The Aftermath

The silence after battle was worse than the fight itself.

The courtyard was unrecognizable. Blood streaked the stone in thick black rivers, bodies littering the ground like broken dolls. The stink of iron and smoke clogged my throat, making me gag. Wolves limped through the wreckage, their fur torn, their eyes dull with exhaustion. Some shifted back into human form, clutching wounds that bled freely under the torchlight. Others lay still, never to rise again.

I pressed a hand over my mouth, choking down bile. Hours ago, Blackwood had been walls and firelight, growls and whispered threats. Now it was carnage. A graveyard.

Kade stood in the center of it all.

His wolf had receded, but his beast still clung to his skin. He was half-shifted—his claws not fully withdrawn, his eyes still molten gold, his bare chest drenched in blood. Some of it his. Most of it not.

He swayed slightly, a deep gash ripping across his ribs where the lieutenant’s claws had torn him open. Blood leaked down his side, dripping onto the stones. He ignored it. He ignored everything—except me.

His gaze found me through the smoke, through the ruin, as if the rest of the world no longer existed. The bond burned hot under my skin, aching, clawing at me, demanding I move. And I did.

I crossed the courtyard, weaving past the wounded, the dead, until I was in front of him. Up close, the wound was worse. His flesh gaped, deep enough that bone gleamed white under the torchlight. My stomach lurched.

“You’re bleeding out.” My voice shook.

His lip curled in something between a smirk and a snarl. “Not yet.”

He tried to straighten, his body trembling with the effort, but I grabbed his arm. His skin was hot, feverish, slick with sweat and blood. “Stop pretending. You’ll die if you don’t let someone—”

“Don’t tell me what I’ll do.” His voice cracked like a whip, his beast snarling through it. But then his gaze softened, just slightly, as he looked down at my hand gripping his arm. His claws grazed my skin, not cutting, just… feeling. “You’re still shaking.”

“Of course I’m shaking.” My chest tightened, my voice breaking. “I just watched men—wolves—die. I just…” I trailed off, the memory of that invisible force lashing from me flashing like lightning behind my eyes. “I don’t even know what I am anymore.”

His thumb brushed the inside of my wrist. The gesture was tender, almost gentle, but his voice was iron. “You’re mine.”

The words seared through me, the bond pulsing at the sound, alive, insistent. I wanted to fight it, to shove him away, but the truth was undeniable. Every breath I took was thick with his scent. Every beat of my heart synced to his. Every part of me wanted him, even now, covered in blood, half a monster, maybe because he was half a monster.

But he was still bleeding out.

I gritted my teeth. “Sit. Now.”

His brows lifted slightly, surprise flickering across his face, but I didn’t wait for him to argue. I guided him toward the nearest stone bench. He resisted for a moment, then gave in with a low growl, lowering himself stiffly.

“Don’t move,” I ordered, kneeling in front of him. My hands shook as I tore a strip from my tunic, pressing it hard against the wound. Hot blood soaked the fabric instantly. He hissed, his body arching, but didn’t pull away.

The pressure wasn’t enough. He needed stitching. Herbs. Anything to slow the bleeding. But the healers were already swamped, moving from body to body across the courtyard. Some wouldn’t make it. Some already hadn’t.

“Look at me,” I whispered.

His golden eyes snapped to mine, molten and raw, and for a moment the chaos around us didn’t matter.

“You don’t get to die tonight,” I said, my voice breaking on the last word. “Not after you dragged me into this. Not after you bit me. You don’t get to leave me here alone.”

His lips curved, not quite a smile, but close. “You’d fight Death itself for me, wouldn’t you?”

I swallowed hard. “If I had to.”

His hand lifted, claws grazing my cheek, smearing me with his blood. “Good.”

The heat between us pulsed, sharp and undeniable, the bond clawing tighter. My throat went dry, my body aching in places I didn’t want to admit. Even covered in blood, broken, trembling, he made me want.

And that terrified me more than anything Ronan’s wolves could do.

By the time the fires were doused and the bodies dragged from the courtyard, the first light of dawn broke over Blackwood. The sun was pale and thin, like it couldn’t bear to shine too brightly on what it revealed. Blood stained the earth. Smoke curled from collapsed roofs. The air reeked of ash, death, and wolf.

I’d barely slept—none of us had. Kade’s wound had been cleaned and bound, but his pride refused a healer’s hand for long. He sat at the head of the long war table now, his posture stiff but unyielding, as if he could glare the blood loss out of existence. His eyes still burned that dangerous gold, proof his beast wasn’t far beneath the surface.

Around him, the pack council gathered. Warriors with bandages on their arms. Elders with smoke staining their hair. Every face was carved from stone. Every gaze weighed heavy with suspicion.

And every gaze lingered on me.

I sat near the edge of the chamber, hands clasped tight in my lap, wishing I could disappear into the shadows. But shadows didn’t hide me. Not from them. Not from him. The bond burned hotter in this room, in his presence, dragging my gaze to Kade over and over.

“This attack was coordinated.” One of the elders, grey-haired and sharp-eyed, slammed his palm against the table. “Ronan would not dare breach our borders without inside knowledge. Someone betrayed us.”

A low murmur rippled through the chamber. Wolves shifted uncomfortably. My heart hammered.

“Someone fed him information.” The elder’s voice dropped lower, more dangerous. “Someone told him where our defenses were weak. When to strike. And what he wanted most.”

His eyes slid to me.

The room followed. A dozen pairs of eyes, suspicion cutting like blades. My throat tightened.

“She arrived not a week ago,” another voice snapped from the far end of the table. “A human. A stranger. And suddenly Ronan crosses the border? Suddenly our enemies know how to bleed us dry?”

I stiffened, nails biting into my palms. My instinct screamed to deny, to shout that I had nothing to do with this, but the words tangled in my throat. Because deep down, I wondered too. Was it me? The bond? Had my presence here made me the target?

The murmurs swelled, sharp and hostile. Some voices rose in agreement. Some snarled. Some called for proof. Some didn’t need proof. They wanted blood.

But then the table trembled.

Kade’s hand slammed down hard enough to crack the wood. The sound silenced the room like a thunderclap. His gaze swept the council, molten gold, dangerous, unblinking.

“Do you think I don’t smell lies when they crawl in this chamber?” His voice was low, lethal, threaded with the growl of his wolf. “Do you think I don’t know when doubt festers in my pack?”

No one dared answer.

“She is mine.” His hand curled into a fist, claws digging into the scarred table. “She bears my mark. Her blood sings with mine. And if any of you so much as look at her with suspicion again—” His gaze cut across the table, lingering on the elder who’d first accused me. “—I will rip out your throat and feed it to the crows.”

The silence was absolute. Even the fire in the hearth seemed to still.

Heat licked up my neck, equal parts fear and something darker. Something raw. The way he claimed me—publicly, violently, without hesitation—should have terrified me. Maybe it did. But it also made my pulse pound, the bond tightening like a noose and a lifeline all at once.

Finally, Kade leaned back, the fury in his eyes banked but not extinguished. “Ronan wants her. He thinks he can break me through her. He thinks she is weakness.” His lip curled, a snarl tugging at the edge of his mouth. “But she is not weakness. She is the weapon he cannot touch.”

The weight of his words pressed on my chest, heavy and confusing. A weapon. That wasn’t what I felt like. Not when my hands still shook from the memory of last night. Not when I could barely keep my voice steady.

But when his eyes met mine, molten and unflinching, something inside me shifted. Maybe I wasn’t a weapon yet. But I could be.

The council broke in murmurs again, quieter this time, some in agreement, some in unease. Plans were whispered. Borders reinforced. Scouts sent. War was no longer a whisper—it was here, breathing down our necks.

And in the center of it all, I sat, the outsider who had somehow become the spark.

When the council finally dismissed, Kade rose from his chair with the grace of a predator, every line of his body sharp despite the bandages under his shirt. He crossed to me in three long strides, his presence swallowing the room.

He didn’t speak. He just reached down, his claws grazing my jaw as he tilted my face to his. His golden eyes burned into mine, his voice a low rumble that only I could hear.

“You see it now, don’t you?”

My breath hitched. “See what?”

His mouth curved, not soft, not cruel—something darker in between. “That there’s no running from this. No running from me.”

The bond pulsed hard, burning through my veins like fire, like hunger, like a truth I didn’t want but couldn’t deny.

And for the first time since his teeth had broken my skin, I wondered if maybe I didn’t want to run at all.