I turn from the unrecognizable woman to the gathering of cloaked people ahead, my breath catching when I hear an echo of many voices resounding through the valley.
“This is how it ends…” the voices echo in unison, the forms of cloaked figures breaking apart and disappearing with the wind like golden specks. I look up to see a black, gaping hole above the mountains, a chill running down my spine when I sense the demons heavily in the swirling portal.
When I look down again, I’m back to reality, back to seeing Damian lying helplessly on the ground, but something changes in my palms, and it isn’t fire I’m wielding anymore.
It’s golden dust, like the specks of the people in cloaks from the vision I just had, showering from my hands. There’s a quiet recognition that awakens inside me.
The people in cloaks were my ancestors, and they just showed me how to end the war with the demons, while bestowing a new way of healing upon me. The golden lightspreads through Damian’s chest, filling every corner of him until the color returns to his face, and his eyes spring open.
“Damian…?”
“Sophie!” Damian instantly rises as if nothing happened to him, flinging his arms around me and pulling me into a hug. Of relief. From both of us.
The tears fall effortlessly from my eyes as I settle snugly into his arms, the weight of the dangers finally releasing from my shoulders, even if they do exist, entering our world through the portal I saw in that vision. But what matters the most right now is being in Damian’s arms, after nearly losing him—something I’ve discovered I could never live with.
I pull back, teary-eyed, vision hazy as I blink at him and sniff, the sounds and presence of the other wolves drowned out amidst this sacred reunion between us.
“I love you, Damian!” I blurt out. “Don’t ever do that to me again!”
Damian just stares at me, blinking, brows lightly furrowed, when he responds naturally, “I love you too, Sophie. I’ve always loved you. I think you always—”
“Yes. I always did, Damian. I always loved you. I never stopped.” I’m breathing heavily at this point, grabbing his face with a cupped hand. “Please kiss me, and show me that you’re real, you’re alive.”
Damian drinks in the sob that lurches from my chest, his lips all I needed to calm down, while his love for me remains an anchor that I need moving forward.
The threat may not be gone, but I have an idea how we can put an end to the demons once and for all. We just need time, patience, and each other.
Epilogue - Damian
Two Weeks Later
The council chamber feels different compared to what it did almost two months ago.
It isn’t quieter—if anything, there are more voices than before—but it feels steadier, more controlled. Less like a room bracing for collapse and more like one learning how to breathe again. The long stone table still bears scorch marks from the demon attack two weeks ago, grooves carved by claws and fists and magic flaring too close to desperation, but no one comments on them anymore.
We’d been fighting for our lives in the clearing, and the demons had tried to destray our living area, starting with the council chamber of the Red Moon territory.
The damage has become part of the record. Proof that we survived something we weren’t meant to. That’s why the meeting cabin had been rebuilt. Not to hide the evidence of what happened when it was nearly destroyed in the battle, but rather, to show that pieces can be picked up, that we can rebuild if we work together.
Sophie sits beside me as Heinrich speaks, her presence calm in a way that would have unsettled the room a month ago. Now, no one flinches at her being here. No one whispers. Not even Conan scowls at her anymore, but it’s mostly because he can’t bring himself to look at her and accept how wrong he was in the past.
When Sophie shifts her weight, when she folds her hands loosely in front of her, the council watches with the same quiet attention they’d give any leader whose words mattered.
Heinrich clears his throat. “The ritual will be performed in two days’ time,” he says, voice steady despite the strain beneath it. “We’ve delayed long enough. Whatever strength remains to us…We can’t afford to let it bleed away.”
No one argues with his quiet confidence and acceptance of what needs to be done.
They don’t need to.
This has been agreed upon by everyone in this room, and it’s the last hope for the other alphas and their packs. With no demon attack for the last two weeks, it's a good time to go through with the ritual, and Heinrich will have to act fast when it comes to convincing his fated mate—whoever she is—to follow him to Silver Stone.
The truth has been laid bare since Sophie shared her vision—since she described the portal, the lineage, the reason the demons have been pressing harder each year while we weakened in ways we didn’t want to name. The fated mate bonds weren’t a gift. They were a response to the threat we’re faced with. A last, desperate recalibration of a world trying to correct itself, but we have to proceed with caution.
Iron Breath will follow Heinrich’s lead. Then the other wolves will follow suit. One by one, we’ll either adapt and conquer…or we won’t survive what’s coming next. Either way, what Sophie saw felt like prophecy, and in it, she saw two others just like her.
The fated mates of Heinrich and Conan.
When the meeting adjourns, the weight of leadership doesn’t feel lighter, but it no longer feels solitary.
