All Chapters of When we are one : Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

The walk to Grace’s quarters feels like a slow march to the gallows. Every step is laced with dread and disgust. I can feel Ezra pacing inside of me, teeth bared, a low growl rattling in my bones. He’s already furious, and I haven’t even knocked on the damn door yet.“This is a mistake,” Ezra snarls. “She’s not our mate. This is beneath us.”I know he’s right. Every instinct I have screams to turn back, to return to Anika, to her warmth, her scent, the way her smile eases the weight of the entire world off my shoulders. But this—this deception—is Anika’s plan. Her brilliant, maddening, necessary plan. One I agreed to carry out, no matter how much it makes me want to rip my own skin off.I steel myself, burying every trace of loyalty, of love, of rage beneath a mask. Then I knock.The door creaks open, and Grace stands there like she’s been waiting for this moment her whole damn life. Draped in something sheer and obscene, her lips painted like blood and her eyes gleaming with victory.

“That wolf wants a war…” I growl, my voice echoing through the hollow chamber, “Then she shall have one.”With a vicious crack, I slam my palm against the cold stone wall, the sound vibrating through the catacombs like a death toll. Dust floats down from the rafters, dancing in the dim candlelight, and I stare at the crimson stain left behind. It pleases me—the sight of blood always does.For centuries, I have lurked beneath the surface of this decaying world. A forgotten god among monsters. While kings rose and fell, while mortals lived and died, I remained—a silent predator in the shadowed depths of the underworld. They called me myth. A whisper. A bedtime horror story told to wayward pups.They were wrong.Slaves have passed through these halls like water, their screams echoing into nothingness. Some begged for mercy, some prayed for release. None were granted. And yet… her. That girl. That creature. That divine spark disguised as a mutt. I should have ripped her throat out when I

The den is quiet—too quiet. I was just beginning to relax when I hear the soft but deliberate footsteps approach. Not Corbin. No… lighter, sharper. Anika.I straighten from my seat by the hearth before she even rounds the corner. Her aura enters before she does. There’s something different about her tonight. She’s not the frightened girl we once took in from the edge of the woods—she’s something else now. Something powerful. Something… divine.Her eyes meet mine, glowing faintly in the dim light. She wastes no time.“He’s coming.”There’s no need for her to say who. I feel it in my bones—the disturbance, the shift in the wind, the tension in the magic. Elias.“I’ve read his journals,” she continues. “His weaknesses. His history. I know what haunts him.”I nod slowly, arms crossed. “And I’m assuming you’ve come to me because you don’t want Corbin to know.”She steps closer, arms folded around herself like she’s protecting the life within her. Her voice lowers. “He can’t. Not yet. He’ll

The room is heavy with tension. The kind that settles in your bones and makes your heartbeat echo louder than it should. Anika sits beside Corbin on the leather couch across from Alpha Samual’s desk, her fingers twitching against her thigh, nerves bubbling just beneath the surface. Corbin keeps one arm around her, but he’s stiff—alert. Ezra lurks just under his skin, ready to rip through the moment something feels wrong.Alpha Samual paces the room slowly, his eyes trained on the map sprawled across the desk. His features are unreadable, carved from years of battle and political restraint. But Anika can feel it—the tremor of dread weaving through the air. He feels it too.She hopes to the moon that her plan works. That she can confront Elias alone, just as she intends. But hope doesn’t feel strong enough. Not anymore.Finally, Alpha Samual stops pacing. His voice cuts the silence like a blade.“All non-combatants have been moved to our allied packs. Gamma Lark is overseeing their arri

Ezra let loose the moment Anika slipped her fingers from mine. She told me she was just heading to Gretel’s, told me to stay put and focus on the incoming battle. But my wolf was already pacing, my instincts screaming something wasn’t right. Her voice, her eyes—she was too calm, too composed. She was lying. I tried to follow, but she was too quick. A blur of silver hair and determination gone in a heartbeat. And then, like a curse from the gods, rogues came from every angle, tearing through the trees, blocking my path. Ezra roared inside me, rage and panic fusing into something animalistic. We fought hard, blood coating our fur, Ezra tearing through the rogue ranks like fire through dry brush. But still, with every drop spilled, my gut twisted tighter. She’s not safe. By the time the rogues thinned and Ezra’s claws dulled from overuse, I was panting hard, every limb aching. Ezra whimpered, not from pain, but from frustration. Exhausted, restless, desperate. “I told her,” I growl