“Angie.” Cassian’s voice is sharp, the sound of command and fear knotted together. He’s on his feet in a heartbeat, his hands gripping my arms, steadying me as though I might collapse. “What happened?”
I shake my head, trying to clear the haze, but the vision clings like smoke in my lungs. “I saw… Cassian, I saw them. Shifters tearing each other apart, humans caught in the crossfire, blood everywhere. Roman was there, watching, waiting. And the Seal… it showed me all of it.”
His expression darkens, every line of his face carved deeper. “You touched it.”
“I couldn’t help it,” I admit, my voice trembling. “It felt like it was calling, like it wanted me to see.”
He pulls away, pacing, his jaw tight. “The Seal is not meant for human hands. It was forged to bind us, to keep balance among the Pact. If it showed you war, then…” He stops, his fists clenching. “Then the Pact is closer to breaking than I feared.”
I step forward, catching his wrist before he can retreat further into himself. “Cassian, you can’t pretend anymore. You said it yourself: Roman knows too much, the Pact is stirring. What I saw isn’t some nightmare. It’s coming. And they need you.Weneed you.”
His eyes drop to where my hand grips his wrist, small and pale against the strength of him, and for a long moment he doesn’t speak. Then his voice comes rough, low, the kind of tone that makes the air heavier. “You should not have that power. You’re human. The Seal should have ignored you. And yet it showed you what even I have not seen.”
I squeeze tighter, refusing to let him pull away. “Maybe that means I’m not just some outsider dragged into your world. Maybe it means I’m part of this too.”
He looks at me then, really looks, and I can see the battle in his eyes. The alpha in him wants to deny it, to keep me small and safe, tucked away from war. But the man in him, the one who has already let me inside, knows that safety was lost the day we met under the Arctic moon.
He exhales, the sound closer to a growl. “You don’t understand what you’ve tied yourself to, Angie. The south is not mercy. The Pact is not unity. It is old scars and broken vows, and walking back into it may destroy what little peace I still hold.”
“Then let it destroy the peace,” I fire back, my voice trembling but steady with conviction. “Because peace without truth isn’t peace at all. You said once you couldn’t promise me safety. I don’t want safety, Cassian. I want you. All of it. Beast, man, shadow. And I’ll walk into that war if it means I’m at your side.”
His chest rises and falls, slow and heavy, as though he’s carrying more than his body should. He raises a hand, brushing his thumb along my jaw, the touch tender despite the storm in his gaze. “You saw a war because it is coming. And if it comes, I cannot stay here. I cannot keep pretending exile is enough. I will go south. I will face what waits.”
My throat tightens, but I nod, because the choice was never mine alone—it was ours the moment we stopped pretending I was just a journalist and he was just a ghost in the snow. “Then we go together.”
He doesn’t answer with words. He leans down, his forehead resting against mine, his breath warm despite the chill that creeps into the cabin. In that silence, I hear his vow as clear as if he spoke it aloud.
And beneath it all, I feel the Seal, still hidden in the drawer, still pulsing with its strange heartbeat, waiting.
27
CASSIAN
The Seal hasn’t left the drawer since she touched it, yet I feel it like a live ember pressed against my chest, the heat of it whispering through every breath, a constant reminder that silence is no longer enough. I can feel it tonight more than ever, the faint pulse of its crimson glow drawing threads I thought I severed years ago. One of those threads tightens now, pulling against me like an old scar refusing to stay closed, and I know without doubt what it is.
Darius.
His bond to me is no longer severed, only sleeping, and now it stirs. The weight of it presses deep, familiar and unwelcome, dragging me back to memories of a life I swore off. I remember his voice carrying over the roar of fire when the Pact still meant something, when his word bound us together. He was more than my brother by oath; he was anchor and iron. And I walked away.
I close my eyes, but their faces come unbidden, each of them sharp as blades.
Rafe, all broad shoulders and fists scarred from too many fights, his laugh booming even when blood slicked his jaw. He never turned down a challenge, never turned his back when thepack needed brute strength, but he turned his fury on me the night I destroyed everything. I can still hear him, spitting my name like it was poison, calling me coward for leaving.
Malek, colder, sharper, dressed in suits cut from money and ambition, his lion prowling under the surface even in boardrooms filled with humans too blind to see the predator across the table. He was the strategist, the one who planned ten steps ahead, and the one who told me I was weak because I could not master the thing inside me. His judgment burned worse than Rafe’s fists.
And Darius—steadfast, unyielding, carrying the weight of leadership in his spine until it bent him close to breaking. He begged me to stay, not with words but with eyes that said he needed me, that the Pact needed me. And still I left, because exile seemed safer than unleashing the beast on the ones I loved.
Now the Seal thrums, and I feel the faintest spark of his bond pressing against me, as though he has reached across miles of ice and shadow to remind me that no one escapes blood.
The floorboards creak behind me. I don’t need to turn to know it’s her. Angie moves differently than anyone else, light and quick, as though she doesn’t weigh enough to wake the old wood, yet always finding a way to stir me no matter how quiet she tries to be. She doesn’t speak at first, only stands there watching, the silence carrying her questions even when she keeps them unspoken.
“They’ll know I’m coming,” I say finally, my voice low, rough as gravel. “The Seal makes sure of it. If I take it south, Darius will feel me before I ever set eyes on him.”
She steps closer, her hand brushing my arm, not timid but steady, as though she’s reminding me she isn’t afraid of what I am. “Maybe that’s not a bad thing. Maybe they need to know you’re not the ghost they think you are.”
“They’ll remember more than that,” I answer, turning to meet her eyes. “They’ll remember the blood I spilled, the oath I broke, the silence I left in my wake. Rafe’s rage. Malek’s scorn. Darius’s disappointment. I’ll walk back into all of it, Angie. Don’t think for a second they’ll greet me as brother. Not at first.”
Her chin lifts, the firelight catching her hair in a glow that makes her look like something untouchable, though I know she’s anything but. “Maybe not at first. But I’ve seen the way you carry the weight of it. You left because you thought it was the only way to keep them safe. That doesn’t make you a coward, it makes you the opposite. And maybe, just maybe, they’ll see that now.”
