Chapter 42:
“Osric, you’re in charge here,” I said, my tone leaving no room for argument.
His mouth opened, as if to protest, but when he saw the resolve in my eyes, he nodded.
“Be careful,” he said, his voice gruff.
I didn’t waste time responding. I tore through the forest, my claws digging into the earth with each step. The sounds of battle grew louder, snarls and yelps filling the air as the scent of blood became stronger.
When I broke through the treeline, the sight before me made my heart seize.
The southern border was chaos. Wolves clashed in a tangle of fur and claws, the ground beneath them slick with blood. Dante stood at the center, his movements a blur as he fended off two rogues at once. Beyond him, Merris fought a massive wolf—Silas’s second-in-command. Her movements were precise, but she was being driven back, step by step.
“Hold the line!” I shouted, throwing myself into the fray.
The pack surged around me, their strength renewed as we pushed back against Silas’s forces. I reached Dante, our eyes meeting for the briefest moment. In his gaze, I saw exhaustion, determination, and something else—something that steadied me in a way I hadn’t expected.
Together, we fought, our movements synchronized as we drove the rogues back. Step by step, we turned the tide. And though the battle was far from over, one truth became clear: Silas had underestimated us. And that would be his downfall.
POV: Dante
Returning to Talon Pack territory felt like stepping into a dream I hadn’t allowed myself to have for years. The familiar scent of pine and damp earth, the towering trees stretching skyward, the distant murmur of the pack—it was all the same. And yet, everything felt different. The warmth of belonging I once associated with this place had been replaced with the chill of mistrust. It followed me like a shadow, carried in the wary glances of the wolves I passed, their eyes filled with suspicion and guarded curiosity.
𝕄ØЯE 𝕌PĐΛTΞŞ IИ GΛŁИØVΞŁŞ.ᑕØᗰ
I didn’t blame them. To them, I was the wolf who had abandoned his family, who had walked away and stayed gone. Now, my return wasn’t just unexpected—it was unwelcome. The weight of their judgment settled heavily on me, but I pushed it aside. I hadn’t come back for their forgiveness. I had come back for her.
When I saw Elara across the compound, my heart lurched. She stood near the training grounds, speaking with Osric and Celia. The wind caught her hair, and for a moment, I was struck by the sight of her—the fierce determination in her posture, the fire in her eyes. She looked every bit the Alpha she was meant to be, and it hit me harder than I expected.
Once, I had dreamed of standing where she was now, of leading the pack with strength and vision. I had believed it was my destiny to be Alpha, to guide Talon Pack into a new era. But fate had a cruel sense of humor. That dream had been stripped away, and now, watching Elara carry the weight of leadership, I felt a mixture of pride and something far darker—an ache I couldn’t quite name.
She caught sight of me, her gaze locking on mine. For a fleeting moment, I thought I saw something familiar—a flicker of warmth, a memory shared—but it vanished as quickly as it appeared, replaced by the guarded steel of an Alpha. She approached with measured steps, her expression unreadable, her presence commanding. The wolves nearby quieted, their attention shifting toward us. I could feel their eyes burning into me, their distrust a palpable force.
“Dante.” Her voice was calm, cool, but the undercurrent of tension was unmistakable.
“Elara.” I nodded, keeping my voice steady.
“You’ve grown into your role.”
Her lips twitched, but there was no smile.
“And you’ve returned, unannounced, after all this time. You must know how that looks.”
“I know.” The weight of her words pressed against my chest, but I didn’t flinch.
“I came because I heard about Silas. His plans, his growing power—it’s not something I can ignore.”
“And you think we can trust you?” Her tone was sharp, each word a blade.
