Chapter 79: The Calm Before the Second Storm

The golden glow of morning bathed the forest, turning dew-covered leaves into diamonds. Serena lay with her head on Elias’s chest, their breathing in quiet rhythm, matching the soft heartbeat that echoed beneath her ear.

It was the first time in weeks that peace didn’t feel like a fleeting illusion.

But it wouldn’t last.

She could feel it in the wind—unsettled, whispering. The magic that hummed around her wasn’t at rest. It was gathering.

Elias traced lazy circles on her arm. “If I could freeze this moment, I would.”

“I’d be annoyed,” she replied, smiling. “I’d get bored.”

He laughed, but his gaze was serious. “Even now, you’re restless?”

“No,” she admitted, lifting her head to look at him. “But I know it’s not over. I can’t pretend it is.”

Their bond pulsed—stronger now, clearer. She felt every thrum of his concern, every flicker of his desire, and the burden of leadership he constantly tried to carry alone.

She rested her palm on his chest. “You don’t have to do it all.”

“I’m the Alpha King.”

“And I’m your mate,” she said. “We share everything. Even the weight.”

He leaned forward, brushing her lips with his. “You’ve already given more than you should.”

“And I’d do it again.”

Their kiss deepened, mouths moving with the rhythm of old longing and new hope. Her fingers gripped the fabric of his shirt, tugging him closer. The fire between them reignited, slow and smoldering.

But before the moment could melt completely into passion, a rustle of footsteps reached them.

Elias pulled back, growling low. Serena sat up, tension creeping into her spine.

Theron appeared between the trees, holding up his hands. “Don’t bite my head off. We’ve got something.”

Elias stood, helping Serena to her feet. “What is it?”

Theron’s usual smirk was absent. “You need to see it for yourself.”

They followed him through the woods, back toward camp. But even from a distance, they could hear the rising noise: shouting, urgent voices, and the unmistakable growl of unrest.

As they broke through the tree line, Serena stopped short.

Dozens of wolves—some in human form, others partially shifted—had gathered near the council stones. Their faces were drawn with fear. At the center stood Kael, holding a glowing crystal.

Elias pushed forward. “Report.”

Kael handed him the crystal. “We intercepted this from the eastern border. The watchtower was attacked.”

Serena’s eyes widened. “By Zevrin?”

Kael shook his head. “No. Something else. Something worse.”

The crystal pulsed, and a projection shimmered into the air—a recording from the tower’s last moments.

Shadows moved unnaturally fast across the screen, eyes glowing violet. Their claws ripped through the watchmen like paper. One of them turned to the camera—its face a grotesque fusion of wolf and wraith, mouth dripping black ichor.

Serena inhaled sharply. “That’s not a rogue. That’s something else entirely.”

Kael nodded grimly. “Some of the guards survived. They say it moved like a pack but had no scent.”

Elias turned to Serena. “Your seal might have fractured something. This could be a creature trapped between dimensions.”

“Or worse,” she said quietly. “Something Zevrin created before we closed the veil.”

Theron crossed his arms. “If he has soldiers like that now, we’re screwed.”

“No,” Serena said, fire creeping into her voice. “We’re not. We faced death, darkness, betrayal—and we’re still standing.”

She turned to the gathered wolves.

“This is not the end. This is the test before our rise.”

Her voice rang out, clear and commanding. She no longer felt like the girl who’d run from her past. She was a queen standing in her fire.

“We will defend every inch of our realm. And if Zevrin thinks we’ll break, he hasn’t met the full strength of a bonded Alpha pair.”

The crowd stirred, their growls of agreement rising.

Beside her, Elias stared—not just with admiration but with something deeper. Reverence. Love.

Later that night, when the crowd dispersed and preparations began, Serena and Elias slipped into the command tent. The air was thick with tension.

Elias slammed a dagger onto the table. “We need to prepare for war.”

“No,” Serena said. “We need to prepare for survival.”

Their eyes locked.

He moved to her in two strides, his hands bracing her face. “You amaze me.”

Her voice was soft. “We might not have time.”

“Then we take the time we do have.”

He kissed her again—this time deeper, more urgent. His lips moved over hers like a man desperate to memorize every curve, every sound.

Serena responded in kind, unbuckling the armor from his chest, her fingers trembling not with fear, but with want.

“You’re shaking,” he whispered.

“I’m not afraid,” she replied. “I just need to feel something real.”

He pressed his forehead against hers. “You have me. Always.”

As the night wore on, they made love with the desperation of warriors who didn’t know if the dawn would bring victory or ruin. Their bodies moved in sync, the bond glowing so brightly it nearly lit the room.

And when they finally lay tangled in each other’s arms, breathless and bare, Serena whispered into the silence:

“Whatever comes, we face it together.”

Elias kissed her shoulder. “And we win.”