Chapter Twenty One - Next ( Kael's POV)

The first pale threads of dawn unraveled across the cracks in the cabin walls, bleeding gray light into the gloom. The fire had burned low, embers glowing like tired eyes, and the air held the metallic tang of steel sharpened too long into the night. My muscles ached, my mind frayed, but sleep had not touched me. Not really. How could it, when every heartbeat carried the weight of prophecy, every breath the fear of what hunted us?

Kael stood near the door, his back to me, his silhouette framed by the dim light. His body was still, but the tension in his shoulders screamed of the storm inside him. Darius had not moved from his post either. He remained a statue by the window, blade across his knees, his eyes locked on the forest beyond. Both men radiated the same restless energy, like wolves pacing their cages, though their tempers burned in different directions.

I drew the blanket tighter around myself and the child within me. My voice came softly, breaking the silence like fragile glass. “You both feel it too, don’t you? That it’s already begun.”

Kael turned slightly, enough that the light touched his eyes. Golden fire. “It began the moment they came for you,” he said. “And it won’t end until one of us is ash.”

Darius’s tone was colder, pragmatic. “War doesn’t need to be rushed. Recklessness only feeds the Council what it wants. If we strike, we strike with precision, not anger.”

Kael bristled, the muscles in his jaw flexing. “You think I don’t know that? You think this is just fury?” His hand curled into a fist, knuckles white. “They nearly touched her. They nearly touched what’s mine. You expect me to sit idle and count strategies while they prepare their next move?”

“I expect you,” Darius replied evenly, “to act like an Alpha, not a desperate lover.”

The air between them snapped taut, like a bowstring pulled too far. My breath caught, my hand instinctively pressing to my belly as if to shield the child from the sharpness of their words. Kael’s growl rumbled low, feral, his dominance flaring like a storm ready to break. Darius didn’t flinch. His stillness was its own challenge, his calm an unyielding wall against Kael’s fire.

Before the clash could ignite, I forced my voice into the fray. “Enough.”

Both men looked at me. Kael’s fury softened at once, though it didn’t vanish. Darius’s gaze was steadier, unreadable, but the faintest flicker of respect passed through it. For a heartbeat, the silence belonged to me.

“We don’t have the luxury of tearing at each other,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “The Council already wins if we do that. If this child is truly what they believe, then our bond, our unity, is the only thing that stands in their way. Not Kael’s strength. Not Darius’s blade. Us. Together.”

Kael came to me in three strides, crouching at my side, his hand cupping mine over my stomach. His breath trembled, though his body still burned with heat. “I can’t stand the thought of losing either of you,” he admitted, raw, unguarded. “But you’re right. I can’t fight both them and him.” His chin jerked toward Darius, though his eyes never left mine.

Darius sheathed his knife, pushing to his feet. “Then let’s speak of what comes next.” He crossed the room and drew a rough map in the dust on the floor with the tip of his blade. “Here. The ruin we left. Here. This cabin. And here.. ” He slashed a line deeper into the forest. “An outpost the Council favors. Small, but fortified. If we want to strike, this is where it begins.”

Kael’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know they’ll use it?”

“Because I once did,” Darius said, and for the first time, I saw the shadow of something darker cross his expression. Regret. Memory. “I’ve stood in that outpost with them. Drunk their wine. Planned hunts on wolves just like us. They’ll expect safety there. They won’t expect us.”

Silence stretched, broken only by the soft crackle of the dying fire. Kael’s stare was heavy on him, weighing his words. Trust was a currency too scarce between them, and yet in this moment, it was all we had.

I leaned forward, tracing the crude map with my fingers. “If we attack, we have to be sure it’s worth the risk. We can’t fight a battle that leaves us weaker than before. Not with the Council watching for weakness.”

Kael covered my hand with his, his eyes burning into mine. “And what would you have us do, Aria? Run until there’s nowhere left? Hide until they come knocking again? No. You said it yourself last night, we can’t keep running. If we bleed, then so will they.”

The child fluttered beneath my palm, as if echoing his words. I drew in a sharp breath, not from fear but from certainty. Something inside me, something deeper than my own thoughts, whispered that Kael was right. That this was no longer a flight to survive. It was the first step toward war.

I nodded slowly. “Then we go. But not blindly. We need to be more than wolves lashing out. We need to be sharper than the Council expects.”

Kael’s mouth curved in that dark, approving way that both unnerved and steadied me. “Spoken like a true mate.”

Darius inclined his head, his voice low. “Dawn gives us the cover of fog. If we move before the sun burns it away, we can reach the outpost unseen.”

Kael rose to his full height, towering over the both of us, Alpha energy radiating from every line of him. “Then it’s settled. We strike at dawn.”

The rest of the morning passed in silence and preparation. Kael stripped down the cabin for anything useful, broken boards sharpened into crude stakes, strips of cloth tied into bindings. Darius packed what little food remained, dried roots and stale bread, his movements precise, efficient. I moved among them, slower, but not useless. I gathered water from a stream out back, wrapped the bundle of herbs I’d found in cloth, checked the knots on the packs until my fingers stung. Every task was a thread in the fragile fabric of hope we were weaving.

By the time the first true light of day spilled across the forest floor, we were ready. Kael slung the packs over his broad shoulders, his body a wall of muscle and determination. Darius adjusted the strap of his blade, his eyes sharp, already watching the path ahead. I stood between them, my hand pressed over the life inside me, my heart pounding not just with fear but with resolve.

For the first time since this nightmare began, I wasn’t just running. I was choosing to stand.

Kael glanced back at me as he pushed open the cabin door. “Stay close,” he murmured, softer than his usual commands. “Always.”

I nodded, stepping into the misty dawn at his side. The forest stretched before us, hushed, cloaked in gray. Every tree seemed to hold its breath, every shadow a secret. We moved as one, the three of us slipping into the wilderness, toward whatever waited beyond.

And then.

The crack of a branch. The faint whisper of movement in the fog. Too deliberate to be the forest. Too close.

Darius’s hand went to his blade in an instant. Kael shifted, his body shielding mine before I could even gasp. His golden eyes flared, sharp as steel.

“They’ve found us,” he growled.

The forest held its silence, but it was no longer empty.

We weren’t alone.