Elara woke in Kael's arms.
For one blissful moment, she didn't remember. Didn't remember the battle. Didn't remember the master. Didn't remember the agony of Kael's body going still in her arms.
Then the memories crashed back.
She sat up sharply, heart pounding, hand flying to her chest where the bond pulsed warm and steady. Kael stirred beside her, silver eyes opening, finding her immediately.
"Hey." His voice was rough with sleep. "Hey, I'm here. I'm alive. We're both alive."
Elara pressed her hand to his chest—felt his heart beating, strong and steady. Felt his warmth. His presence. His life.
"You died." Her voice cracked. "I held you and you died."
"I came back." He pulled her close, wrapped himself around her. "You pulled me back. Through the bond. Through the Moon Pool. Through sheer stubborn love." He kissed her hair. "I'm not going anywhere."
She clung to him. Let herself shake. Let herself cry. Let herself feel the terror she'd suppressed while fighting, while grieving, while dragging him back from death.
Kael held her through all of it.
---
Later, much later, they emerged from the chamber.
The palace had transformed overnight. Wolves moved through the corridors with purpose—clearing debris, tending wounds, organizing supplies. The smell of cooking food drifted from somewhere below. Voices called out in languages Elara didn't recognize, but the tone was universal: rebuilding.
Morwenna found them in the great hall, looking a decade younger despite her obvious exhaustion. "Your Highness. Alpha." She inclined her head to both. "The survivors are asking for you. They want to see their queen."
Their queen.
The words still felt strange. Too large. Too heavy.
But Elara nodded. "Take me to them."
---
The courtyard had become a field hospital.
Wounded wolves lay on blankets spread across the stones, some being tended by healers, others simply resting. The dead had been moved—Elara didn't ask where. Didn't think she could bear to know.
As she walked among them, wolves reached out to touch her. Not grabbing—just brushing her hand, her arm, her cloak. Like she was something sacred. Something real.
"You saved us." An elder wolf gripped her hand, tears in his ancient eyes. "My grandmother served your grandmother. I never thought I'd live to see the Silver Crown restored. Thank you. Thank you."
Elara knelt beside him. "I couldn't have done it without all of you. Without your courage. Your loyalty. Your faith." She squeezed his hand. "What's your name?"
"Bran." His voice shook. "Bran of the Misty Peaks pack."
"Bran." She smiled through her own tears. "I'm honored to know you. And I promise—we will rebuild. Together. Every pack that stood with us will have a place in the new kingdom."
Behind her, she heard wolves repeating her words. Passing them through the crowd like a blessing.
Every pack that stood with us will have a place.
That's what a queen does, she realized. Gives hope.
---
The morning passed in a blur of faces and names and stories.
By midday, Elara had spoken with nearly every survivor. Learned their names. Heard their stories. Thanked them personally for their sacrifice.
Kael stayed close through all of it—not overshadowing, but supporting. When her energy flagged, he was there. When her grief threatened to overwhelm, his hand found hers. When she didn't know what to say, his presence gave her strength.
How did I ever survive without you? she thought through the bond.
You didn't, he answered. You just waited until I was worthy of you.
You were always worthy. I just couldn't tell you.
I know. The seal—
Is gone now. She looked at him. You're free. I'm free. We're free.
Together.
Together.
---
The war council gathered at dusk.
Morwenna spread new maps across the table—not battle plans this time, but territories. Packs. The vast network of wolf communities that stretched across the continent.
"Word is spreading," she reported. "The master's death. The Silver heir's awakening. Every pack from the northern wastes to the southern seas will know by month's end."
"And their reactions?" Kael asked.
"Varied. Some will flock to her banner. Others will wait and see. A few—" Morwenna's jaw tightened. "A few will see this as an opportunity. The packs who benefited from the massacre, who rose to power on royal blood—they'll resist. They'll fight."
Like Marlena.
Elara's hands curled into fists. "Blackthorn. What's happening there?"
Cassian spoke, his voice heavy. "Marlena's declared herself temporary Alpha. Half the pack supports her—the ones who always resented Kael's rule. The other half are lying low, waiting to see what happens."
"And the ones who followed us?" Lyra asked. "The families of the wolves who came here?"
"Being watched. Threatened. Marlena's using them as leverage." Cassian's eyes met Elara's. "She's waiting for us to come back. She knows we will."
Of course she does. Because Marlena understood loyalty. Understood that Kael wouldn't abandon his pack, that Elara wouldn't abandon the families of those who'd died for her.
"We have to go back." Elara's voice was quiet but firm. "Not just for Blackthorn—for every pack watching. If we let Marlena hold that territory, if we let her punish those who stood with us, we send a message that loyalty to the Crown means death."
Kael nodded slowly. "Agreed. But we can't take everyone. The wounded need time to heal. The palace needs defenders."
"Then we take a small group." Elara looked around the table. "Volunteers only. Wolves strong enough to travel and fight."
Sera spoke immediately. "Autumn Creek will go."
Bran's ancient voice followed. "Misty Peaks stands with you."
One by one, the pack leaders volunteered. By the end, nearly fifty wolves had offered to march on Blackthorn.
Fifty against however many Marlena had gathered.
Not great odds.
But Elara had faced worse.
---
That night, she stood on the tower with Kael, watching the stars emerge over the palace.
"In two days, we march," she said quietly. "Fifty wolves against whatever Marlena's gathered."
"In two days, we win." Kael's voice was certain. "Because we have something she doesn't."
"What?"
"Each other." He turned her to face him. "A bond that defied death. A love that pulled me back from the void. An army of wolves who believe in you." He touched her face. "Marlena has fear. Ambition. Control. But she doesn't have this."
This.
The bond between them. The trust of their people. The hope of a new beginning.
Elara leaned into him. "When did you get so wise?"
"When I died and came back." His lips quirked. "Gives you perspective."
She laughed—actually laughed, for the first time since the battle. The sound surprised her. Surprised them both.
"There she is." Kael's eyes softened. "The woman who survived an orphanage, a rejection, a kidnapping, a war, and a mate who wouldn't stay dead. Laughing at the stars."
"At you," she corrected. "I'm laughing at you."
"Even better."
He kissed her.
And for a moment, there was no war. No Marlena. No uncertainty about the future.
Just them. Just the bond. Just love.
---
End of Chapter 21🐺