Chapter 27 The Morning After (Vivienne POV)
Cold is what wakes me, the sharp October chill against bare skin.
I'm lying on forest floor, pine needles pressing patterns into my back, completely naked except for a heavy jacket draped over me. The fabric smells like Declan, pine and earth and something distinctly him that makes my wolf purr contentedly even though I'm human again.
Human.
The realization hits me all at once. I have fingers, not paws. Skin, not fur. I'm speaking height, not running height.
I shifted back.
"You're awake." Declan's voice comes from nearby, quiet and careful.
I turn my head without sitting up, still processing the return to human form. He's sitting against a tree about ten feet away, wearing jeans but nothing else, his torso bare despite the cold. His grey eyes watch me with an intensity that should feel invasive but doesn't.
"How long was I..." I stop, my voice coming out rough and unused.
"About six hours. You shifted back around four AM." He doesn't move closer, giving me space. "How do you feel?"
"Naked. Cold. Confused." I pull his jacket tighter around myself. "Also starving. Is that normal?"
"Very. Transformation burns enormous energy. You probably need about five thousand calories to recover properly."
"Five thousand?" I try to sit up and every muscle screams in protest. "Oh God, everything hurts."
"Also normal. First shifts are hell on the body. Here." He reaches into a bag beside him, when did that get here? and pulls out sweatpants and a shirt. "Sophie packed these. Freya brought them around midnight."
"They know?"
"They suspected. Now they know for certain." He tosses the clothes to me. "I'll turn around. Get dressed."
He does, facing away with his back to me. I struggle into the clothes, my coordination still adjusting to being human again. Everything feels wrong, standing on two legs instead of four, fingers instead of paws, limited senses compared to the wolf's overwhelming awareness.
"I liked it," I say quietly, surprising myself with the admission.
Declan's shoulders tense. "Liked what?"
"Being a wolf. Running. The way everything felt more real, more vivid. The strength." I pull the shirt over my head. "Is that wrong? Should I be horrified instead?"
"No. It means your wolf and human halves are compatible. That you're accepting what you are instead of fighting it." He pauses. "Not everyone does that, especially after forced transformations. Some people spend years hating their wolf."
"I don't hate her. I just..." I sit back down, exhausted from the effort of dressing. "I'm confused about what happens now."
"Now we talk." He turns back around, still keeping distance. "Really talk. No more secrets. No more half-truths. You deserve complete honesty."
"Okay." I wrap my arms around my knees. "Start with the mate bond. Freya mentioned it, but I don't fully understand."
Declan settles against his tree, choosing words carefully. "The mate bond is supernatural connection between two werewolves. It's rare…most wolves never find their mate. But when it happens, it's immediate and absolute. Recognition on a level deeper than conscious thought."
"Like magnets," I say, remembering the pull between us from the first day.
"Exactly. You felt it in the Great Hall. I caught your scent and my wolf claimed you instantly. Mine. That's what the bond does…it marks someone as yours and you as theirs."
"But I wasn't a werewolf yet. How could the bond form if I was human?"
"You were never fully human. The suppression spells hid your nature, but your wolf was always there, dormant but present. And wolves recognize their mates regardless of what form they're in."
I think about this, about seventeen years of feeling slightly disconnected from myself. "That's why I never fit anywhere. Why I always felt like something was missing."
"Your wolf was sleeping. That feeling of incompleteness? That was her, trying to wake up."
"And you woke her." It's not an accusation, just observation. "The mate bond broke the suppression."
"Partially. Your connection to me accelerated the awakening, yes. But Vivienne, it was going to happen eventually. Edmund could delay it, suppress it, but not stop it permanently. Especially not once you turned seventeen."
"Why seventeen?"
"Werewolf abilities fully manifest during late adolescence. Usually between sixteen and eighteen. Edmund managed to extend your suppression longer than most because of the Silvermane bloodline strength, but even his spells had limits."
I pull the jacket tighter, Declan's scent enveloping me. "Tell me about my bloodline. Callum said something last night, called me pure Silvermane. What does that mean?"
Declan's expression becomes complicated. "The Silvermanes are legendary. Original werewolf family, dating back thousands of years. Most modern werewolves have diluted bloodlines…multiple family lines mixing over generations. But the Silvermanes maintained purity. Which means their abilities are stronger, their transformations more powerful, and their political influence significant."
"Political influence?"
"Werewolves aren't just individual creatures. We organize into packs with hierarchies and territories and alliances. The Silvermane family held enormous power before the massacre in 1887. If a Silvermane heir emerged now, after over a century..."
"It would change everything," I finish.
"Yes."
"But I don't know anything about pack politics or hierarchies or any of it. I just learned I could transform yesterday."
"I know. But your bloodline doesn't care about experience. You're a female Alpha-sized wolf from the most powerful family in British werewolf history. People will have expectations."
"What kind of expectations?"
He hesitates, and I see the conflict in his expression. "Leadership. Alliance-building. Possibly rebuilding the Silvermane pack. You're too powerful to exist without political implications."
The weight of it settles on my shoulders. I just wanted to understand what I am. I didn't ask for political complications.
"What about your pack?" I ask. "Am I part of it now? Or am I separate because of bloodline stuff?"
"That's complicated."
"Everything is complicated."
"Fair point." He runs a hand through his hair. "Technically, you became part of Greyfang Pack when we all chose to defend you last night. Pack law says that unified defense of someone makes them packmate regardless of formal ceremonies. But you're also Silvermane, which means you could claim Alpha status if you wanted. Create your own pack. Challenge me for leadership of Greyfang."
"Challenge you?" The idea is absurd. "Why would I do that?"
"Because you're mated to me, and having an Alpha mate creates power dynamics that can destabilize existing hierarchies. Some pack members might see you as threat to my authority. Others might want to follow you instead of me. It's... messy."
"So being your mate makes pack politics harder."
"Yes."
"Great." I drop my head onto my knees. "Is there anything about my new life that isn't impossibly complicated?"
"The running. Running as a wolf is simple and perfect and exactly what it seems."
Despite everything, I smile. "You're right. The running was good."
"It was." His voice softens. "You were beautiful, by the way. As a wolf. I've never seen fur that color…pure silver, almost luminescent. And your size... Vivienne, female wolves your size are rare. You're Alpha-strong in your first shift. Do you understand how exceptional that is?"
"Freya said the first transformation could kill me. That some people's hearts stop from trauma."
"But yours didn't. Because you're Silvermane. Because you're strong enough to survive what breaks other wolves."
"Or lucky," I mutter.
"Luck has nothing to do with it. You survived because you accepted the transformation instead of fighting it. Because your wolf and human sides work together instead of warring." He shifts position, leaning forward. "Most newly transformed werewolves spend weeks learning to shift back and forth. You did it in six hours. That's not luck. That's power."
The word makes me uncomfortable. Power implies control, and I feel entirely out of control.
"What happens now?" I ask. "With my father, with his hunters, with the attack that's still coming?"
"I don't know. Edmund retreated last night, but he has an operation scheduled. Equipment installed. Hunters hired. That doesn't just disappear because he walked away from one confrontation."
"Will he really attack? After seeing me as a wolf?"
"I don't know what he'll do. He's broken, yes, but he's also spent seventeen years preparing for war against werewolves. That kind of obsession doesn't turn off overnight."
I think about Father's face last night…the grief and horror and resignation. "He said I looked like her. Like my mother."
"You do. The silver fur, the size, even the way you moved. It was like watching Lyanna again."
"Did you know her?"
"No. She died before you were born. But pack elders told stories. About the Silvermane female who married a human. Who tried to live in both worlds. Who died during childbirth because she couldn't control her transformation."
"Father killed her. It wasn't loss of control…he murdered her with a silver blade."
Declan nods slowly. "I suspected. The official story never made sense. But hearing him admit it last night..."
"Changes things?"
"Confirms things. Your father is a murderer who spent seventeen years poisoning his own daughter to prevent her becoming what he feared. That's not love. That's control disguised as protection."
"He thinks he was saving me."
"And you deserve better than someone who thinks saving you requires destroying part of who you are."
The words land with unexpected weight. Because he's right. Father's version of love always came with conditions…be human, be obedient, be what he needs me to be. Never just be myself.
"I can't go back to him," I say quietly.
"No. You can't."
"I can't return to campus either. He'll be watching. Waiting."
"Which is why you'll stay with the pack. We have safe houses off-campus. Places Edmund doesn't know about. You'll be protected while we figure out next steps."
"And then what? I hide forever? Never finish school? Never have a normal life?"
"Nothing about your life will be normal now. But that doesn't mean it can't be good. Just different."
I look at him across the small distance between us. He's been patient, giving me space, letting me process. But I can see the tension in his shoulders, the careful way he holds himself.
"The mate bond," I say. "What does it mean practically? Beyond feeling connected?"
"It means we're drawn to each other on instinctive level. That being apart is physically uncomfortable. That we're compelled to protect each other above all others. That eventually..." He trails off.
"Eventually what?"
"Eventually the bond will demand completion. Physical claiming. Marking. Making the connection permanent in every sense."
Heat floods my face. "Sex."
"Among other things. But yes, eventually the bond pushes toward full physical connection. It's part of what makes mates mates…the complete intertwining of lives and bodies and futures."
"How soon is eventually?"
"Depends. Some bonds demand completion immediately. Others take months or years. Ours is... intense because of the circumstances. The suppression breaking, the first transformation, the trauma. It's accelerating things."
"Your heat cycle," I realize. "That's part of this."
"Yes. My wolf recognizing you triggered the cycle before I was ready. And your transformation will have triggered responses in me that..." He stops, jaw clenching. "I need to be honest. Being near you right now is difficult. My wolf wants to claim you, mark you, complete the bond. I'm controlling it, but it's not easy."
"Should I move further away?"
"No." The word comes out fierce. "Don't move away. I can control myself. I just need you to understand what I'm dealing with."
"I understand wanting something you can't have." I pull his jacket tighter. "I've spent my entire life wanting to know what I was. Wanting to be whole. Wanting freedom from Father's control. Last night I got all of that, and it was terrifying and perfect and now I don't know what to do with it."
"You don't have to do anything yet. Just exist. Just be."
"I've never been good at just being."
"Then learn. You have time now. You have pack. You have me." He finally moves closer, crossing the space between us to sit beside me. "Vivienne, I know everything is overwhelming. I know your whole world just shattered and rebuilt itself in twenty-four hours. But you're not alone in this. Whatever happens next, we face it together."
"Even if facing it means war with my father?"
"Even then."
I lean against him, letting his warmth seep into my cold skin. His arm comes around my shoulders automatically, holding me carefully.
"I'm sorry," I say after a moment. "For all of this. For my father targeting your pack. For being the reason hunters are coming. For…"
"Stop. None of this is your fault. You didn't choose Edmund as a father. Didn't choose to be suppressed. Didn't choose to be bait in his trap. You're a victim, not a villain."
"I don't feel like a victim. I feel like a catalyst. Like my existence makes everything more dangerous."
"Your existence makes everything more real. More honest. Edmund was always hunting us. You didn't cause that…you exposed it. Brought it into the open where we could deal with it."
"By almost getting killed?"
"By surviving. By transforming. By choosing yourself over his control." His grip tightens. "You're the bravest person I know, Vivienne Silvermane."
"Vivienne Ashford," I correct automatically, then stop. "Actually, no. You're right. Silvermane. That's who I am. Daughter of Lyanna. Mate to Declan Hartley."
"And wolf," he adds. "Don't forget that part."
"How could I? I was naked in the woods covered in fur six hours ago."
He laughs, the sound surprised and genuine. "Fair point."
We sit in silence as dawn light filters through the trees. The forest is waking up…birds calling, small creatures rustling through undergrowth, the distant sound of a stream. Everything feels sharper now, more vivid, even in human form. Like becoming a wolf enhanced all my senses permanently.
"What happens today?" I ask finally. "Right now, practically. Do we go back to campus? Hide? Run?"
"We go to the safe house. Get you food and rest. Let the pack know you're okay. And then..." He pauses. "Then we prepare. Because Edmund may have retreated last night, but Friday's operation is still scheduled. We have less than forty-eight hours before hunters attack. We need to be ready."
"Ready how?"
"Strategy. Planning. Deciding whether we evacuate or fight. Making sure everyone knows what they're risking by staying."
"They stayed last night. Defended me even though I wasn't pack."
"Because you're my mate. And because the bond demands we protect our own." He stands, offering me his hand. "Come on. Let's get you fed and warm. Everything else can wait a few hours."
I take his hand and let him pull me up. My legs shake…exhaustion or transformation aftereffects…but I manage to stay upright.
"Declan?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you. For staying with me. For protecting me. For not trying to control me even when it would be easier."
"That's what mates do." He doesn't let go of my hand. "We protect each other. We stay. We choose partnership over power."
"Even when choosing partnership makes everything more complicated?"
"Especially then."
We walk through the forest together, my hand in his, the morning sun warming our faces. Behind us, the night's trauma lingers…transformation and confrontation and father's rejection. Ahead, uncertainty waits…hunters and attacks and impossible choices.
But right now, in this moment, I'm just walking with Declan through trees that smell like home.
And that's enough.