Chapter Twenty - Shadows In the Cabin ( Kael's POV )

The cabin held a silence that wasn’t peace. It was the silence of aftermath, of blood still wet on the ground we’d left behind, of fire still burning in memory even though we had outrun its smoke. My lungs ached with every breath, as if the forest itself had lodged inside me. The ruin was gone, but its ghosts clung to my skin.

Kael moved with the coiled tension of a wolf who could not rest. His bare chest glistened with soot and sweat, muscles cut by the shadows from the crackling lantern Darius had found on a shelf. His golden eyes never softened, never lost that edge of violence, scanning every corner of the cabin as though the hunters might slip through the walls.

“Sit,” he ordered when I tried to stand, my knees still shaking.

I bristled at his tone, but the truth was my legs wouldn’t hold me for long. I sank back onto the floorboards, cradling my belly. The child fluttered inside me, as if unsettled by the storm of fear and adrenaline coursing through my blood.

Darius wiped his blade clean with a strip of cloth torn from his sleeve, his expression carved in stone. He hadn’t spoken since we entered, but his presence filled the room like a sentinel. His eyes flicked toward me only once, something unspoken flashing there, concern, maybe even guilt, but he said nothing.

It was Kael who broke the silence.

“They knew where to find us.” His voice was low, but every syllable vibrated with fury. “They didn’t just stumble on that ruin. The Council is tracking us.”

My heart stuttered. “How? We left no trail, Kael. You’ve been careful.”

“Careful isn’t enough anymore.” He turned, running a bloodstained hand through his hair. The lantern light caught the crimson streaks across his knuckles, a reminder of how close death had pressed tonight. “Someone is feeding them information. A leak. A traitor.”

Darius straightened from the wall, his voice rough. “It doesn’t matter how they found us, it matters that they failed. You bought us time, Kael. We use it.”

Kael’s gaze cut to him, sharp as a blade. “Time isn’t enough. They’ll keep coming until either I’m dead, or she is.” His eyes flicked to me, and something primal passed between us. Possession, yes, but also a kind of desperation that dug its claws into my heart.

The fire popped in the hearth where Darius had coaxed weak flames from damp wood. Shadows danced across the walls. I pulled the threadbare blanket tighter around my shoulders, shivering though the cabin was warming.

“Kael…” My voice came out softer than I meant it to. “We can’t run forever.”

His jaw clenched. “I know.”

For the first time since the ruin, the Alpha’s mask slipped, and I saw the man underneath. Tired. Wounded. Bleeding in ways no bandage could touch. He sank to his knees before me, his hands hovering at my sides as if afraid to touch, afraid to break me.

“I nearly lost you tonight.” His voice cracked, a rare fracture in the armor of command. “I swore I’d never let them lay a hand on you. And still…” His eyes dropped to my belly. “Still, they almost did.”

I reached for him, fingers brushing his soot-streaked cheek. His skin burned hot beneath my touch. “You didn’t fail us, Kael. We’re here. We’re alive because of you.”

His eyes closed, just for a moment, as though my words poured water over fire. When he opened them again, they blazed with renewed intensity. He took my hand, pressing it firmly against his chest where his heart thundered. “If they come again, I’ll tear the world apart before I let them near you.”

Darius cleared his throat, dragging us both back to the harshness of reality. “We can’t hole up here long. This cabin is a stopgap, not a sanctuary. By dawn, we need a plan.”

Kael reluctantly pulled back, though his hand lingered on mine before he rose to his feet. His gaze raked over Darius, measuring. “You’ve fought by my side. I trust your blade. But the Council isn’t after me alone. You know what they want.”

Darius’s expression didn’t shift, but his silence was answer enough.

“The child,” I whispered. The word felt like a stone dropped into still water, rippling outward.

Darius finally looked at me. His eyes weren’t cruel, but there was no softness in them either. “The First Alpha’s blood. Prophecy reborn. To the Council, that child isn’t yours, Aria, it’s theirs. A weapon. A claim to power. They’ll hunt you until either they hold it, or it’s buried in the ground.”

Cold swept through me, though the fire burned hotter. My arms wrapped protectively over my belly. “They can’t have my child.”

Something flickered in Darius’s gaze, agreement, maybe, or regret. “Then you’d better be ready to fight for it.”

Kael’s snarl vibrated through the cabin, low and deadly. “She won’t fight. I will. Anyone who lays a finger on what’s mine will pay in blood.”

The silence stretched after his words, heavy with unspoken truths.

I should have been afraid of that feral promise. Instead, I found comfort in it. Kael’s fury wasn’t just rage, it was devotion sharpened into a weapon.

The hours dragged as we worked. Darius checked the perimeter, laying crude traps of sharpened branches and tripwire. Kael barred the door with a broken beam he wrenched from the loft. I gathered what scraps I could find, old cloth for bedding, a rusted pot for water, anything that might give us a chance at survival if the hunters returned.

But no amount of preparation could erase the smell of smoke still clinging to our clothes, or the phantom sound of arrows splitting the air.

When the tasks were done, the three of us huddled near the fire. Darius kept his post by the window, blade across his knees. Kael settled beside me, his body warm, solid, a shield even in stillness. My head rested against his shoulder, exhaustion pulling at my eyelids.

Yet sleep didn’t come easy. Shadows whispered through the cracks in the cabin, every creak of wood a warning, every gust of wind a phantom footstep.

I stirred, shifting restlessly. Kael’s arm tightened around me.

“Rest,” he murmured, voice softer now, stripped of Alpha command.

“I can’t,” I whispered. “What if they find us again? What if..”

He cut me off with a kiss, sudden and searing, his lips rough but desperate against mine. The taste of smoke still lingered on him, but beneath it was something raw, alive. His hand cupped the back of my neck, holding me as though letting go would mean losing me forever.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against mine. “They won’t take you. Not while I breathe. Not while I live. That’s my vow.”

The firelight carved his face into something both savage and beautiful, and for the first time since the ruin collapsed, I let myself believe him.

Darius’s voice broke the fragile moment. “Dawn will come soon. Decide now, do we keep running, or do we strike first?”

Kael’s eyes flicked to mine, and for once, he didn’t answer immediately. He let the choice hang in the air, waiting for me to speak.

Because this wasn’t just his war anymore. It was mine. Ours.

I drew in a shaky breath, feeling the child stir again within me, as though echoing the gravity of the moment. My hand found Kael’s, lacing our fingers together.

“We can’t keep running,” I whispered. “Not forever. If they want to take this child, then we make them bleed for every step.”

Kael’s lips curved, not in a smile but in something darker. Approval. Agreement. His eyes burned with the fire of an Alpha who had finally found his war.

Darius nodded once, grim and resolute. “Then we prepare for it. Because the Council won’t stop until one of us is in the ground.”

The flames in the hearth crackled, casting long shadows against the cabin walls. For a heartbeat, the three of us sat in silence, bound by a choice that would shape not just our fates, but the fate of the prophecy stirring inside me.

Kael squeezed my hand, his voice a whisper meant only for me. “We’ll survive this, Aria. You, me, and our heir. No Council, no prophecy, no war will take that from us.”

And though fear gnawed at the edges of my heart, I clung to his vow as the night stretched on, because it was the only light left in the darkness surrounding us.