The gods hung in the sky like burning stars, their forms cloaked in fire and light, their voices shaking the bones of wolves and men alike.
"You cannot exist," one thundered, his face hidden in flame. "Alpha and Witch. Flame and Fang. Your bond breaks the balance."
Kael bared his teeth, his massive wolf shifting half-form, claws digging into the scorched earth. His green eyes blazed with fury as he stood before Aradia, his chest bleeding, his breath ragged.
"Balance be damned," he growled, his voice shaking the mountains. "She is mine. My mate. My Queen. You will not take her."
The gods' light flickered. Some turned away, uncertain. But one—taller, crowned in fire—descended, his voice sharp.
"She belongs to no wolf. No man. She is flame eternal. Her fire is not love. It is destruction."
Aradia's body trembled, her fire flickering wildly in her palms. She remembered the vision, the gods calling her too strong, too dangerous to exist.
But Kael turned, his massive hand catching her chin, his lips brushing hers fiercely. "You are not curse. You are not destruction. You are Aradia. My fire. My life. My everything."
Her fire surged—not wild, not uncontrolled, but steady, golden, wrapping around them both like a crown.
The gods faltered. The shadow roared.
And the war thundered on.