Vasile extended an arm toward Dalton, clasping his shoulder firmly. “You have earned your rest, son. Both of you.”
Jewel’s tears fell freely now, but they were no longer tears of sorrow. They were tears of gratitude, of peace, and of a love that transcended all things. She looked at Dalton—her mate, her heart—and smiled through the tears. “Together,” she whispered.
“Always,” he replied, his golden eyes filled with unwavering devotion.
The Great Luna stepped back, her form glowing brighter as she gestured toward a shimmering path of light that stretched endlessly before them. “Come.”
With Vasile and Alina on either side of them, Jewel and Dalton stepped forward, their hands clasped tightly. The Great Luna’s light grew brighter, warmer, enveloping them in a love so profound it defied words.
As they walked, the pain and struggles of their mortal lives fell away, leaving only peace and joy in their wake. They were home.
And as they disappeared into the light, Jewel glanced back. The Great Luna’s heart was clearly full as she smiled at Jewel, knowing her children had come home.
* * *
The clearing was deathly silent.
Fane stood frozen, his sharp, blue eyes locked on the lifeless forms of Jewel and Dalton sprawled on the ground. The golden light from the fissure had disappeared, leaving the clearing bathed in dim, haunting shadows. TheNushtoniastill pulsed faintly, but its glow had dimmed, as though it were sated.
And then Raja laughed.
The sound was low and rumbling, like thunder rolling across the clearing. It sent a shiver down Fane’s spine, his wolf snarling in his mind. Raja stood tall now, his smoky tendrils fading as his form solidified into something more physical. His red eyes gleamed with a cruel satisfaction as he looked down at Jewel and Dalton’s lifeless forms.
“I told you what would happen,” Raja mocked.
Fane’s chest heaved as rage boiled up inside him, hot and uncontrollable. His hands clenched into fists, his nails lengthening into claws. His jaw tightened, his sharp canines pressing against his lips, and his eyes, no doubt, glowing and burning with his fury. His wolf surged forward, demanding to be let free, but he didn’t shift completely.
Instead, his body grew, his muscles bulging as his alpha power erupted like a volcano. His clothes strained against his expanding frame, he felt bones in his legs partially shift, and his feet ripped through his shoes until he stood on massive wolf paws. He imagined he looked very much like the kind of werewolves humans portrayed in their many movies and books. His voice turned into a low, guttural snarl. He towered over the others, and his claws dug into the ground as he took a step forward. The ground beneath him cracked and splintered as his power surged outward, forcing those around him to their knees.
Jacque’s voice rang out, sharp and desperate. “Fane! You have to stop! You’re hurting everyone!”
Jen’s voice followed, dry even in the chaos, but also laced with a pain that Fane knew all of them felt. “Someone get a leash on the big bad wolf before he kills us all.”
Decebel growled lowly, his tone filled with frustration. “He’s losing it.”
Fane’s body trembled with the force of his fury. His rage was a storm that threatened to tear him apart from the inside. The clearing was eerily silent, save for the ragged sound of his breathing. His long claws bit into his palm, drawing blood, but he barely noticed the pain. It was drowned out by the surge of fury that roared through him like a tidal wave, relentless and all-consuming.
He pulled power from his pack. The bond between them opened wide to feed the beast inside him. It wasn’t a conscious act—just an instinct, raw and primal, as much a part of him as his wolf. The power of the alpha bond poured into him—a torrent of energy that magnified his wrath until it was a living, breathing entity. The power coiled around him, crackling in the air like a violent storm, and the weight of it pressed outward, crashing into everyone in the clearing.
The first to fall was Wadim. His knees slammed into the ground as his head bowed low, his forehead nearly brushing the earth. Zara dropped next. as her body trembling under the oppressive force. Her hands clawed at the dirt as if trying to find something solid to hold onto. One by one, the others succumbed, their bodies folding under the unbearable weight of Fane’s power. Even the gypsy healers, who were not wolves, were forced to their knees. Their faces were pale and damp with sweat as they struggled to breathe.
The air was suffocating and oppressive, as though Fane’s power had sucked the oxygen from the clearing. The trees stood silent, and the world seemed to shrink until there was nothing left but him and his grief. His wolf howled inside his mind, the sound raw and guttural, a mirror of the torment that twisted through him.
Fane’s vision blurred as his glowing blue eyes swept over the scene before him. Every wolf, every body, was pressed to the ground, chests heaving as they fought against the crushing force of his command. Jacque knelt several feet away, her hands splayed in the dirt as her head hung low, her red hair spilling over her shoulders in a fiery cascade. Even she, his mate, could not withstand the force of his might—a fact that only enraged him further.
He could feel the fear, the awe, and the pain radiating through the pack bond as his wolves tried to endure the storm he had unleashed. Their emotions crashed into him like waves and fed the inferno inside him. His grief demanded release, his wolf demanded vengeance, and together they surged outward in an uncontrollable flood.
The clearing itself seemed to respond to his fury. The ground trembled faintly beneath him, as though the earth itself recognized the magnitude of his power. The scent of crushed grass and damp soil filled his nostrils and mingled with the sharp tang of blood from his wounded palms. His breathing grew more ragged, each inhale a struggle as his chest rose and fell with the effort of containing the storm inside him.
And yet, even as his power surged outward, the edges of control slipping further from Fane’s grasp. His wolf clawed at him, demanding release, demanding action.They’re gone,the beast growled in his mind, its voice thick with anguish.Dalton. Jewel. They’re gone, and we couldn’t stop it.
Fane’s fists clenched tighter, his claws digging deeper into his palms. There was a fresh surge of energy as his wolf lashed out and poured its unbearable grief and rage into the bond. The pressure in the clearing intensified, and a strangled gasp came from one of the wolves behind him. Fane didn’t turn. He couldn’t. His vision was fixed on the ground in front of him, his focus narrowed to a single, all-consuming thought:I failed them.
A low growl rumbled in his chest and grew louder until it vibrated through the clearing like thunder. It wasn’t a growl of warning but a sound of mourning, of indignation, of a pain too deep to put into words. His wolf’s howl rose within him again, the sound tearing through his mind with a ferocity that made his entire body tremble.
“Fane,” a voice called softly, barely audible over the storm of his emotions.
Jacque. Her voice was steady, but he could hear the strain beneath it and feel the effort it took for her to speak under the heaviness of his dominance. Her presence—a faint flicker of light in the darkness that threatened to consume him—nudged gently against his mind through the mate bond.
