All Chapters of Bring Him to His Knees: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

The invitation arrives at Ashborn that morning, carried by one of Thane’s messengers and sealed with the crest of his pack. It is not a council gathering, nor another meeting about the Unbound, and for once, there are no ancient records or damaged wards waiting to demand our attention. Thane has simply decided that surviving the sanctuary deserves to be acknowledged, and he has chosen to celebrate it with a feast large enough to bring together Ashborn, Duskmoor, and his own pack. By the time we arrive at the Moonrise grounds, the place is transformed. Hundreds of lanterns hang from the branches surrounding the clearing, their warm light spilling across long wooden tables decorated with silver branches, wildflowers, and bowls of glowing fruit. Music drifts through the air from a group of musicians seated beneath a covered platform, their instruments producing a slow, beautiful melody that seems to settle over the gathering like another layer of enchantment. Wolves from different pack

ROAN The noise of the Moonrise Feast carries deep into the perimeter line, but from where I stand beside the stone boundary marker, it feels like listening to a celebration through thick water. I turn the wooden cup in my hand, watching the reflection of the hanging lanterns ripple across the dark surface of the wine. Across the clearing, the Ashborn banners sway in the night breeze alongside the crest of Thane’s pack. Everywhere I look, wolves are laughing, drinking, and tearing into roasted meat. Thane has built an island of light in the middle of a war zone, and right at the center of it stands Sloane. I haven’t moved closer to the primary tables since the delegation arrived. I stay near the outer edge of the covered pavilion, close enough to keep the Duskmoor warriors within my line of sight, but far enough into the shadows that I won’t force Sloane to look at me every time she turns around. "You look miserable," Marcus says, stepping up beside me. He doesn’t bother holding a

SLOANE The noise of the hall hits me like a physical wall when I step back through the archway, but it feels miles away, muffled beneath the thrum of my own racing blood. My lips are still tingling. The ghost of Roan’s breath against my mouth, the sudden, intoxicating heat of his chest pressed against mine, the way my fingers had tangled into the dark fabric of his jacket—it is all loop-playing in my mind, sharper than the reality around me. It was the wine, I tell myself, my hand coming up to touch my bottom lip as if to wipe away the memory. The wine, the lantern light, the exhaustion from the sanctuary. That is all it was. "Sloane? Are you alright?" Thane’s voice pulls me back. I blink, realizing I have stopped dead in the middle of the floor near the platform. He is watching me with that calm, perceptive gaze, a silver cup poised near his chin. "Fine," I say quickly, forcing a light smile onto my face. "Just... a little flushed from the air." "You look like you've seen a gho

ROAN The wind on the terrace is freezing, but it does not do a single thing to cool the fire burning under my skin. My hands are still shaking. I can still feel the phantom touch of Sloane’s fingers clutching my jacket. I can still feel her warm, frantic breath against my mouth. When she whispered yes—when she admitted that I terrified her, and then stepped directly into my space anyway—every wall I had spent two years building inside myself completely crumbled. Thane standing in that doorway stopped our lips from touching, but he didn't stop the truth. She still wants me. Beneath the anger, beneath the bitter distance, the bond between us is alive, screaming, and starving. I watch Thane lead her back inside the hall, his hand resting near her back. No more, my wolf growls, a heavy, dark pulse rattling against my ribs. No more stepping back. No more letting another man guide her while we bleed in the shadows. I have spent two years hiding behind my guilt, convincing myself that s

SLOANEAwareness does not return to me all at once. It seeps in slowly, dragging me up from a dark, suffocating abyss where my lungs have felt like burning ash.The first thing I register is warmth. A soft, thick blanket wrapped around my shoulders, the crackle of a fire somewhere nearby, and the soothing, earthy scent of crushed herbs resting against the skin of my inner wrist. My throat is raw, parched like desert sand, but the agony that clawed through my veins outside in the garden is gone.I open my eyes, the ceiling blurring before slowly settling into the exposed wooden beams of the hearth room."She's awake."Del’s voice breaks the quiet room, sharp with relief. Within seconds, her face appears in my line of sight, her eyes red-rimmed and exhausted. Right beside her is Thane. His jaw is tight, his usual calm demeanor replaced by a deep, lingering tension, though the relief in his dark eyes is undeniable."Easy," Thane says softly, his voice a low rumble as he reaches out, pla