Chapter 78

Isla POV

When he was gone, I lifted my gaze toward the distant glow of the pack’s territory toward her.

A faint hum stirred beneath my ribs. Not pain. Not warmth. Something in between.

The bond.

Still alive.

Still pulsing.

“I’ll keep you safe,” I murmured into the wind. “Even if it means you’ll never forgive me.”

The trees swayed, and for a heartbeat, I swore I heard a whisper her name carried on the air.

Isla.

Isla

By morning, the packhouse was alive with tension.

Warriors moved through the halls like shadows; messengers came and went in hurried bursts. Even the air felt heavier, thick with expectation.

I stood by the window in the war room, staring at the map Tristan had left spread across the table. Red markers dotted the borders too many of them.

Lyra slipped in quietly, carrying a tray. “You haven’t eaten.”

“I’m not hungry.”

She hesitated, then set it down anyway. “He hasn’t slept, you know. Tristan.”

“I figured.”

She fidgeted, twisting her fingers together. “He’s scared. For you. For all of us.”

I looked at her then, really looked the way her eyes darted toward the forest, the way her shoulders stiffened at every distant howl. She wasn’t just frightened of the rogues. She was frightened of what I might do.

“You think I’ll go after him again,” I said quietly.

She didn’t deny it.

I turned back to the map, tracing a finger over the northern ridge. “I won’t,” I said finally. “Not unless he comes back.”

Lyra exhaled, a sound somewhere between relief and disbelief. “Let’s hope he doesn’t.”

But even as she said it, I couldn’t bring myself to agree. Because deep down, I knew he would.

Not as an enemy.

Not yet.

As a warning.

Something was changing. The boundaries, the magic, the air itself it all felt like the world was holding its breath.

And in that silence, I heard it again.

A howl, far away.

Not a challenge this time.

A promise.

I closed my eyes, letting it echo through me.

Whatever storm was coming, it hadn’t reached us yet.

But it was close.

Close enough that the ground trembled beneath my feet and my wolf stirred restlessly inside me.

Kieran was out there.

And whether he knew it or not, the bond we both pretended to hate was about to become the only thing standing between us and the darkness waiting to swallow us whole.

Far beyond the borders, the red dawn broke again not a wound this time, but a warning.

And for the first time in a long time, both Alpha and outcast lifted their heads toward it, hearts beating in the same rhythm, neither ready to let go.

The day that followed the red dawn should have been peaceful the kind of calm that comes before life resumes its rhythm but it wasn’t.

The silence in the packhouse had teeth.

It didn’t just sit still; it waited. Every creak of wood, every muffled footstep, every flutter of wings beyond the window felt like the world itself holding its breath.

Tristan hadn’t come to breakfast. That alone was unusual.

He was always up before everyone the first to train, the first to speak to the patrol leaders, the first to make sure I was fine. But this morning, the chair beside me stayed empty, his untouched coffee growing cold as the pack moved through the motions of another tense morning.

Lyra tried to talk to me. I think she even smiled once. But every word between us felt like walking on a frozen lake, knowing that one wrong step would send us both through the ice.

So I excused myself, took my cloak, and slipped outside.

The air was sharp and heavy with mist, the kind that clung to the skin like warning fingers. Somewhere in the forest, a hawk screamed a sound that always reminded me of something breaking.

The training field was empty except for a few sparring wolves who bowed when they saw me. I nodded back automatically. The title of Luna had never fit right on my shoulders; it still felt borrowed, heavy, and cold.

When I reached the edge of the trees, I stopped.

For weeks, I’d felt it that faint hum just beneath the earth, like the ground itself was whispering. I’d thought it was my imagination, but now I wasn’t so sure.

The air shimmered faintly between the trees, like heat waves on a summer road. I reached out instinctively, brushing my fingers through it, and felt something hum back alive.

Magic.

The realization made my pulse stutter.

It wasn’t supposed to exist here anymore. The last of it had been sealed generations ago when the Blood Pacts were written. But this was old. Ancient. Something had cracked, and whatever was leaking through didn’t belong in this world anymore.

I drew my hand back and stared at the faint light still clinging to my fingertips.

“You feel it too.”

The voice behind me made me jump.

Tristan stood a few feet away, his cloak thrown over his shoulders, eyes shadowed with exhaustion. There was blood on his sleeve, but from the smell of it, it wasn’t his.

“I thought you were resting,” I said softly.

He shook his head. “Couldn’t.”

He came closer, his gaze landing on the shimmer between the trees. For a moment, neither of us spoke. The hum seemed to pulse stronger between us, like it recognized something.

“It’s spreading,” he said finally. “The magic. The stones are glowing further south now. Our trackers say it reacts whenever the wind changes.”

I frowned. “What could cause that?”

He hesitated. “A breach. Or someone powerful enough to bend the old boundaries.”

My heart sank. “You think it’s Kieran.”

“I don’t know.” His jaw tightened. “But his presence stirs it. That much I can feel.”

We stood in silence, the morning wind curling through the clearing, stirring his hair, brushing against the side of my face. For the first time, he didn’t look like the Alpha just a man standing too close to something he couldn’t control.

“He’s not the same,” Tristan said after a while. “You saw that.”

“Yes.”

“But you still believe there’s something of him left.”

“Yes,” I whispered. “Because I have to.”

He exhaled slowly. “Then I hope you’re right. Because if you’re not” He didn’t finish. He didn’t have to.

The silence between us stretched until the air itself seemed to hum. Then, faintly like a sound carried through memory came a single howl.

Not near. But close enough that my wolf stirred beneath my skin, restless, alert.

I turned toward the sound instinctively, but Tristan’s hand caught my wrist.