Iris Thorne POV
Iris didn't walk back to the cottage.
She ran.
Her power was crackling wildly around her, completely unstable. Silver light bled from her hands in jagged bursts. Her eyes were glowing so bright they hurt to look at. The ground beneath her feet left scorched marks where she stepped.
She'd done it. She'd thrown his words back at him. She'd watched all five Alphas break. She'd gotten exactly what she came for.
So why did it feel hollow?
The forest responded to her anger. Trees twisted and bent. Plants wilted as she passed, their life force draining into her. Then they grew back wildly, too fast, too green, like they were trying to escape what she was doing to them.
When she reached the cottage, Lyanna was waiting on the porch.
The witch looked like she'd been expecting this exact moment. She nodded slowly, her violet eyes taking in everything. The crackling power. The tears streaming down Iris's face that she hadn't even realized were there. The way her whole body was shaking.
"Come inside," Lyanna said. Not a request. A command.
Iris followed her.
The cottage was warm and smelled like herbs and ancient magic. Lyanna walked to her table and swept aside everything that had been there. She spread out ancient texts. Old parchments. Paintings so old the colors were faded but still visible.
"Sit," Lyanna commanded.
Iris sat.
The witch pointed to a painting. A woman with violet eyes and black hair, glowing with silver light. The same painting from the stone circle. But this time there was more. Behind her stood five Alphas. Not kneeling. Standing. Beside her. Supporting her.
"The Moonbound Queen," Lyanna said quietly. "She appears once every thousand years. Chosen by the Moon Goddess herself. Born into the wolf kingdoms. Bound by magic that is older than the mountains."
Iris couldn't look away from the painting.
"Five mates," Lyanna continued. "Five Alphas meant to anchor the magic. To give her a place to stand. To ground her power so it doesn't consume her from the inside out."
"I don't want five mates. I don't want any of them."
Lyanna's expression didn't change.
"The rejections were not mistakes, child. They were necessary." The witch tapped the old texts. "The Moonbound Queen is born weak. Fragile. If the Alphas had claimed her without her being broken first, she would have been destroyed by the power awakening inside her. The rejections broke you. Made you small enough that when the magic grew, it didn't shatter you."
Iris stood up suddenly. "I don't care about prophecies or magic or any of this. I came back to make them suffer."
"And you did." Lyanna didn't move. "But suffering is only half the equation, Iris."
The witch spread more texts across the table. Charts. Symbols. Words in languages Iris didn't recognize.
"The magic that sleeps inside you is not something you can control forever on your own," Lyanna said, her voice gentle but firm. "Halfway measures will kill you. You either accept the bonds with all five Alphas and use them to anchor your power, or you reject them completely and the magic consumes you from the inside out."
"How long do I have?"
"Before it kills you?" Lyanna met her eyes. "The rejections gave you time. Seven years from the ceremony. You have four left."
Four years.
Iris felt the magic pulling at her bones suddenly. She'd been ignoring it, pushing it down, focusing only on vengeance. But now that Lyanna had said it out loud, she could feel it. The weight of it. The constant pressure. The way it was growing heavier each day, demanding something from her.
She walked to the window and looked out at the twisted forest.
"What if I don't want to be the Moonbound Queen?" Her voice was small. Broken.
"Then you die." Lyanna's answer was cruel and honest. "The magic has already chosen you. You cannot unchoose yourself. But you can choose what you do about it."
Iris's hands started shaking.
She'd spent three years preparing for vengeance. Three years training her power and building armor around her heart. Three years telling herself that breaking them was all she needed. That seeing them suffer would make the pain go away.
But it didn't.
Standing in that temple, watching Kael's face crumple, seeing his golden eyes fill with tears, feeling his wolf scream her name through the bond that wouldn't complete, it hadn't felt like victory. It had felt like watching him die.
And she realized something terrible.
She didn't just want to destroy them. Part of her wanted to forgive them. Part of her wanted to feel Kael's arms around her again. Part of her wanted to believe that this could work, even after everything.
That part of her was the problem.
"I can't accept them," Iris whispered. "What they did to me. What they said. I can't just forgive that."
"You don't have to forgive them," Lyanna said. "You have to survive."
Lyanna walked over and took both of Iris's hands. Her grip was strong and sure.
"The magic will make them come for you," the witch said. "The rejected bonds are screaming at them. Their wolves are desperate to complete what was started. They will find you. They will beg. They will try to prove themselves worthy."
Iris pulled her hands away.
"I don't want their apologies."
"I know. But you will need their strength." Lyanna's voice was the most serious Iris had ever heard it. "The power inside you is ancient and vast and beautiful. But it is also consuming. If you try to hold it alone, it will burn you from the inside out. You need five anchors. Five mates. Five Alphas strong enough to support what you are becoming."
The weight of the words crashed over Iris like a tidal wave.
She came back for vengeance.
But she couldn't have both vengeance and survival. The magic wouldn't allow it.
She had to choose. Destroy them and watch herself die. Or accept them and live with the knowledge that she'd forgiven the people who'd broken her most.
Neither choice felt survivable.
"When will they come?" Iris asked.
"Soon." Lyanna moved to the fire. "They are already searching. Their desperation is loud. Their wolves are howling for you. And the magic is pulling them all toward you like moths to flame."
As if in response to Lyanna's words, Iris felt a strange pulling sensation in her chest. The broken mate bonds reaching out. Trying to connect. Trying to pull her back toward them.
She pushed the feeling away.
But she knew the witch was right. They would come. And when they did, she would have to decide.
Lyanna turned back to her, and her expression was the most serious it had ever been.
"They will come for you," the witch said. "And you will have to choose between vengeance and survival. The magic will not let you have both."