Chapter 5 The Warning

Three days passed—three days of training, of aching muscles and bloody knuckles. Three days of Xavia pushing me harder than I thought I could go, and three days of the pack watching me like I was a disease they were waiting to see spread. They did not trust me, and I could not blame them. I did not trust me either.

But I kept going, because stopping meant giving up, and I was done giving up.

On the fourth morning, I woke to a knock on my door. I opened it to find Callum standing in the hallway, his face grave and his eyes sharp and assessing.

"Alpha wants you," he said.

I followed him, getting used to these summons. We passed through the training grounds where wolves sparred in pairs, their grunts and the crack of wood against wood filling the air. I caught a glimpse of my reflection in a window as I walked past. I looked different than I had a few days ago—harder, more alert.

He led me not to the training grounds or the study, but to the entrance hall. The fortress doors were wide open. Outside, the sun was barely rising over the treeline, painting the snow in shades of gold and gray. Standing on the border, alone, was Ezekiel.

I froze.

He was alone—no guards, no council. Just him, standing in the snow, his gray eyes fixed on the fortress. His jaw was tight, his shoulders stiff. He looked like he had not slept in days, his silver hair unkempt and his uniform wrinkled.

Xavia appeared beside me, his scent sharp and alert like a wolf on the hunt. "He's been there for an hour," he said. "He asked to speak with you."

"Why?"

"I didn't ask."

I looked at Xavia. His face was unreadable. "Let me talk to him," I said.

Xavia's jaw tightened, his eyes flickering with something I could not read. "Elara."

"I can handle it."

"I know you can." He paused. "That's not what I'm worried about."

I looked at him. "What are you worried about?"

His eyes met mine. "I'm worried he'll say something that makes you forget why you're here."

I should have been angry. I should have told him I was not that weak. But instead, I felt something else—warmth. He did not want to protect me. He wanted me to stay strong.

"I won't forget," I said.

He nodded. "Go."

I walked out of the fortress. The air was cold and biting. I wrapped my arms around myself as I crossed the border, the snow crunching under my boots.

Ezekiel did not move. He just watched me come closer, his eyes fixed on me like I was something he had lost and finally found.

"Elara," he said when I stopped a few feet away.

"Ezekiel."

He flinched at the sound of his own name.

"I came to see if you were alright," he said.

"I'm fine."

"Are you?"

I looked at him. He was tired, haunted, like he had not slept in days. His jaw was tight, his hands clenched at his sides.

"Why do you care?" I asked. "You rejected me. You made it clear I meant nothing."

"I made a mistake."

I laughed, a short bitter sound. "A mistake? You stood in front of the entire pack and said my name like it was a disease. That was not a mistake, Ezekiel—that was a choice. You chose them over me."

He flinched. "The council—"

"Always the council," I cut in. "Always duty, always what's best for the pack. You never asked what was best for me. You never even cared."

"That's not true."

"Isn't it?" I took a step closer. "What did you think would happen, Ezekiel? You'd reject me, and I'd just disappear? Go back to my corner and stay quiet like a good little Beta?"

"Elara, I—"

"No." I held up my hand. "You don't get to come here and act like you're concerned. You made your choice. Now you have to live with it."

He was quiet for a long moment. The wind howled between us, carrying the scent of pine and snow.

"I know," he finally said. "I know I have to live with it. But that doesn't mean I have to stop caring about what happens to you."

"Too little, too late."

"Maybe." He paused. "But that's not why I came."

"Then why did you come?"

He looked at me, his gray eyes hard but with something else underneath. Fear.

"The council is mobilizing," he said. "They're calling for war."

I stared at him. "War?"

"They want to go to war with the Night-Stalker Syndicate. They think you've been turned against us. They think Xavia is using you to get information."

"I am."

He did not flinch this time. He just looked at me with those cold gray eyes.

"Then you've made your choice," he said. "I hope you're ready for what comes next."

"Are you threatening me, Ezekiel?"

"I'm warning you." His voice was flat. Cold. "Stay away from Iron-Claw. If you cross that border again, I won't be able to protect you."

I laughed, a short bitter sound. "Protect me? You rejected me. You let your council strip me of everything. You don't get to pretend you care now."

"I don't pretend," he said. "I just follow orders. That's all I've ever done."

"And look where it's gotten you."

Something flickered in his eyes. Anger. Or maybe frustration. But he did not respond. He just looked at me for a long moment, then turned and walked away.

He did not look back.

I watched him disappear into the snow, and I felt something I had not expected.

Nothing.

I did not feel sad. I did not feel angry. I did not feel anything.

And then he stopped. He looked back at me.

"Elara," he said. "There's something you need to know."

"What?"

He paused. "Your father isn't just exiled. He's missing."

My blood turned to ice.

"Missing?" I repeated. "What do you mean, missing?"

"I mean he's gone. The council had him taken from his home two nights ago. No one knows where."

I felt the world tilt beneath my feet. My hands were shaking again, and I could not stop them.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"Because I didn't know until this morning." He looked at me, and for the first time, I saw something real in his eyes—not cold duty, not flat control. Guilt. "I came to warn you about the war. But I also came to tell you this."

"You should have started with this."

"Maybe." He paused. "But I also came to tell you something else."

"What?"

He looked at me, his gray eyes tired and heavy. "They took him because of you. They want to use him to draw you back. To stop you from becoming a threat."

I felt the anger rise in my chest, hot and sharp. "And are you going to stop me?"

He did not answer. He just looked at me.

"I'm not," he finally said. "But I can't save him for you. You'll have to do that yourself."

He turned and walked away. This time, he did not look back.

I stood there in the snow, frozen, my mind racing. My father was missing. The council had taken him. They were going to use him to hurt me.

And Ezekiel had let it happen.

I walked back to the fortress in a daze. Xavia was waiting at the doors. He did not ask what happened. He just looked at me, and I looked at him.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"No," I said. "But I will be."

I walked past him, through the fortress, back to my room.

That night, I sat on the edge of my bed and stared at the wall. The bond pulsed in my chest, warm and steady. I pressed my palm against it and closed my eyes.

What are we doing? I asked silently. Where is this going?

The answer came softly, a whisper in the back of my mind.

Wherever you want it to go. Just don't stop fighting.

I opened my eyes. The room was dark, but I felt less alone than I had in years. I lay down and stared at the ceiling. Tomorrow, the war would begin. But I was ready.

And then I heard it, a soft knock at my door. I sat up, My heart was pounding.

"Who is it?" I asked.

The door opened slowly.

Xavia stood in the doorway.