The moon was sinking low, shrouded behind streaks of cloud when Kael's warriors moved through the misted forest — silent, deadly, and precise. The air was thick with pine and tension. Between them, wrapped in a dark cloak, lay Elara. Her breathing was shallow, her skin pale from the wolfsbane that still lingered in her veins. Yet, even in her weakened state, her presence commanded the quiet reverence of every Blackridge wolf present. She was the center of their Alpha's storm — the lost moon Kael had finally reclaimed.
Kael rode at the front, his eyes flickering gold beneath his hood as he scanned the treeline. His wolf snarled beneath the surface, half-mad with the need to protect her, to feel her heartbeat steady again. She's alive. That's all that matters, he kept repeating to himself, as if it could calm the fire raging through him.
Amara followed behind them, her steps slowing with every crunch of dead leaves beneath her boots. Each pace took her further from the Silvercrest territory, and closer to treason. She didn't regret it — not one bit — but she knew what waited for her when she went back. Lies. Scrutiny. Blood, if the elders ever suspected her betrayal.
When they finally reached the border between Silvercrest and Blackridge lands, Kael gave a low signal to halt. His warriors spread out, forming a protective half-circle around Elara. Amara stepped forward, clutching her cloak tightly around her shoulders.
"This is where we part," she said, her voice rough from exhaustion. "If I go missing too long, they'll send someone after me. I need to make this look real."
Kael turned to her, his piercing gaze narrowing. "You've done enough. You don't need to risk more."
But Amara shook her head sharply. "You don't understand. If I return untouched, they'll question everything. They'll know I betrayed them. I need them to believe I fought for Elara… and lost."
Ryden frowned. "You're talking about letting us hurt you?"
"Not pretend hurt," Amara said firmly. "It needs to look real."
The warriors exchanged uneasy glances, but Kael didn't look away. He understood sacrifice. He knew what loyalty demanded.
"If this is truly what you want," he said, his voice low but steady, "then I'll make sure it looks convincing. No more than necessary."
Amara nodded once, jaw clenched. "Do it."
The forest seemed to hold its breath as Kael stepped closer. His clawed hand caught her arm — firm, deliberate — before dragging his knuckles lightly along her jaw. In a single, swift motion, he struck, his claws raking across her cheek. Blood welled instantly, a crimson line glistening in the moonlight. She gritted her teeth, refusing to cry out.
Ryden winced as Kael continued, delivering a controlled blow to her ribs. The dull thud echoed through the trees. Amara stumbled, gasping but refusing to fall. Her courage burned brighter than the pain.
"That's enough," Ryden muttered, stepping between them. "She's done more than any of us expected."
Kael nodded grimly, wiping the blood from his knuckles. "They'll believe you fought until the end."
Amara straightened, trembling but resolute. "Good. Then maybe Elara has a chance." She turned her eyes to Elara's still form, a flicker of emotion breaking through her composure. "Take care of her. She deserves better than the wolves she was born among."
Ryden inclined his head. "She'll be safe with us. You have my word."
Before she could answer, Ryden added, "Kieran helped us — that's how we made it to the border unnoticed. He came to us in the forest. Said he wanted to make things right."
Amara's brows furrowed. "Kieran? He… helped you?"
Kael's expression darkened. "He betrayed his pack — again. But this time, it served our purpose."
"I see," Amara murmured. "Then maybe guilt has finally done something useful."
Kael gave a low grunt of agreement before turning to his warriors. "Move. We head for the Blackridge border before dawn."
The warriors obeyed immediately, lifting Elara's unconscious form onto a sturdy mount. Ryden gave one last glance to Amara, who was now kneeling in the dirt, clutching her side as the blood dripped freely down her cheek.
"Make it convincing," Kael said quietly.
Amara smirked faintly through the pain. "I always do."
As they vanished into the shadows, Amara remained still for a long time, listening to the wind whisper through the trees. The forest around her was alive with silence — the kind that only came after something irreversible had been done. When she finally stood, her cloak heavy with blood, she started her long walk back to Silvercrest.
Back at the pack house, Beta Garrick waited in his quarters, pacing before the hearth. His heart pounded as he rehearsed the story he'd prepared: Amara had tried to save Elara, but Kael's forces overpowered her. She fought bravely, but it wasn't enough.
He poured himself a glass of whiskey and sat, eyes flicking to the door every few seconds. The lie weighed heavy on his tongue, but it was the only way to buy them time — time for Elara to be far from Roran's reach.
When the door finally opened and Amara stumbled in, covered in dirt and blood, Garrick's relief was swallowed by grim approval.
"You look worse than I expected," he muttered, half-gruff, half-grateful.
Amara gave a shaky laugh. "Good. Then they'll believe every word."
Garrick stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Rest while you can. When the elders summon you, we'll sell this lie together."
Amara's gaze hardened, pain flickering in her eyes. "Let's hope it's enough."
Because if it wasn't — if the elders or Roran saw through them — both of their heads would roll before the next moonrise.