Amira's POV
"Come and get on the bike."
Jimmy's voice cut sharply through the rising chaos of shouts that filled the packhouse hall. Father and Marcus still stood locked in their confrontation, two storm fronts pressing against each other with barely restrained fury.
Warriors from both sides had their hands hovering near weapons; their fingers were twitching on hilts and sheaths. Steel rasped halfway out of leather as tension mounted. Father's eyes had already begun to glow with the first faint edge of wolf-light, a warning that the shift toward violence was close.
I stared at Jimmy, my pulse loud in my ears. "What?"
"I said, get on the bike." His fingers closed around my wrist with a grip that was firm but careful, never crossing into pain. "Unless you want to stay here and watch our fathers tear each other apart right in front of everyone."
The entire room vibrated with barely contained violence. I could smell it rising in the air: sharp adrenaline, hot anger, and the faint copper promise of blood that was only moments away from being spilled.
"Where are we going?"
"Anywhere we can actually talk without fifty wolves breathing down our necks and listening to every word." He was already pulling me toward the door, his stride long and purposeful.
"Amira!" Father's voice boomed across the hall like thunder rolling through stone. Every head in the room snapped toward us at once. "Stay where you are."
I froze for half a second. The old instinct of obedience clashed violently with the scream in my blood that demanded movement, air and escape from the suffocating pressure of every pair of eyes fixed on me.
Jimmy turned without letting go of my wrist. He met Father's glare directly and unflinchingly. "With respect, Alpha Vale, your daughter is my mate. That gives me rights, whether you accept them or not."
Silence crashed down like a physical weight; no one breathed or even moved a muscle.
Father's face cycled through a storm of emotions: fury first, then betrayal, and finally something rawer that looked almost like grief. His jaw clenched so tightly that a muscle ticked visibly along the line of his cheek. "She has not accepted the bond."
"And she has not rejected it either." Jimmy's gaze shifted to me. It was steady and searching, holding no judgment. "Have you?"
The words lodged in my throat like sharp stones. Mates were supposed to feel like coming home after a long hunt. They were supposed to settle something deep inside you. Not like this and not like standing on the edge of a cliff with the wind shoving hard at your back and a blade already waiting on the rocks below.
"I need time to think," I managed to say.
"Time ran out three hours ago." His thumb brushed once across the inside of my wrist, barely a touch, but it sent heat racing up my arm like wildfire spreading through dry summer grass. "The Blood Moon rises in three hours, Amira. Three hours until your shift begins and three hours until everything changes forever."
Marcus stepped forward into the tense circle of silence. He carried the same black hair as his son, the same sharp features carved from years of hard decisions and the same coiled danger in every line of his body. "Let them go, Dorian. They need to face this before the moon forces the choice on them."
"Face what exactly?" Father's voice cracked on the final word and was raw in a way I had never heard before. "On how he is going to kill my daughter."
"No... on how they are going to survive what is coming, together." Marcus corrected quietly.
His gaze settled on Jimmy without wavering. "If the old stories hold true and if she truly is the Hollow Wolf, then my son may be the only one who can anchor her through the shift."
"And if he fails?"
"Then we deal with that when it happens." Marcus's eyes never left his son. "Take her somewhere safe. Somewhere private to talk, but Jimmy... if you hurt her, mate bond or no mate bond, I will end you myself."
Jimmy gave one sharp nod of acknowledgment.
He looked back at me. "Your choice, Amira. Stay here and let them decide your fate for you. Or come with me and at least try to take control of it while you still can."
When he put it that way, the answer felt simple and at the same time terrifying. But simple.
"I am going with him," I said. I looked straight at Father without flinching.
His face hardened into something cold and unreadable, like stone carved by winter wind. "Then you defy a direct order."
"Yes. I do."
For a long heartbeat, I thought he might physically step forward and block the door with his body, but instead, he did something far worse. He turned his back on me completely.
"So be it." His voice came out flat and final. "But when you crawl back tonight, do not expect me to save you from your own foolishness."
The rejection landed heavier than any physical blow ever could.
Eira started moving toward me, with a concern clear on her face. I shook my head once and sharply. If she touched me right, then I would shatter completely. I could not afford to shatter.
Jimmy led me outside without another word. His bike waited in the driveway, black chrome and raw power, built to devour miles without hesitation. He handed me a helmet. "Ever been on one before?"
"No."
"Then hold on tight and try not to panic."
He swung his leg over the seat. The engine roared to life beneath us. The vibration sank deep into my bones like a second, fiercer heartbeat.
I climbed on behind him and my arms wrapped around his waist.
His body felt solid and warm even through the thick leather of his jacket. Muscle shifted under my hands as he kicked off and we shot down the driveway.
Wind tore at my hair immediately. It stung my eyes and whipped strands across my face. The forest blurred into long streaks of green and gold on either side.
For the first time in months, something inside my chest loosened. It was not peace and at the same time, it was not safety. It was simply motion, raw, clean and fast enough to leave every heavy thought behind for a few precious minutes.
We rode for twenty minutes, deeper into the woods than I had ever gone alone. He slowed the bike gradually and turned onto a narrow dirt track that was barely wide enough for the tires. Just then, an old cabin appeared between the trees ahead.