“I swear,” I echo, my voice low, raw.
“I swear,” Darius growls, his wolf pressing close.
“I swear,” Rafe rumbles, his bull’s strength vibrating through stone.
“I swear,” Malek purrs, his lion’s voice sharp.
“I swear,” Cassian intones, his bear deep and unyielding.
The air cracks. The altar glows faint red, then gold, then brighter, brighter, until light spills across the clearing, washing through us, into us. My fox howls inside me, his body searedwith warmth, not pain but fire reborn. For the first time in ninety years, his chains are gone. For the first time, he is free.
The glow fades, the forest settling, the altar quiet again. But we feel it—every one of us. The bond thrumming, not chains but threads, not iron but flame. Stronger for being chosen.
Mary turns to me, her eyes fierce, her breath steady. “It’s done.”
I study her, my chest heavy, my fox pressing against hers. “It’s just begun,” I answer, my voice low.
Behind us, wolves howl. Witches raise their hands, their power weaving into the night. The Pact is reborn, not in blood, not in vengeance, but in love.
And this time, it will not break.
29
MARY
The altar still hums behind us, faint as a heartbeat under snow, its glow dying into the earth where it belongs. The others drift back toward camp in silence, the weight of what we’ve done pressing heavy, but steady. I stand at the edge of the clearing, my boots sinking into half-melted snow, my wolf restless but quiet, as though she too understands that something has shifted at the root of the world.
Silas lingers beside me. He doesn’t speak at first. He rarely does unless words are carved from his chest like confessions. But his presence is enough, his shadow brushing mine, his fox pacing close to my wolf, unwilling to give me distance.
The firelight paints his face harsh—scarred, blood still drying on his jaw, soot streaked across his skin—but his eyes hold steady, amber burning low, not wild this time but anchored. Anchored to me.
I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding. “Feels strange, doesn’t it? Knowing it’s really over.”
He tilts his head, his voice low, gravel threaded through it. “Over for them. Not for us.”
I turn toward him, my chest tight. “No. Not for us.”
The forest hums with quiet—wolves howling distant, the crack of a branch under snow, the whisper of wind through pines—but here in this moment it feels as if the world itself has stilled, waiting for what comes next.
He takes a step closer, the space between us closing until I can feel the heat of him, sharp even in the cold. His hand brushes mine, hesitant at first, claws half-drawn like he’s afraid I’ll pull away. But I don’t. I never will again.
I curl my fingers into his, our hands fitting rough but certain. “We’ve both lost too much,” I say softly, my voice steady though my throat aches. “Family. Home. Years we can’t get back. And still, we’re standing.”
His jaw tightens, his gaze flicking away, but his voice comes low. “Barely.”
I squeeze his hand, firm, grounding. “Barely’s enough. Barely means we made it. And now… now we get to choose what comes after.”
His eyes snap back to mine then, sharp, burning, raw. “You really think there’s an after for people like us? Wolves and foxes, witches and lions, bears and bulls? You think the world just lets us walk into it clean after the blood we’ve spilled?”
I don’t flinch. “I don’t think it lets us. I think we make it.”
He stares, long and hard, the firelight flickering in his eyes. Then his lips twitch, a shadow of a smile cutting through the heaviness. “Always stubborn.”
“Always,” I whisper, and I smile too.
We sink down together onto the cold stone at the altar’s base, the night wrapping around us, the snow falling light, catching in his dark hair. His arm slides around my shoulders, pulling me against his chest, his breath warm at my temple. I lean into him, the weight of his body steady, his heartbeat strong. My wolf presses close, content, no longer half-feral with longing but anchored by this, by him.
Silas’s voice comes low after a long silence. “Tell me, Mary. What future do you see? For wolves. For foxes. For us.”
