133

133
Brinleys POV

The cliff burned itself into my eyes.
Maeve stood there. Not the girl who had once laughed with me under the forest canopy, not the one who had whispered that she loved me first. This Maeve was cloaked in shadows, her hair spilling into smoke, her eyes eclipses of gold and black. She looked like a goddess sculpted from night. She looked untouchable.
And yet—I felt her.
The bond throbbed like a live wire in my chest, every beat screaming that she was alive. Alive. Alive. But terrified.
She wasn’t gone. Not yet.
Raiyna stirred in my chest, claws carving deep into my ribs as if to keep me grounded. She’s there, my wolf snarled. Our mate is still there. And if you don’t fight for her now, you’ll lose her forever.
I swallowed hard, tasting bile.
Lucian’s voice thundered through the mind-link, his orders cracking like whips: Do not engage her. Kill the beasts. Hold the lines. No one touches the girl.
But my feet were already moving.
Kieran vaulted down the wall before Lucian even finished, Onyx a streak of shadow that split a mirehound in half. Rowen followed, Axel hitting the mud like a hammer, ripping a shade-stag to pieces. My body shifted mid-air before I realized what I’d done. Fur burst across my skin, bones cracked, and then Raiyna landed hard on four paws, snarling, claws cutting trenches into the dirt.
Finally, she growled, purring dark satisfaction. Unfinished business.
The beasts screamed. Bonecrows raked the air, their talons dripping black fire. Mirehounds snapped, jaws wide enough to swallow wolves whole. Lightning cracked across the antlers of shade-stags, blinding bursts splitting the mud.
And I tore into them like they were nothing but paper.
Raiyna was merciless. Every slash, every bite was a song of fury in her throat. She lunged for the bonecrows first, catching one mid-swoop and breaking its neck like kindling. She spat feathers, snarling, They’ve been waiting for us. The dead always wait for unfinished blood.
Somewhere in the chaos I caught sight of Kieran, his shadows exploding outward in a storm of teeth and claws that weren’t his own. Onyx was half-free, ripping mirehounds apart, his howl echoing across the battlefield like a war drum. Rowen fought like a blade in motion, Axel snapping through shade-stags, blood painting his fur silver-black.
And in the middle of it all, Lucian’s command still rang in my skull: Do not engage her.
I ignored him.
Because the bond burned too hot, because every heartbeat from Maeve’s chest echoed against mine, because I knew if I didn’t move forward, I’d never forgive myself.
I felt her. I felt her fear, her panic, her soul pressed against the cage of shadow inside her.
Maeve! I screamed through the bond, even as Raiyna shredded a hound at my feet. You’re still there, aren’t you?
For a heartbeat, silence.

Then a whisper. Fragile. Breaking. Brinley…

My paws faltered. My chest nearly split open with relief. She was there. Our Maeve.

“Brin!” Rowen’s voice cut through, raw and panicked. He slammed his shoulder into a shade-stag and shoved it away from me. “Stay with us!”
I shifted back, panting, blood soaking my hands as I stumbled into human skin again. My chest heaved. “She’s alive, Rowen. I felt her. She answered.”
Kieran’s shadows snapped like whips across the mud. His eyes, pure black, burned with desperation. “Where?”
“Everywhere,” I gasped. “She’s everywhere and she’s terrified.”

Raiyna’s snarl curled through me, low and sharp. She’s not just terrified. She’s chained. And it isn’t just the shadow—it’s someone else. Another wolf wearing her skin.
The world seemed to slow. My gaze dragged upward, back to the cliff where Maeve stood frozen in stormlight.
Her mouth moved. But when the words hit, they weren’t hers.

I am Valeriese.

The battlefield went still. Every creature—witch, wolf, vampire—locked in place. Even the storm held its breath.
The name struck like an arrow to the chest. My lungs seized.
Rowen’s voice trembled. “What the hell…”

Valeriese’s voice filled every head at once. I am the last soul of the golden wolves. Maeve is the last of us. She is the strongest, and we seek revenge on everyone who wronged us a century ago. You murdered our kind because we were stronger, faster. You saw us as a threat. And now, we rise.

Her howl split the air, ripping through my bones.

The bond flared in agony. Maeve screamed inside me—not out loud, not on the battlefield, but in the tether. Her pain echoed so loudly it stole my breath.
And suddenly, things clicked.

The night Delilah died.

I had been there. I’d seen Maeve’s hands dripping blood, her eyes wild with something I hadn’t recognized. That was when it started. Not just her descent, not just the first taste of darkness. That was when the shadow found its opening.
Delilah had been a Child of the Moon. The coven that slaughtered the golden wolves a century ago. Maeve hadn’t just killed an enemy. She had spilled the blood of the same hands that had wiped Valeriese’s kind from the earth.

The shadow hadn’t come from nowhere. It had been waiting. Waiting for her to draw that blood, to open the door.
And gods, she had.

My stomach heaved. I staggered, bile burning my throat.
“Brinley!” Rowen grabbed my arm, eyes wide. “What is it?”
I choked out the words. “Delilah. When Maeve killed her—that’s when the shadow got in. That’s when Valeriese found her. It was never random. It was vengeance.”
Kieran’s jaw tightened, shadows curling tighter around him like a noose.

Raiyna snarled so loud it shook my skull. 

I felt Maeve then, thrashing in the bond, clawing to reach us. Her voice cracked, weak but present: I didn’t mean to… I didn’t know…

Tears blurred my vision. “We know, Maeve. We know. We’re coming.”

But her reply broke me. She won’t let me. She’s too strong.

Raiyna surged against my ribs, howling. Then we’ll be stronger. We’ll rip her out if we have to.

The battlefield screamed back to life. Shadows crashed, beasts roared, steel met flesh. Blood sprayed across the mud, thick and endless.
But none of it mattered. Not to me. Not anymore.

All I could see was Maeve on the cliff, her body a cage, her soul rattling inside, begging us to save her.

All I could hear was Valeriese’s laughter curling through the storm, ancient and merciless, promising war that would burn every one of us to ash.

And all I could feel—through the bond, through every mark carved into my skin—was Maeve.

Alive. Terrified. And still ours.