Chapter 47

Dylan

A strange quiet was settled over the pack, the kind that didn’t bring peace. It was the calm before the storm, the air thick with tension as we all waited for Andromeda to make her move. No one said it outright, but I knew everyone could feel it - like a predator circling, just out of sight. I had been in enough battles to know that this kind of stillness isn’t natural; it’s calculated.

And if I could feel it, I knew Ethan did, too.

Ethan’s always carried the pack’s weight on his shoulders, but lately, it has been different. There was a heaviness in him that wasn’t there before, like he was wrestling with shadows I couldn’t see. I was used to his relentless work ethic, the way he poured himself into every detail of running this pack. But it was more than that now. He was pushing himself harder, training with a single-minded intensity that would be impressive if it weren’t so worrying. I didn’t think he had slept a whole night in weeks.

Last week, I caught him out in the training yard at dawn, hammering away at a set of combat dummies, his fists bloody. I’d asked him if everything was alright, and he just nodded, brushing me off like it was nothing. But it wasn’t nothing. Ethan was the strongest Alpha I’d known, but even he had his limits, and I could see he was nearing them. The silence from Andromeda had him on edge, and he was not letting anyone in, not even Mer. He was keeping his distance, even from her, and it was creating a tension between them I didn’t think either of them knew how to fix.

Then there was Rosemary. Mer had changed in the last few months. She used to be a force, this spark that lit up the pack, but now… it was like the light’s dimmed. She was quiet, withdrawn, like she was carrying something heavy that none of us could see. Grace told me she had been struggling, feeling exhausted and unwell, but every time I saw her, she just waved it off, claiming she was okay. She still showed up to training, went through the motions, but her heart wasn’t in it.

I could see it in the way she looked at Ethan, like she was searching for something she was afraid she wouldn’t find. And Ethan? He watched her, too, though he thought he was being subtle. There was this distance between them, a wall that had come up in the last few months, and neither of them knew how to tear it down. They still cared for each other; anyone could see that. But whatever was happening with Mer had her closing off from him, from everyone. It was like she was disappearing bit by bit, and we were all watching it happen without knowing how to stop it.

Grace had noticed it, too. She had said as much when we talked late at night, after most of the pack had settled in for the night. Grace’s worry was a constant presence in our conversations. She was sharp, Grace - she didn’t miss a thing. She saw the changes in Mer, the strain on Ethan, the quiet fear threading through the pack. But she also had her own worries. Since I’d been traveling more for pack business, she has been clinging tighter, worried I would leave again. She joked about it, brushed it off, but I could see the fear in her eyes. It was strange, seeing her like this. She had always been the strong one, the anchor that held everyone together. But even Grace had her breaking points.

On the other hand, Nathaniel was blissfully oblivious to most of this. He was so wrapped up in the excitement of his engagement to Liam that he was missing the undercurrents swirling around him. I couldn’t blame him. After hiding their relationship for so long, he deserved to have this moment. But a part of me worries he was too distracted. He was planning his wedding, building a future with Liam, and it was clear that he was letting himself be happy for the first time. But he was also not as focused on the pack as he usually was, and I knew Ethan felt that absence.

The pack needed to be vigilant, especially now, with Andromeda lurking out there. We knew she was waiting for something - what, we didn’t know. And it was driving Ethan mad. He had gotten everyone training longer and harder, pushing us to be ready for whatever she threw at us. We were all exhausted, but he wouldn’t let up. He kept telling us we couldn’t afford to be too confident, that one wrong move could mean the end of the pack. I agreed with him, but I worry he was burning himself out, pushing himself too far. He wasn’t just our Alpha; he was our friend, our brother. But he was not letting anyone close enough to help him carry the weight.

Today, I was on patrol with a couple of the younger wolves, guiding them through the forest surrounding our territory. They were eager, always on edge, constantly glancing over their shoulders as if Andromeda might leap out of the shadows at any moment. I’d tried to tell them to relax, to stay focused but not paranoid, but it was hard when the entire pack is wound so tight. I led them along the outer perimeter, checking for any signs of disturbance, but the forest was quiet. Too quiet.

As we circled back, I spotted Mer standing by the edge of the clearing, half-hidden in the shadows. She was alone, her arms wrapped around herself, staring off into the trees like she was somewhere else entirely. I hesitated, considering going over to talk to her, but something stopped me. There was a look in her eyes, a distance that made me think she wouldn’t want the company. She was here, but not really here, and it hurt to see her like this. Mer had always been so full of life, so present. But lately, it was like she was a phantom, moving through the pack without ever fully engaging.

Ethan had noticed it, too. He watched her from a distance, his gaze heavy with worry and something else, something I couldn’t quite place. But he was so focused on the threat from Andromeda, on keeping the pack safe, that he didn’t have the energy to figure out what was going on with Mer. Or maybe he was afraid to confront it. Either way, they were both hurting, and it was affecting everyone. I could feel the strain, the way it rippled out from them to the rest of us, making the pack feel fractured in a way it hadn’t before.

Back at the packhouse, I found Ethan in his office, poring over reports from our scouts. His eyes were bloodshot, the lines of exhaustion etched deep into his face. I hesitated at the doorway, wondering if I should tell him to take a break, to step back for just a moment. But I knew he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t rest until Andromeda was dealt with, until he knew the pack was safe. It was just who he is.

Grace joined me, her hand slipping into mine as we silently watched Ethan. She sighed, leaning her head on my shoulder, and I could feel the weight of her worry pressing down on both of us. “He’s wearing himself down,” she whispered, her voice filled with the same helplessness I feel.

“I know,” I replied, keeping my voice low. “But he won’t listen to anyone. Not even Mer.”

Grace looked up at me, her expression conflicted. “Do you think Andromeda knows? About Mer, I mean?”

The thought sent a chill down my spine. Andromeda had been quiet for too long, her silence almost more terrifying than an outright attack. We knew she was after Mer, that she saw her as some kind of threat. But we didn’t know why, and that uncertainty was eating away at all of us. If she knew Mer’s vulnerable right now… if she knew there was a rift between her and Ethan…

“We can’t let her find out,” I said, more to myself than to Grace. “Whatever happens, we have to protect them. Both of them.”

Grace nodded, her grip on my hand tightening. We were all on edge, all bracing for the coming storm. And I knew that when it did, we would fight with everything we had. But part of me couldn’t shake the feeling that this battle, whatever it was, was going to test us in ways we weren’t prepared for.

I didn’t know what was coming. But I did know one thing: we would face it together, as a pack, as a family. And we would fight for each other, no matter the cost.