Chapter 98 Another New Year
CALLUM
Two years. It's been two years since my father died.
Two years since the New Year's Eve party where everything changed. Where I went from second-born son with a defined future to exiled Omega with nothing.
I'm sitting on the Rookeries rooftop. Watching the sun set. Seven days until Parliamentary hunters come to kill us all.
Two years.
Everything's different.
I was pack member then. Beta-in-training. My brother's loyal supporter. Believed in the system. Believed in hierarchy. Believed family meant something.
Now I'm exiled outcast leading eighty-three packless wolves in doomed resistance against vampire Parliament.
My father would be proud. Or horrified. Maybe both.
The roof access door opens. Danny climbs up. Arm in a sling from the rescue mission.
"Thought I'd find you here." He sits beside me. "Brooding?"
"Reflecting."
"Same thing for you." Danny lights a cigarette. "Two years since Alpha Ronan died. I remember that party. You and Cormac were supposed to celebrate succession together. Instead your father had a heart attack and everything went to hell."
"Yeah."
"You ever think about how different things would be? If he'd lived? If Cormac hadn't framed you?"
"Sometimes. I'd be Beta. Cormac would be Alpha. Pack would be stable. Normal." I look at the Rookeries spread below us. "But these eighty-three wolves would still be abandoned. Still dying in gutters. Still going feral alone."
"So you're glad it happened?"
"No. But I'm glad I'm here now. Helping them." I stand. Stretch. The silver wound pulls. Still infected. Isla's treatments are slowing the poisoning but not stopping it. "Three more days until this kills me. Four if I'm lucky."
"That's cheerful."
"Being realistic." I point to the bandage under my shirt. "Silver poisoning doesn't care about optimism. Either I get magical healing or I die."
"We'll find magical healing."
"From where? Tom's unconscious. The Hermetic Order wants us dead. Fae aren't answering my calls." I sit back down. Tiredness hitting me. "Doesn't matter. Seven days until hunters arrive. Three days until I die from infection. Either way, I don't see New Year's next month."
"Stop."
"Stop what?"
"Stop writing yourself off." Danny's angry. "You're our leader. We need you believing we can win."
"I believe we can survive. That's different from winning."
"It's better than dying."
"Maybe."
We sit in silence. Watching the Rookeries wake up for the evening. Wolves heading to work. Checking on neighbors. Building community despite knowing it might end in seven days.
Footsteps on the stairs. Valentina appears.
"Can I join?" she asks.
"Yeah." I gesture to the space beside me.
She sits. Closer than necessary. Our shoulders touching.
Danny takes the hint. "I'll leave you two alone. Need to check on Tom anyway."
He disappears back inside.
Valentina and I watch the sunset.
"Two years," she finally says. "I've been thinking about it too. Two years since my life changed."
"When you were turned?"
"Yeah. Cormac's experiment. One night I was nurse saving lives. Next night I was monster learning to kill." She leans against me slightly. "Everything I was disappeared. Career, home, future. All gone because your brother wanted to test a theory."
"I'm sorry."
"Not your fault. You were in prison. Framed by the same brother who destroyed me." She's quiet for a moment. "But it brought me here. To the Rookeries. To you. So maybe it's not entirely bad."
"Sixty-three wolves dead would disagree."
"Some things are worth the cost."
I look at her. Really look. Valentina Corvino. Dhampir. Intelligence broker. Fighter. Survivor.
Friend. Maybe more.
"If we survive the next seven days," I say carefully, "what then? What do you want?"
"Honestly?" She meets my eyes. "A future. A real one. Not just survival day to day but actual plans. Dreams. Hope."
"With me?"
"If you'll have me." She's vulnerable. Open. "I know the timing's terrible. We're probably dying next week. But I need to say this before it's too late."
"Say what?"
"That I love you. Have for months. Probably since you refused to abandon me when Mordaunt captured me. Definitely since you nearly died rescuing me." She takes my hand. "I love you. And if we survive, I want to try. Relationship. Future. Everything."
My throat tightens. "Valentina..."
"If you don't feel the same, that's okay. But I needed you to know. Seven days left. Can't leave things unsaid."
"I feel the same." The words rush out. "Have since that night on the roof. When we talked about our families. About revenge. About building something better." I squeeze her hand. "I love you too. Didn't say it because we're always in crisis. Always fighting. Never time for normal relationship things."
"We're not normal people."
"No. We're broken people trying to build community from ruins." I turn to face her fully. "But if we survive, when we survive, yes. I'll try. Relationship. Future. Everything."
"When we survive." She smiles. "Not if."
"When." I'm committing to it. "Because I'm not dying in seven days. Not from silver poisoning. Not from Parliamentary hunters. Not from anything."
"How do you know?"
"Because I have something to live for now. Someone to live for." I kiss her forehead. "You gave me a future worth surviving toward."
She leans into me. We sit like that. Holding each other. Watching the sun disappear behind London's skyline.
Two years since my father died.
Two years since my life exploded.
And somehow, despite everything, I'm happy.
Not content. Not safe. Not secure.
But happy.
Because I have community. Have purpose. Have love.
"Callum?" Valentina's voice is soft.
"Yeah?"
"If we survive, will you try? With me?"
The question from the outline. The one I'm supposed to answer.
"When we survive, yes."
She kisses me. Properly this time. Deep and desperate and real.
When we break apart, we're both crying.
"Seven days," she whispers.
"Seven days." I wipe her tears. "Then we build our future."
Below us, the Rookeries continues. Eighty-three wolves living their lives. Unaware that their leader just promised a future he might not live to see.
But I'll try.
For them.
For her.
For the community we've built.
I'll survive the next seven days.
Somehow.