Chapter 13

After the Fall

Jace's POV

Grace's final match lasted exactly two minutes and thirty-seven seconds. I know because I counted every heartbeat, every breath, as I watched her systematically dismantle Thomas Chen like he was made of paper instead of muscle and reputation.

Chen came at her with everything he had—the brutal efficiency that had kept him undefeated for three years. Grace absorbed his initial assault with minimal movement, reading his patterns, cataloging his weaknesses. Then she struck back.

It wasn't even close.

By the end, Chen was unconscious on the ground and Grace stood over him without a scratch, barely breathing hard. The amphitheater erupted in a mixture of cheers and stunned silence as the referee raised her hand.

"Winner and new Alpha-ranked competitor: Grace Silver!"

Alpha Grace Silver. The title hit me like a physical blow. The girl I'd rejected for being weak now held the same rank I did. She was officially my equal in the eyes of every pack in the region.

My own final match passed in a blur of controlled violence. My opponent—a competent Alpha from Eastwind pack—never really stood a chance. I was fighting with the desperate fury of a man watching his entire world reshape itself around him, and I channeled every ounce of that energy into maintaining the rank that was all I had left.

When it was over, when the referee confirmed that I'd retained my Alpha ranking, I felt nothing but emptiness. Victory should have meant something. Instead, all I could think about was the way Grace had moved in that final fight—fluid, lethal, absolutely in control.

The awards ceremony was a formality. Marcus Silver beamed with pride as Grace accepted her Alpha ranking, and I caught the way other pack leaders looked at her—no longer dismissive or curious, but with the respect due to a legitimate threat. She'd earned her place through skill and determination, not bloodline or politics.

Everything I'd always taken for granted, she'd had to fight for.

When the official ceremonies ended, the various packs began to mingle in the reception area outside the amphitheater. It was supposed to be a chance for networking, for strengthening alliances and assessing potential rivals. Instead, I found myself searching the crowd for a glimpse of short dark hair and predator's eyes.

I found her near the refreshment tables, surrounded by a cluster of Alphas and pack leaders who were clearly trying to curry favor with Silver Moon's new power player. She handled their attention with the same cool professionalism she'd shown in the ring—polite, engaging, but maintaining a careful distance that made it clear she wasn't impressed by flattery.

"Quite a transformation," Dad said, appearing beside me with two glasses of the local wine. "I have to admit, I didn't see this coming."

Neither had I. Three years ago, Grace Matthew couldn't string together three words in public without stammering. The woman holding court twenty feet away commanded attention like she'd been born to it.

"She's good," I said, accepting the wine but not drinking it. My throat felt too tight for alcohol.

"She's extraordinary," Dad corrected. "Marcus trained her well, but that kind of natural ability... that's not something you can teach. She had it in her all along."

The implication hung between us like an accusation. I'd had access to that potential for years and had been too blind—too arrogant—to see it.

"I need to talk to her," I said suddenly.

Dad's hand on my arm stopped me from moving. "Son, maybe that's not—"

"I need to talk to her," I repeated, and something in my voice made him release his grip.

I waited until the crowd around Grace thinned slightly, then approached with the careful neutrality of one Alpha greeting another. She noticed me coming—I could tell by the slight tension in her shoulders—but she didn't acknowledge my presence until I was directly in front of her.

"Alpha Storm," she said, her voice politely distant. "Congratulations on maintaining your rank."

The formal tone was like a blade between the ribs. "Alpha Silver," I replied, matching her formality even as it killed me. "Your performance today was... impressive."

"Thank you." She turned slightly, as if preparing to end the conversation and move away.

"Could I have a moment?" I asked quickly. "To speak privately?"

Grace studied me for several heartbeats, her dark eyes giving away nothing. Around us, I could sense other wolves watching our interaction with interest—two young Alphas, one the heir to a major pack, the other a newcomer who'd just announced herself as a force to be reckoned with.

"Of course," she said finally. "There's a balcony through those doors."

She led the way with fluid grace, and I followed, trying not to notice the way other wolves stepped aside for her. She commanded respect now, the kind that had to be earned rather than inherited.

The balcony overlooked the mountain valley below, Silver Moon territory stretching out in the evening light. Grace moved to the stone railing and stood with her back to me, her posture relaxed but alert.

"What did you want to discuss?" she asked without turning around.

I joined her at the railing, maintaining careful distance between us. Up close, the changes in her were even more stark. The soft curves of the girl I'd known were gone, replaced by the lean lines of a trained fighter. Her hands, once soft and delicate, now bore the calluses of weapons practice and hard training.

"I wanted to congratulate you properly," I said. "What you accomplished today... it's remarkable."

"Thank you," she replied, still not looking at me. "Though I'm not sure why my performance would matter to you."

The casual dismissal cut deeper than any insult. "Grace—"

"It's Alpha Silver, please." Now she did turn, and the cool indifference in her eyes made my chest ache. "We're not familiar enough for first names."

The words hit like a physical blow. Three years ago, she'd flinched whenever I'd used her name—usually as a prelude to cruelty. Now she was denying me even that small intimacy.

"You're right," I said carefully. "Alpha Silver. I just... I wanted you to know that I recognize what you've achieved. The strength you've shown, the skill you've developed—"

"Are you surprised?" The question was delivered with surgical precision. "That the pathetic, weak girl you rejected could become something worthwhile?"

"That's not what I meant—"

"Isn't it?" She stepped closer, and I caught her scent—still that intoxicating blend of vanilla and jasmine, but overlaid now with mountain air and the confidence of someone who'd never back down from a fight. "Three years ago, you stood in a cabin and told me I was nothing. That I was weak and worthless and unfit to be anyone's mate."

Each word was delivered with the same controlled precision she'd shown in her fights—calculated for maximum impact. "You were right, in a way. That girl was weak. But she's dead now, and I'm what grew from her ashes."

"Grace, please—"

"Alpha Silver," she corrected sharply. "And no, I won't 'please' anything. You forfeited the right to my consideration the moment you chose lies over truth, pride over justice."

The mate bond I'd severed three years ago was gone, but standing this close to her, I felt an echo of what we'd once shared. Not the mystical connection the Moon Goddess had forged, but something deeper—recognition, attraction, the pull of one strong wolf toward another.

She felt it too. I could see it in the way her pupils dilated slightly, in the almost imperceptible way she swayed toward me before catching herself.

"You feel it," I said quietly. "Whatever this is between us, it's not gone."

"What I feel," she replied, her voice steady despite the faint color in her cheeks, "is the satisfaction of proving you wrong. Nothing more."

But her scent told a different story. Beneath the mountain air and confidence, I caught the faintest trace of something that might have been longing.

"I made a mistake," I said, the words scraping my throat raw. "The biggest mistake of my life. If I could take it back—"

"But you can't." She stepped back, re-establishing the distance between us. "Rejection bonds can't be undone, Jace. Even if they could, why would I want that? I'm stronger without you. Happier without you."

The use of my first name—the first time she'd said it tonight—gave me a flicker of hope. "Are you? Happier?"

For just a moment, something flickered in her eyes. Pain, maybe. Or regret. But it was gone so quickly I might have imagined it.

"What I am," she said quietly, "is free. Free from your judgment, your cruelty, your pack's toxic hierarchy. Free to become everything you said I could never be."

"And what if I said I was wrong? What if I admitted that you're everything I never had the wisdom to see?"

Grace was quiet for a long moment, studying my face in the growing darkness. When she spoke, her voice was softer than it had been all evening.

"Then I would say it's too late. The girl who would have given anything to hear those words is gone. And the woman who stands here now doesn't need your validation."

She moved toward the balcony doors, then paused with her hand on the handle. "Congratulations again on your ranking, Alpha Storm. I'm sure the Storm pack is very proud."

"Grace, wait—"

"Goodbye, Jace."

The door closed behind her with finality, leaving me alone on the balcony with the mountain wind and the bitter taste of everything I'd lost.

But as I stood there in the darkness, replaying every word of our conversation, I couldn't shake the feeling that beneath her perfect indifference, Grace Silver still felt something for the man who'd destroyed her first chance at happiness.

Maybe it was hatred. Maybe it was simply the satisfaction of watching me realize what I'd thrown away.

Or maybe, just maybe, it was something that could be rebuilt from the ashes of what we'd once been.

The thought was probably foolish. Definitely hopeless.

But for the first time in three years, it was also the only thing that felt like hope.