I’m still here, still present, but disconnected. My limbs won’t respond. My chest won’t rise. The commands never reach their destination.
The Fade blurs around me, colors bleeding into one another. Forms lose definition. The pack’s outlines waver like heatmirages. Their movements slow to a crawl, then freeze in suspended animation.
Callum’s mouth opens in a shout I can’t hear. Ben lunges forward but never arrives. Harper’s hands reach out, fingers spread wide toward something I can’t see.
Sound drops away next. Not muffled. Gone. Complete absence. The vibration of the circuit, the shuffle of movement, even my own heartbeat—all silent.
I try to move my hand. The thought forms clearly, but nothing happens. I try again. Nothing.
The world tilts sideways. Perspective shifts without warning. I’m looking at the ceiling, then the floor, then nowhere at all. Space becomes theoretical. Time becomes optional.
But Nova …
I can still sense her. Not see, not hear, just ... feel. Her frequency hums at the edge of my awareness. The silver signature of her scar pulses once, twice, flickering like a distant star.
Understanding breaks through the fog. The circuit wasn’t meant to destroy. It was meant to complete. To incorporate. To acquire Nova’s signature as the final component in whatever Faelan was building.
I didn’t shield her from damage. I prevented completion. By stepping between them, I became the variable that would not align. The equation fractured around me, unable to process what I am.
Not wolf enough. Not angel enough. Just ... incompatible.
Her energy signature flickers again, fainter now. Not because she’s fading. Because I am.
Somewhere beyond my reach, the pack is still fighting. Still moving. Still alive. I can’t see them, but I know. Ash Hollow will hold. They don’t need my orders anymore. They need my example.
And this is it. Standing between the darkness and what matters. No hesitation. No regret.
Nova’s signal dims further. The silver light recedes toward the horizon of my awareness. I don’t try to follow. I let it go.
My heart beats once. Slow. Deliberate.
Not a surrender. A choice.
The silver light fades completely.
And there is quiet.
Not emptiness.
Peace.
Chapter 40
Nova
The Fade shatters like glass around me. Not breaking—refracting. Light splinters into impossible angles. Sound compresses, then expands, then disappears entirely. My visual field fractures into overlapping planes, reality splitting along its seams.
One moment, Dane stands between Faelan and me, solid and immovable.
The next—an absence.
The void hits me before any visual confirmation. His frequency—the steady, iron-dense pulse I’ve been tracking since we entered—simply stops. No fade-out. No echo. Just ... cut.
My scar responds instantly, pulsing silver-bright against the distortion. The circuit that’s been trying to claim merecalibrates, focusing with renewed intensity. I feel it scan me, assess me, lock onto the dissonance Dane’s absence created.
I can’t see him. Can’t hear him. The Fade won’t let me.
But I know exactly what he did.
