rest..." He shook his head. "The rest are waiting to see what the half-blood chooses."

I stepped forward, away from Stellan's protective arm. "What does that mean? What am I supposed to choose?"

Cengiz looked at me, and in his eyes, I saw something I hadn't expected: fear.

"The prophecy says a half-blood will unite the packs or destroy them," he said. "But it doesn't say how. It doesn't say what that half-blood has to become." He took a breath. "The Watcher showed you, Lyra. It showed you what you could be. What you might have to be, to save everyone."

I thought of the temple. The darkness. The whispers. The chain breaking, and something else beginning.

"I saw things," I said slowly. "Paths. Possibilities."

"And one of those paths—" Cengiz's voice cracked. "One of those paths leads to you becoming something more than wolf. Something older. Something that can't be killed, can't be stopped, can't be—"

"Enough." Stellan's voice was sharp, cutting through the tension like a blade. "Whatever she saw, whatever she might become—that's her choice. Not yours. Not the Watcher's. Hers."

He looked at me, and through the bond, I felt his love, his fear, his unwavering faith.

*Whatever you choose,* he said, *I'm with you.*

I looked back at Cengiz. At the wolves behind him, waiting. At Ayşe, her young face tight with something that might have been hope.

"I'm not choosing anything tonight," I said. "Tonight, I'm going to rest. I'm going to heal. I'm going to let this bond settle." I touched my chest, where the new bond pulsed warm and steady. "Tomorrow, we fight. We protect this pack. We protect each other. And when Rourke is defeated, when the war is over, then... then I'll think about prophecies. About paths. About what I might become."

Cengiz stared at me for a long moment. Then, slowly, he smiled.

"You really are your father's daughter," he said.

I didn't answer. I just turned and walked back to the furs, Stellan's hand in mine, the pendant warm against my skin.

Behind me, I heard Cengiz giving orders, his wolves dispersing, the camp settling into the quiet rhythm of the night.

But I wasn't thinking about any of that.

I was thinking about the Watcher. About the darkness in the temple. About the path it had shown me, the one where I became something more than wolf.

Something that could save everyone.

Something that might not be able to come back.