Chapter 8

The night broke open around us.

Howls tore across the ridge, too many and too close, their sound bouncing hard off the stone beneath our feet. Boots pounded from the left, the right, the path ahead. Not rogues moving in chaos. These were trained steps, disciplined and fast. Whoever had come for me tonight had not stumbled across our trail by accident. They had been hunting.

The voice in my mind lingered for one terrible second more, faint as a breath against old glass. Little moon. The name struck somewhere so deep it hurt. My mother. Or someone who knew exactly how to sound like her. I had no time to decide which possibility would destroy me more.

Ty shifted his stance beside me, close enough that our shoulders nearly brushed. I could hear the controlled drag of his breathing, the deadly stillness he went into before violence. He did not tell me to hide. He did not order me back. He only said, low and urgent, “Stay connected to Neeka. I’ll take your blind side.”

Something sharp and painful twisted in my chest at that. Such a small thing, and yet it felt bigger than every apology he had tried to give me. He was finally standing where I had asked him to stand—not in front of me, not over me, but with me. It did not fix anything. It still mattered.

“Left,” Neeka snapped.

I dropped a second before the strike came. Air split above my head. I heard Ty pivot, heard the blunt crack of fist meeting bone, followed by a curse choked off halfway through. My hand found a loose stone. Without thinking, I came up and drove it toward the sound of movement to my left. Someone grunted. Boots skidded. A body hit the ground hard.

“Nice,” Ty muttered, breathless and fierce.

Then the ridge filled with the metallic scent of drawn blades. Silver. Iron. Leather. Male sweat. Fear is hidden under training. There were at least six of them now, maybe more, spreading out to pin us from different angles. Marian had not just called enemies. She had called people who knew exactly what I was worth.

“Stand down and hand over the Luna,” a male voice ordered from ahead. Not old. Not young either. Controlled. Educated. The kind of voice that expected obedience because it had bought it often enough. “We were told she might awaken early. We were not told she would be difficult.”

Luna. Not a girl. Not wolf. Not a person. A thing to be handed over. A prize. A political weapon. Rage flashed so hot through me that for one reckless second it burned cleaner than fear.

Ty laughed once, without humour. “That would be no.”

“Then this becomes unfortunate,” the man replied. “Our Alpha has waited eighteen years for the seal to weaken. He will not lose her now because a border pack grew sentimental.”

Eighteen years. My age. My whole life suddenly telescoped into a single sickening line of cause and effect. This had never been one cruel woman and one frightened father. It had been a net thrown over me before I was old enough to speak.

Marian laughed somewhere off to the side, weaker now, but still vicious. “You, see?” she called. “You were always going to be claimed. I only taught you early what the world does to girls born dangerous.”

“Be quiet,” I said.

The command rippled outward before I understood I had given it any power. Air tightened. Sound stuttered. Marian’s next breath caught in her throat with an ugly choke. Around us, even the strangers shifted uneasily. Whatever had awakened in me on the ridge was learning faster than I was.

“Take them,” the leader snapped.

The world exploded into motion. Ty met the first attacker with a snarl that ripped the night open. Flesh hit stone. Steel rang. Someone came at my right, too fast, but Neeka threw the warning through me and I twisted aside. A blade grazed my sleeve. I caught the attacker’s wrist with both hands and drove my knee up hard. He folded with a curse. Ty was everywhere at once—breath, force, fury—fighting like a storm wearing skin.

But there were too many. I felt them circling, adjusting, learning my blind spots as quickly as I learned their rhythm. Panic clawed at my throat. Beneath it, something older uncoiled. Not fear. Authority. It rose through my bones like remembered fire.

“Down,” I shouted.

The ridge answered. Two bodies slammed to the ground as if struck by invisible force. Another stumbled to his knees with a cry of shock. Even Ty went still for half a heartbeat—not compelled, but stunned by the force of it. Somewhere below us, answering howls rose from our own pack at last, nearer now, racing up the mountain.

“Remind me never to argue with you again,” Ty said, breath torn with exertion.

Despite everything, a wild, disbelieving laugh almost escaped me. “A little late for that.”

The leader recovered first. “Enough,” he barked, fury cracking through his polish. “If she has command already, the seal is collapsing faster than predicted. Take her alive. Kill the mate if you must.”

Something icy flashed through me at that. Not because death was new. Not because danger was strange. But because hearing Ty’s life reduced to an acceptable loss tore through the fragile, furious balance I had been keeping inside myself. I was not ready to forgive him. I was nowhere near done hurting. But the thought of losing him again hit like a blade between the ribs.

“Touch him and I will bury you here,” I said, and this time the promise in my voice frightened even me.

“Marian’s moving,” Neeka snarled. “Behind the leader. Toward the north path.”

Of course she was. Marian Lancaster had lived her whole life on other people’s pain and never once stayed to pay for it. I shifted my weight to go after her, but Ty caught my wrist for one sharp second. Not to stop me. To ground me.

“Sila,” he said, urgent and close, “if Marian reaches the northern falls before us, she won’t just lead them to your mother. She’ll lead them to whatever is breaking the seal.”

My heart stumbled so hard it hurt. All at once the battle on the ridge widened into something vast and unbearable. This was no longer only about me—my blindness, my prophecy, my mate, my grief. Somewhere beyond the northern falls was a woman I had mourned, hated, needed, and now might lose before I even reached her.

The next howl came close enough to shake the air, and then our pack hit the ridge like a breaking wave. Wolves crashed into bodies. Men shouted. Alpha Cameron’s rage carried through the chaos like thunder. Luna Lea was there too, somehow, sharp-voiced and lethal, cursing as someone screamed.

For one fleeting second, I thought we had turned it. Then the enemy leader laughed.

“You’re too late,” he said. “She crossed the falls minutes ago.” Steel scraped stone as he retreated. “And if the guardian woke when the seal cracked, your mother is already bleeding.”

Something tore through the mate-bond so violently that Ty staggered beside me. It wasn’t his pain. It was mine—raw, primal, and impossible to mistake. Somewhere beyond the northern falls, a woman I had never stopped longing for screamed inside my blood.