“Not yet,” she says, voice raw like she’s been screaming for hours. Maybe she has. “I’m not done.”
She takes a deep breath that rattles in her lungs. I stay where I am, letting her control this moment. Her magic has stripped something from her—energy, skin, something vital—but she’s still here. Still fighting.
When she tries to push to her feet, her legs buckle. I catch her elbow. She finds her balance, leaning into my grip without surrendering to it.
“Did you get what you needed?” I ask, keeping my voice low.
She nods once, sharp. “Enough.”
We rise together. My hand stays at her elbow, my body angled to brace hers if needed. Her fingers dig into my forearm, not clinging but anchoring. She walks on her own power.
As we cross out of the burned circle, Lyanna steps back, giving us space. Rafe watches from the treeline, arms crossed, expression unreadable. The pack parts silently, eyes down, no one challenging what just happened.
We move toward my cabin, not fast but steady. Nova’s steps falter twice. Each time, I adjust, taking more of her weight without making her ask for it.
“I saw him,” she says finally, voice stronger now. “I know what he wants.”
I nod, not asking for more. Not yet. Right now, the only thing that matters is that she made it back.
She fought her way through whatever Faelan left inside her. And she won.
I push the cabin door open and let Nova walk in first. The space goes quiet around us, replacing the charged aftermath of what happened at the circle. She smells like burned magic and sweat—a sharp, metallic scent that clings to both of our skin.
Nova moves with careful precision, depleted but not broken. She crosses to the center of the room and turns, refusing to sit or collapse against anything. Her jaw is set in that stubborn line I’ve come to recognize.
I grab a water bottle from the counter and hold it out. “Drink.”
She takes it without argument, which tells me more about her condition than anything else could. She drinks half in a few long swallows, then wipes her mouth with the back of her hand.
I grab a cloth from the counter, run it under the tap, and toss it to her.
She catches it one-handed and presses it against the blood at her hairline. For a moment, we just breathe. Let the silence settle.
Then I ask, “What did you see?”
Nova’s eyes lock onto mine. Clear now, focused. “He’s not trying to breach us. He’s already inside.”
My shoulders tighten. “How?”
“Through me. Through the wolves who went missing near the border, through the hikers.” She drops the rag on the table, blood-side down. “He didn’t want to take me. He wanted me to see.”
“See what?”
“His progress.” Her voice stays steady but thin, like a wire pulled too tight. “He’s not breaking the system. He’s rewiring it.”
I nod, letting each fact sink in without panic or denial. “The pack bonds.”
“Yes. Every wolf who’s been near those boundary points. He’s using them as conduits, tapping into their connections.”
“To what end?”
Nova looks at the wall for a beat. “To hijack your command structure. Turn Alpha authority into a weapon.”
The skin at the back of my neck prickles.
She continues, “He thinks I’m a key. Something about my blood signature. Half-fae, half-wolf. The ritual confirmed it for him.”
“And for you?”
