Chapter Thirty-four

Blood

The night was still. Too still.

The fire in Lucien’s cave burned low, shadows flickering across the walls. I sat alone, the mark on my palm pulsing faintly with light and dark, in rhythm with my heartbeat. But something inside me was wrong. My chest ached, my wolf restless, pacing within my mind.

“Lucien?” I called softly, but he didn’t answer. He had left hours ago — training, he said, was over for the night. But the silence pressed heavy, uneasy.

Then the pain hit.

A sharp tug in my chest, sudden and violent. My breath caught. I doubled over, clutching my ribs. The shadows around me flared without command, writhing wildly as though sensing the same dread.

My wolf’s voice broke through, rough and panicked. He’s hurt.

I froze. Who?

Louis.

The name tore through me like lightning. Images flashed — his laugh, his steady hands as he pressed my father’s letter into mine, his promise to protect me no matter the cost.

I stumbled to my feet. “No,” I whispered, heart pounding. “No, he’s safe. He has to be—”

But the ache deepened, sharp and certain. A bond I didn’t know I still had burned like fire through my veins.

I ran.

The shadows followed, wrapping around my arms as I sprinted out into the forest. The cold air cut through my skin, branches clawing at my face, but I didn’t stop. The pull grew stronger with every step, dragging me north — toward the pack lands I had sworn never to see again.

Lucien’s voice echoed suddenly from the darkness, cold and commanding. “Where are you going?”

I skidded to a halt. He appeared before me like mist, shadows curling around him, his expression unreadable.

“Out of my way,” I said, breathless.

His coal-dark eyes narrowed. “You’re trembling.”

“Louis,” I gasped. “They have him. I can feel it.”

Lucien’s expression didn’t change, but the shadows around him stirred uneasily. “You cannot go back. Not yet. You are not ready.”

“I don’t care!” I shouted, my voice breaking. “He risked everything to help me. I won’t let him die because of me!”

Lucien stepped closer, his power pressing against mine. “If you walk back into Derrick’s territory now, you walk into a trap. He wants you to come. He will use your heart to end you.”

My hands shook, the shadows writhing around them like chains. “Then let him try.”

His eyes burned with something fierce, dangerous — anger, or fear, or both. “You think you’re stronger now. You think balance will save you. But emotion makes you weak. If you go, you’ll die.”

I met his gaze, my voice shaking but steady. “Maybe. But I’d rather die saving someone I love than live as the monster you’re making me.”

The air between us crackled, power straining against power. For a moment, I thought he would stop me — that he would force me to stay. But instead, he stepped aside, shadows rippling with dark fury.

“Then go,” he said coldly. “Go, little wolf. But if you fall, don’t expect me to follow.”

Pain flickered in my chest at the words, sharper than I expected. But I didn’t look back.

I ran.

The trees blurred past, the night thick with tension. The scent of wolfsbane reached me before I saw him — faint, bitter, unmistakable. My wolf snarled, every instinct screaming that it was wrong, that the air itself was poisoned.

Then I saw the lights through the trees — torches. A circle of warriors. And in the center, Louis.

He hung from a post, chains biting into his wrists, blood dripping down his arm. His head lolled weakly to one side, but when he sensed me, his eyes flickered open.

“Kim…?” His voice cracked, broken.

Rage exploded in my chest. The shadows erupted around me, alive and violent.

The nearest warrior turned — and I was already upon him. My blade cut through him before he could shout, the silver-black fire bursting from the wound. The others moved too slowly. I was fury itself, every strike precise, every movement fueled by fire and grief.

By the time the last wolf fell, the clearing was silent except for my ragged breaths.

I rushed to Louis, my hands trembling as I tore the chains apart with shadow-forged claws. He collapsed into my arms, blood soaking his torn shirt.

“Why… why did you come?” he rasped, barely conscious.

“Because you’re my family,” I whispered. “And I don’t abandon family.”

He tried to smile, but his eyes rolled back. His pulse fluttered, weak but still there. Relief flooded through me—just before the wind shifted.

And I caught the scent.

Derrick.

My blood froze.

The forest around me darkened as shadows moved — not mine, not Lucien’s. Dozens of wolves emerged from the trees, their eyes glowing amber.

And at their center, Derrick stepped forward, his grin cruel, his voice low and mocking.

“Welcome home, Kimberly.”