Chapter Twenty-five

Pov from Home

The night was quiet after training, the cave alive only with the crackle of a fire. My body screamed with exhaustion, every muscle bruised, every bone aching. Lucien had pushed me past my limit again, and again I had survived.

But tonight, I wasn’t alone.

Louis appeared at the edge of the firelight, mud on his boots, breath ragged as though he had run for miles. My heart lurched at the sight of him—familiar, steady, a piece of the world I thought I had lost.

“Kimberly,” he whispered, stepping into the light.

I rose too quickly, nearly stumbling. “Louis? How—why are you here?”

He didn’t answer at first. He only reached into his cloak and pulled out a leather pouch, worn from travel. He pressed it into my hands. “From your father.”

The words froze me. My father.

My hands shook as I unsealed the pouch, revealing folded parchment, the seal marked with the pendant he had once given me. My throat tightened. I unfolded the letter slowly, the words blurring through the sting of tears.

My dearest Kimberly,

I have been silent when I should have fought. I have bowed when I should have stood. For this, I beg your forgiveness. Know that I never stopped loving you. You are not weak. You never were. If you walk this dark path, do not walk it believing you are alone. My blood is yours. My strength is yours. I am proud of you, my daughter, and whatever you become, I will stand with you—if not in life, then in memory.

Tears slipped down my cheeks, splattering the page. My chest ached with both grief and fierce relief. For so long, I had believed he had abandoned me, that he had chosen silence over me. But here, finally, was truth.

He had not stopped loving me.

I clutched the letter to my chest, sobs breaking free. My wolf howled inside, grief and love twined together.

Louis’s voice was soft. “He risked everything to send this. Mona almost caught us. If Derrick learns—”

I looked up sharply. “Mona knows?”

He nodded grimly. “She saw us. She hasn’t told Derrick yet, but it’s only a matter of time. Be careful, Kimberly. The walls are closing in.”

Before I could answer, Lucien stepped from the shadows. His coal-dark eyes swept over Louis, cold and assessing, then shifted to me.

“You cry,” Lucien said softly, but there was no mockery in his tone this time. Only curiosity.

I wiped my tears quickly, tucking the letter close. “It’s from my father.”

Lucien tilted his head. “The man who let you be broken.”

My chest tightened. “The man who still believes in me.”

For a moment, silence hung heavy between us. His gaze lingered on me, unreadable, shadows curling faintly at his feet as though restless. Then he turned to Louis. “Leave her. She has no need of old ties.”

Louis stiffened. “She’ll always need them.”

Their gazes clashed, darkness against loyalty. I stepped between them, my voice trembling but firm. “Enough. I need both of you.”

Lucien’s eyes narrowed, but he said nothing. Louis’s shoulders eased slightly, though worry still burned in his eyes.

“I should go before I’m tracked,” Louis said finally. He pressed my hand once, briefly, then slipped back into the night.

I stood clutching the letter, my chest still heaving, emotions raw.

Lucien studied me for a long moment. “You think his words will save you?”

“They already have,” I whispered.

His lips curved, sharp but softer than usual. “Then prove it. Use them. Turn love into a weapon. Rage into fire. Show me that the Kimberly who wept is the same Kimberly who will one day take Derrick’s head.”

I pressed the letter tighter against my chest. My father’s words burned like a brand in my heart, steadying me, strengthening me.

And I whispered, fierce and certain: “I will.”

The shadows stirred, answering my vow.

And for the first time, I believed they would not betray me.