All Chapters of Rogue's Omega: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

Sable's hand found mine on the cot, her grip weak but warm. "You're still here," she said. "Good. I didn't come all this way to die in the first five minutes."I choked on something that was half laugh and half sob. "You stepped in front of an ice wolf. You're not allowed to make jokes about dying.""I'm a mother. I'm allowed to do whatever I want." Sable's amber-gold eyes drifted closed, and her grip slackened, but her pulse was steady under Archer's glowing hands.The medic tent overflowed with wounded. Silver Hollow enforcers lay on cots beside Frostmarch wolves who had been trying to kill them an hour ago. The pale wolves sat in confused silence, their blue-white eyes blinking at the healers who moved among them. They had been bred for three centuries to resist omega calm, to follow the Frostborn's will without question, and now that will was gone. They didn't know what to do with themselves.Archer's hands glowed gold as he worked on Sable's chest wound. The gash was deep, and he

I fell asleep with my son on my chest and all three alphas pressed around me, and for the first time in months, I didn't dream of blood.The fire had burned low in the hearth, and the room was soft with shadows. Theron's tiny weight rose and fell with my breathing, his dark hair tickling my chin. His wolf, that small bright thread in the bond web, was dreaming too. Peaceful dreams. Milk-warm and safe.Bastian sprawled across the foot of the bed like a guard dog who had finally, reluctantly, admitted he needed sleep. His hand rested on my ankle, and even unconscious, his grip was firm. Through the first bond, his dreams were slow and quiet. No nightmares. Not tonight.Kellan sat in the chair by the fire with a book open on his chest. He'd been reading old council records, annotating changes we still needed to make, and his pen was still tucked behind his ear. His glacial blue eyes were closed, and his breathing was deep and even. Three days awake. Three days of battle planning and afte

The grave was unmarked. Just a cairn of stones in a frozen valley where nothing grew.The northern mountains were harsh and silent. The wind cut through every layer of clothing, and the snow was deeper than anything I had ever walked through. Hale led us through passes that only the Frostmarch wolves knew, his pale form blending with the drifts, his blue-white eyes scanning the ridges for dangers that were no longer there. The Frostborn's fortress loomed behind us, abandoned and hollow, its ice walls already beginning to melt.I had walked through those halls before coming here. Rooms where omegas had been caged and bred. Barracks where pups had been trained to kill. A throne room carved from a glacier, the Frostborn's seat still gleaming cold and empty. I had felt the ghosts in those walls, the centuries of suffering, and I had promised them silently that their deaths would not be forgotten.But the valley was different. The valley was sacred.Mirren's records had been precise. A hid

Archer's hands pressed against my belly and his eyes went wide. "There are two heartbeats."The medic hut was warm with summer light, and the windows were open to let in the breeze. Theron sat on a blanket on the floor, chewing on his silver rattle with the single-minded focus of a pup who had just discovered teeth. He was eight months old now, crawling and babbling and shifting into a tiny white wolf whenever he got startled.I stared at Archer. "Two.""Two." Archer's voice cracked on the word, and his gold eyes were wet. "Twins, Caelum. You're carrying twins."Bastian was on his feet before I could speak. His chair scraped against the floor, and his hand found my shoulder, and his gold eyes were wild. "Is that safe? The last pregnancy was hard enough with one.""Twins are more demanding, but Caelum's body is stronger than it was during the first pregnancy." Archer pressed the stethoscope to my belly again, and his hands were steady despite the tears on his cheeks. "The bond web is s

The valley wasn't empty. It was full of wolves—dozens of them—and every single one of them had white fur.We descended through the narrow canyon as the sun dropped behind the cliffs, and the underground river roared beside us like a living thing. Rook took point, his dark eyes scanning the rocks. Bastian stayed at my back, his hand never leaving the hilt of his blade. And when the canyon finally opened into the valley, we all stopped walking.The Sunken Valley was a bowl of green and white carved into the heart of the mountains. Waterfalls spilled down the cliffs and fed a lake that glittered in the dying light. Cabins built from pale wood dotted the valley floor, and gardens terraced the slopes. And everywhere, everywhere, there were white wolves.A young boy shifted from wolf to human in the middle of a game, laughing as he tumbled into the grass. An old woman with white fur and amber-gold eyes sat on a porch, watching us with quiet curiosity. A pair of enforcers, both in partial sh