I step outside the cabin, boots sinking into the hard-packed snow, the air burning in my lungs. The sky stretches wide, the stars sharp as broken glass. I stand there with the Seal pressed to my chest, and the words come rough and certain, scraping my throat like they’ve waited years to be spoken.
“I hear you, Darius,” I mutter into the cold, my voice carrying just enough to feel like the ice itself takes it in. “I’ve run long enough. I’ve buried what I am. No more. I’ll answer your call, brother. The Pact will stand again.”
The bear rumbles its approval, not with hunger or rage, but with a steady power, the kind that feels like stone beneath my feet. For the first time since that night, I don’t feel at war with myself.
Behind me, I hear her. Angie doesn’t move quiet—she doesn’t try to. She comes right up beside me, the hem of her coat brushing my arm. I glance down and she’s smiling, though her eyes shine wet in the starlight.
“You don’t even know what you just did,” she whispers, voice breaking but strong all the same.
I arch a brow. “I swore an oath. Nothing more.”
Her laugh is soft, shaky, like she’s trying to hold too many feelings at once. “Not nothing. You think you’re only a guardian, Cassian, some shadow on the edge of the world. But that’s not what I see. I see someone who just called back a brotherhood, who stood in front of the stars and said he’d lead again. That’s not just surviving. That’s becoming.”
I shake my head, though the words carve straight into me. “I’m no leader. Not like Darius. He carried the weight because he could. I only ever carried enough to break.”
She presses her palm against my chest, right over the Seal. “Then why does the bear sound different now? Why does it sound steady, not angry? Maybe it knows what you won’t say. Maybe it knows you’re meant to lead.”
Her touch lingers, her warmth seeping through my skin even in the bitter air. I cover her hand with mine, the size of it swallowing hers, and for once I don’t feel the urge to pull away. “If I am to lead, it’ll be because of you. You remind me I’m not only the thing they feared.”
She leans into me, cheek brushing against my arm. “You’re not the thing, Cassian. You’re the man. And you’re mine.”
The words sink deeper than the cold, deeper than the weight of the oath. I tilt my head and kiss her hair, breathing her in like I’m afraid the wind might steal her away if I don’t.
We go back inside, the fire low in the hearth, shadows flickering across the walls. I set the Seal on the table, its faint glow painting the wood red. Angie moves closer, sitting on theedge of the bed, her hands folded in her lap, her eyes fixed on me like she’s waiting for the truth I’ve never spoken.
I lower myself beside her, the weight of years pressing heavy on my shoulders. “When I left, I thought I was sparing them from me. Rafe’s rage, Malek’s judgment, Darius’s disappointment—I told myself it was better to carry exile than let them see me fall again. But that wasn’t the truth. The truth is I was afraid. Afraid that if I stayed, I’d never stop destroying.”
Her hand finds mine, her thumb tracing the scars across my knuckles like she’s memorizing them. “You think that’s weakness, but it’s not. You were scared of what you could do, and you chose distance instead of letting it burn them. That’s not cowardice. That’s love, Cassian. Messy, painful love.”
I turn my head, meeting her gaze full on, the firelight catching the warmth in her eyes. “You always make it sound simple.”
She grins, though her eyes stay soft. “It is simple. You’re just stubborn.”
The bear stirs inside me, not fighting, not clawing. Just steady. Just there. I realize it isn’t silence I’ve been chasing all these years—it’s peace. And for the first time, I feel the difference.
I draw her closer, pulling her against my chest, and she settles there like she’s always belonged. The fire pops, the storm outside eases, and I let myself believe, if only for this moment, that the world beyond these walls can wait.
Her voice comes quiet, muffled against me. “Wherever this takes you, I’m with you. North, south, into the Pact or into the fire. I’m not afraid of your shadows.”
I close my eyes, the Seal’s pulse steady between us, and answer in the only way I can. “Then I swear not only to them, but to you. I’ll see this through. I’ll reunite the Pact, face Roman, andstand where I should have stood long ago. And I’ll keep you safe while I do it.”
She tilts her head up, smiling through tears. “You’re not keeping me safe, Cassian. You’re keeping us safe. That’s what makes you a leader.”
I kiss her then, slow and certain, the kind of kiss that seals more than words ever could. The bear rumbles approval deep in my chest, not with rage but with a power I haven’t felt in years.
When I finally pull back, I whisper against her lips, “Whole. For the first time, I feel whole.”
And I know it’s true.
30
ANGIE
The sky looks like it’s been painted by fire, streaks of pink and orange clinging to the horizon while the ice still glitters blue and silver under the last breath of night. The Arctic has a way of stealing words from me, and that says something, because I always have words. I could fill a thousand notebooks with thoughts and half-formed stories, yet standing here with Cassian, the whole world draped in light, I find myself too full to say anything at all.
He doesn’t speak either. He’s not the kind of man who fills silence just to hear his own voice. Cassian lets quiet settle around him the way other people pull on a coat. Still, even without words, I feel him. His hand brushes mine, rough and calloused, and when I slide my fingers into his, he holds tight, like that’s the only promise that matters right now.
From the ridge, I glance back at the hall we’re leaving behind. Smoke trails faintly from the chimney, curling into the sharp morning air. And further off, half-hidden by snowdrifts, a wolf stands watching us. I know those eyes, sharp and silver, even from a distance. Mary.
