The fog rolled heavy over the Blackridge encampment, muffling every sound but the low crackle of fire. Shadows moved between the trees — wolves in human form, their eyes catching faint light like shards of amber.
Kael Thorn stood at the edge of camp, silent as the mountain that bore his pack's name. The cold didn't touch him. It never did anymore.
He had been tracking Elara's scent for days. It was faint, fading — like she was deliberately erasing herself from the earth. And the thought of losing that trace again clawed at something primal inside him.
"Alpha," Ryden murmured, approaching with steady steps. His Beta's expression was a mix of exhaustion and curiosity. "Our scouts have returned."
Kael didn't turn immediately. "Did they find anything?"
"They found someone."
That caught his attention. He turned, eyes sharp as a blade. "Who?"
Ryden hesitated. "A Silvercrest wolf. Said his name was Kieran Vale."
The silence that followed was colder than the air.
Kael's hands clenched at his sides. "Vale," he repeated slowly, as if testing the taste of the name. "That's the one who—"
"Yes," Ryden said quietly. "The one who rejected her."
For a long moment, Kael said nothing. The fire behind him hissed, the flames bending with the wind.
"Bring them," he ordered at last.
The two scouts entered first — tall, grim, eyes lowered in deference. Behind them came Kieran.
He looked smaller than Kael remembered. Not in size, but in presence. His pride, his arrogance — gone, replaced with a brittle desperation that clung to him like ash. His hair was unkempt, his armor dull. But his eyes still carried that familiar defiance, even when fear trembled underneath.
He knelt, though not gracefully. "Alpha Thorn."
Kael regarded him in silence. He had killed enemies with less effort than it took not to crush the boy's throat.
"You've got a nerve stepping into my camp," Kael said at last, voice low and steady. "Your pack is lucky I haven't torn through Silvercrest already."
Kieran's jaw tightened. "I came to make things right."
Kael's eyes glinted like frost. "Right?" He took a slow step forward, the word dripping with disdain. "You think there's right left after what you did?"
Kieran flinched, but forced himself to meet Kael's gaze. "I know I don't deserve forgiveness. But I can help you find her."
Ryden crossed his arms, skeptical. "And why would you do that? She's your packmate. Or is that word meaningless in Silvercrest now?"
Kieran's voice cracked as he spoke. "Because I ruined her life. Because my father thinks I'm a disgrace. Because I need to fix something before I lose everything."
The desperation in his voice was real — but Kael didn't move. He simply watched, measuring every word, every tremor.
"You think handing her over to me would fix anything?" Kael asked quietly. "Do you even understand what you're saying?"
"I know what you want," Kieran said, taking a step forward before the guards growled him back. "You're not after Silvercrest. You're after her. I can lead you to where she'll run next — she never hides where she can't see the stars. She—she used to go to the old clearing near the western ridge."
The air stilled.
Kael's wolf bristled beneath his skin. He didn't want to hear how Kieran knew Elara. Didn't want to picture her running to the same places she once had before everything broke.
For a moment, he almost dismissed the boy. Almost told his men to drag him out of camp.
But then — something in Kieran's scent caught his attention. Guilt. Fear. Truth.
He wasn't lying.
Kael turned to Ryden. "Keep him under guard. If he lies, end it."
Ryden nodded. "Understood."
Kieran looked up sharply. "Wait—you'll let me help?"
Kael's eyes were unreadable. "You'll lead us to the clearing. If she's there, we'll know."
"And if she's not?"
Kael's voice dropped to a growl. "Then you'll pray she is."
Hours later, long after the camp quieted, Kael remained awake. The forest outside was alive — distant howls echoing through the fog, the heartbeat of the hunt pulsing beneath the soil.
Ryden approached again, slower this time. "You don't trust him."
Kael didn't look up. "I don't trust anyone who betrays their own."
"Then why let him come?"
Kael finally turned his gaze toward the distant mountains. "Because sometimes, betrayal leads you to truth."
Ryden was quiet, studying his Alpha's face — the faint shadow of something more than anger there.
"You still feel her," Ryden said softly.
Kael's eyes flicked to him, sharp as claws. "Watch your words."
But Ryden didn't back down. "It's not weakness, Kael. The bond may have broken, but something of her still pulls at you. That's why you can't stop."
Kael looked away. "You don't understand. When she left, it didn't just tear the bond — it tore me."
He clenched his hands, the faint pulse of his wolf flickering behind his eyes. "If she's out there, if she's in danger… I need to know. Even if she never wants to see me again."
The silence hung heavy between them, broken only by the wind weaving through the trees.
Finally, Ryden said, "Then I'll keep the boy close. If he tries anything—"
Kael nodded. "I know."
Far from the campfire's reach, Kieran sat bound near a pine, his head bowed. The night pressed in around him, thick with the smell of frost and pine sap. He could hear them—Kael's wolves—moving through the trees, preparing to hunt.
For a fleeting moment, he wondered if this was what redemption felt like — being devoured slowly by guilt, wrapped in the jaws of something far greater than himself.
And still, deep down, a part of him hoped Elara would never see him again.
Because if Kael found her first, Kieran wasn't sure she'd ever forgive either of them.