Grayson frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I had a mate once,” Zane admitted. “Rejected her.”
The confession hit harder than Grayson expected. “Why?”
Zane shrugged, but there was a hint of regret in his eyes. “Didn’t think I was cut out for it. Didn’t want the responsibility, the connection. I thought I’d be better off alone.”
“And?” Grayson prompted.
“And I was wrong,” Zane said simply. “But it was too late by the time I figured that out.”
Grayson stared at him, and the weight of Zane’s words settled in his chest like a boulder. They’d been through hell together, but Zane had never spoken about this. Not until now.
“Why are you telling me this?” Grayson asked.
“Because you’ve got a chance to do things differently. You’re already in this, Kane. Don’t screw it up.”
Grayson nodded slowly as the words sank in deep. “Thanks.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” Zane replied with a grin. “You’ve still got a lot of work to do.”
Grayson smirked despite himself. “Let’s get to it.”
“Right behind you,” Zane said, clapping him on the shoulder.
As they walked toward the main road, Grayson felt a renewed sense of purpose. With Zane and the team by his side, he knew they had a chance. And for the first time in days, he allowed himself to hope that maybe—just maybe—they could win this fight.
Chapter 13 - Cora
Cora sat cross-legged on Elena’s faded patchwork rug with the fragrant scent of burning sage filling the room as her friend arranged crystals in a precise circle around her. The ritual was supposed to help her center herself, to connect with the magic that had become so frustratingly unpredictable since the binding. But all Cora felt was restless as if her skin didn’t quite fit right.
“This feels…weird,” Cora admitted, watching as Elena carefully adjusted the final quartz point at the edge of the circle. “Are you sure this isn’t just witchy busywork?”
Elena shot her a wry look. “You’re the one who came to me for help, remember? If you’ve got a better idea, by all means.”
Cora sighed and dropped her head back. “Fine. I’ll play along. What now?”
Elena crossed her legs and sat opposite her. The low afternoon light filtered through the greenery outside the cottage window, catching the glint of the crystals as Elena’s calm voice took over. “Close your eyes. Focus on your breath. In through your nose, out through your mouth.”
Reluctantly, Cora obeyed. She inhaled deeply, counting to three before exhaling just as slowly. Her body resisted the stillness, and every part of her itched to move, but she forced herself to follow Elena’s instructions.
“Feel the earth beneath you,” Elena continued. “The magic is there, waiting. It’s yours to reach for, but only if you meet it halfway.”
Cora’s lips twitched. “Is that supposed to be inspiring?”
Elena ignored her. “Just focus. Trust me.”
She did, begrudgingly, and let her mind drift toward the cool ground beneath the rug and the faint sensation of energy that seemed to pulse just beyond her awareness. For a fleeting moment, it felt like it might actually work—that she might finally grasp the slippery threads of power that had been eluding her for weeks.
And then it hit.
The world around her fell away in a dizzying rush, and suddenly, she was no longer in Elena’s cozy cottage. Instead, she stood in a dense forest, surrounded by the smell of pine and damp earth. Her heart thundered in her chest, and the air vibrated with tension that prickled her skin.
Ahead of her, a figure moved through the shadows, and recognition slammed into her like a punch. Grayson.
He was shirtless, and his torso was streaked with blood and dirt. His muscles were taut with strain as he circled a group of wolves. They moved with predatory intent, closing in like a pack ready to pounce. Grayson’s stance was steady, but his eyes—those devastating blue-gray eyes—flashed with fury and desperation.
“Grayson!” Cora shouted, but the forest swallowed her voice. It was as if she wasn’t really there, just a ghost watching a scene unfold without any power to intervene.
