Now bound and terrified because Connor wants to force my hand.
"Meet me at the standing stones at sunset. You, Declan, and whoever else wants to die trying to stop the inevitable. Come fight me properly, or I start killing these good people. One per hour. Starting as soon as the sun goes down."
The video cuts off.
I stare at the blank screen, my hands trembling. Declan's fury spikes through the bond, then carefully banks as he tries not to overwhelm me with his emotions.
"He's insane." Tessa's face has gone pale. "He's completely lost his mind."
"No." I shake my head even though my heart is racing. "He's desperate. Six seals broken means he's close, but not there yet. He needs my death at the convergence point to finish it. He's forcing the confrontation before we can regroup."
"Then we don't go." Jax's voice is cold. "We find those hostages, extract them, take the fight on our terms...”
"We don't have time." Rafe pulls up a map on his laptop. "We may know where the hostages were, but Connor knows that and will be prepared."
Declan hasn't spoken. He's staring at the phone screen, his jaw clenched so tight I can see the muscle jumping. Fury crashes against me like waves against a cliff. Not at me. At Connor. At his own perceived helplessness.
"We go." His voice is barely above a whisper. "But we go prepared. We call in every favor, every ally, every shifter who's ever owed us anything. If Connor wants a battle at the stones, we'll give him one he won't forget."
"Agreed." Rafe straightens despite his injury. "I'll reach out to the northern clans. Some of them owe me."
"I'll handle the western clans." Grayson rolls his shoulders, testing his injuries. "Connor burned those bridges when he ordered the attack on their people."
Tessa's already typing furiously. "I'm sending messages to every contact we have. This isn't just about our pack anymore. This is about the entire island."
They scatter. Phones out, voices urgent, reaching out to everyone they know.
Declan pulls me aside into the kitchen. Away from the others. His hands cup my face, and his eyes are raw.
"I can't lose you." His voice breaks. "Eliza, I just found you. We just...” He stops, swallows hard. "If something happens to you because of this, because of me and my pack and this cursed island...”
"Stop." I cover his hands with mine. "This isn't your fault. None of this is your fault. Connor made his choices. We're making ours."
"My choice is you." He leans his forehead against mine. "Always you. Over the pack, over the island, over everything. If it came down to it...”
"It won't." I kiss him gently, then pull back to meet his eyes. "Because we're not choosing. We're going to stop him together. You, me, our pack and all the others who stand against what he's trying to do."
I sense his wolf pacing, agitated. Protective. Distraught in a way that the human Declan would never admit aloud. The Storm Alpha who can call lightning and command the weather is concerned. Not for himself. For me.
"I've never had this much to lose," he admits quietly, confirming what I'm feeling. "Not in any battle, not facing any threat. But the thought of Connor getting his hands on you, of having to watch you die..." His voice cracks completely. "Eliza, I can't. I can't do that."
"You won't have to." I press my palm flat against his chest, feeling his heart racing beneath my hand. "I'm not some fragile thing that needs to be locked away. I'm your mate. Your equal. And I'm going to fight beside you because that's what we do. That's what mates do."
"I know." He catches my hand, brings it to his lips. "I know. And that concerns me even more. Because you will fight beside me. You'll put yourself in danger for these people, for this island,for me. And I love you for it, even as every instinct I have screams to throw you over my shoulder and run until we're so far away Connor can never touch you."
"But you won't do that."
"No." His smile is sad. "Because you'd never forgive me. And because you're right. Running doesn't stop this. It just delays it while innocent people die."
I pull him down for another kiss, this one deeper, more desperate. Trying to memorize the taste of him, the feel of his arms around me, the warmth of his body against mine. Just in case. Just in case this is the last quiet moment we get.
When we break apart, his eyes are storm-grey and intense. "When this is over," he says, "when Connor's stopped and the threat is gone, I'm taking you away for a week. Just us. No pack, no politics, no ancient evils. Just you and me."
"A whole week of you? I don't know if I can handle that, MacRae."
"You'll manage." He kisses my forehead. "Somehow."
"I'm holding you to it."
