“I never accepted the role. You know this.”
He shrugs, leather creaking softly. “Doesn’t mean the Solara Pack isn’t still waiting for you to return.”
Why the hell would they want that? I abandoned them when they needed me most, left them in the beta’s hands with nothing more than agood luckbefore walking away. They’re stubborn fools for clinging to the ghost of an alpha who has no intention of coming back.
But something tells me Elias isn’t at NightShade for a heartfelt reunion.
“If you’re here for Rowan, you’re wasting your time,” I say, letting my voice sharpen. “She’s not up for grabs.”
He lifts his hands in mock surrender. “Easy, Cade. I’m not here to claim anyone—romantically or contractually.” His lips twitch with something close to amusement, but his eyes stay dead serious. “I came here as a courtesy to you. When I heard you were guarding the manor, I knew what that had to mean. It was never a secret how you felt about the prophecy. So, if she’s still free and breathing, that only means one thing.”
I don’t say it. I’m not ready for the world to know, but what I want doesn’t much matter.
“She’s your mate,” he adds. “Which makes her just as much our Alpha as you are. Those who still stand with you, will also stand with her. However you need us to.”
His choice of words grate on my nerves, but if he’s telling the truth, if the Solara Pack still sees me as their leader, I’d be a fool not to use that to my advantage in keeping Rowan safe, but not yet. Not until she’s ready.
“I assume your presence isn’t the courtesy you speak of?” I ask, needing this conversation to move away from my mate status.
He shakes his head, the sunlight catching on the silver strands in his hair. “I wish it were that simple, but the packs are talking, Cade. You know nothing stays quiet for long. They’re all already aware that you’re here. They know the hybrid Hollowborn has surfaced. Some say leave her alone, let the prophecy burn itself out. But there are plenty who want to capture her for their own reasons—power, vengeance, politics, take your pick.” His mouth tightens. “More importantly, the council is gathering at midnight tonight.”
He glances toward the tree line, eyes narrowing.My gaze follows, and I know he’s locked onto the same thing I am—the distant movement of Rowan and Liz returning from their littlewalk.
“Tell me you have a plan.” He looks back at me, and I expect judgment, but there’s only hope in his gaze.
I do. To kill anyone who tries to touch my mate. Though, I don’t tell him that.
“I’m handling it,” is all he gets out of me.
He pleads with me, his voice carrying a weight that makes the air between us feel heavier. “You think you’ve been hiding, Westin, but the Council’s patience is thinning. Her presence has made it worse. You might have left to go rogue, but you should have known they wouldn’t let you go that easily. The balance of power has been broken since your father died. Some seasons that’s worked well for them, but not all of them. Now with the arrival of the Ashmark? Innocent people are going to be hurt.”
“All because of a stupid prophecy that could mean a million different things.” My jaw locks so tight my molars ache. “They’re trying to build a monster out of a woman who doesn’t even know how to shift yet.”
“They’re building an excuse,” Elias says, cutting through my anger with quiet precision. “To restore order. Or to seize power, depending on who you ask.”
The wind picks up, carrying the sharp scent of pine and rain-soaked leaves, but it does nothing to cool the heat in my chest. Silence stretches between us until Elias reaches into his back pocket. The motion is slow, deliberate, as though he’s weighing whether to give me whatever he’s holding.
He pulls out a folded piece of parchment, the wax seal stamped with the Council’s insignia: a ring of six interlocking wolf sigils, each one representing the various packs. Even from a distance, the emblem makes my skin crawl.
“I don’t want that,” I say, crossing my arms like a barricade between us. “Whatever they have to say isn’t anything I’ll believe anyway.”
“Maybe you should.” He holds it out to me, his golden eyes just a few shades lighter than mine and steady. “The Council is convening. They’re drafting new laws. Ones that target hybrids of any kind. Ones that could legalize—under Council law—the hunting of anyone who fits her description.”
My blood goes cold, as if winter itself has taken root in my veins.
“She’s practically human,” I snap, my tone harsher than intended.
“One who is prophesied to unmake the supernatural world as we know it,” Elias says evenly. “Whether it’s true or not won’t matter. Belief is enough to start a war.”
I take the parchment, and the wax seal melts under my thumb. My grip tightens until the edges of the paper bite into my skin and a growl rises from deep in my chest, spilling out into the open air. The sound ricochets off the manor’s stone walls and disappears into the trees, but its meaning is clear enough.
“I won’t let them touch her.”
Elias studies me for a long moment, something unreadable in his gaze before he nods once. “Then you’d better stop pretending you’re not still an alpha.”
And with that, he turns on his heel and walks away, stepping off the roof, and going inside the manor as though he’s already been invited in.
I stand there, the parchment still burning in my hand, and a curse under my breath.
