End

End

AYLA'S POV

I wake up in the middle of a clearing. Cold grass presses against my back. The sky above is gray, heavy with clouds like it forgot how to let the sun in. My body feels… empty. Not tired. Not in pain. Just empty. Like someone turned off all the lights inside me and forgot to plug me back in.

I sit up slowly, and the first thing I notice is my hands.

They are burned.

The skin is raw and blistered across my palms, fingertips blackened and cracked. I flex my fingers and flinch, a soft hiss leaving my mouth before I can stop it. But it’s not just the burns. It’s the quiet. There’s no hum. No gold light warming my veins. No fire waiting behind my ribs. Just silence.

I don’t have to be told.

My powers are gone. And I don't think… I mind it. In fact, I am glad.

I look around. Trees. Dirt. A trail of ash in a long, broken arc around where I lay. Like something big exploded, and I was the eye of the storm.

Then I hear it.

A cough.

My head whips to the side. Thane.

He’s lying not far from me, face pale, shirt ripped at the shoulder. Blood crusted near his mouth. He’s breathing slow and shallow but breathing.

“Thane,” I whisper, crawling to him.

My hands scream in pain, but I don’t stop. I crawl through dirt and rocks, drag myself next to him, and cup the side of his face. His skin’s warm. That alone makes me want to cry.

“Thane,” I say again, louder this time.

His eyelids flutter. Then slowly, like it’s taking all the effort in the world, he opens them.

Blue eyes.

Soft.

Familiar.

He stares at me like he’s not sure if I’m real. Then…

“Ayla,” he says. Hoarse. Barely more than a breath.

I nod, eyes stinging. “Yeah. I’m here.”

He blinks. His lip trembles. His eyes look too wet, too human for someone who’s supposed to be a warrior, a wolf, a leader.

“I tried to stop,” he says, voice cracking. “I knew it was wrong, I knew it but I couldn’t. I could hear you, but I couldn’t get back. I wanted to. I swear I did.”

“I know,” I whisper, pressing my forehead to his. “You came back. That’s enough.”

He shakes his head weakly. “Garrick-he…”

I shut my eyes. “I know.”

Silence.

Heavy. But not cruel. Just... honest.

We stay like that for a while. Not speaking. Just breathing. Listening to the wind move through the trees. There’s no darkness. No monster. No spell clawing at our skin. It’s over.

At least, I hope it is.

The walk back to the pack is slow. Every step feels like I’m dragging lead behind me. My legs work, but barely. My head keeps spinning, and I can’t tell if it’s the aftershock or just the weight of everything pressing down at once.

Thane doesn’t say much. Just keeps glancing over at me like he’s checking to make sure I’m still walking, still breathing. There’s dried blood on his shirt, streaks of ash across his jaw. His hand brushes mine once, like he meant to take it but changed his mind halfway through. I let it hang there, between us, not forcing anything. We’re both too raw.

When we finally reach the clearing where the others are, the quiet hits harder.

No one is speaking. They’re standing in clusters.
And then someone sees us.

A sharp intake of breath. A few heads turn.

I brace myself. For blame. For suspicion. For anything that looks like hate.

But it doesn’t come.

One of the elders, an old wolf with a heavy limp and a voice like gravel steps forward. He looks between the two of us, his expression unreadable.

“You protected us,” he says quietly. “Even when we didn’t protect you.”

I blink.

It’s not a thank-you. It’s not praise.

It’s just… truth.

And it hits harder than anything else could’ve.

Thane swallows, nods once, but doesn’t speak.

We walk past them slowly, side by side, not touching. There’s nothing left to explain. They know what happened. I don't ask how… but they know. Maybe not all of it. But enough. Enough to know we’re still standing when we shouldn’t be.

Later, after the sun dips low and the others start lighting fires to stay warm, I slip away from the crowd.

I need space. Air. Time.

My body feels wrong, too light, too quiet. The kind of quiet that feels like an absence. I sit on a fallen log near the edge of the woods, staring down at my hands.

The burns are worse now. Angry red lines. Blisters that throb every time I move. But it’s not just the pain. It’s the emptiness under my skin. No more golden light. No more fire humming just beneath the surface. It’s like someone flipped a switch and I went dark.

And the strangest part?

I’m okay with it.

I don’t know when that happened. Maybe it was when Garrick died. Maybe it was when I held Thane and he finally came back to himself. Maybe it was just… time.

But for the first time in what feels like forever, I’m not trying to get something back. Not chasing anything. Not fighting to prove who I am.

I’m just me.

And it’s enough.

“He has been buried,” a voice says behind me and I turn to see Thane standing in the shadows.

“Garrick?’

“Hmm.”

The grave isn’t anything fancy.

Just a quiet patch near the trees, where the grass still grows and the wind moves easy. Someone cleared the area out. Probably Thane. There's a mound of earth, freshly packed, and a flat stone pressed into the head like a marker. No words carved into it. No flowers. Just a place.

He is sitting on his heels, elbows on his knees, staring at the ground like it might open up and give him one more minute.

I don’t say anything. Just ease down beside him, wincing as my burned hands press into my jeans. He looks over, eyes tired but soft, and gives me the smallest nod.

We sit there in silence for a long time.

Not awkward silence. Not heavy.

Just still.

Like if we sit still enough, maybe Garrick’s spirit will catch the quiet and stop to listen.

After a while, I reach into my pocket and pull out a stone. It’s small. Smooth. I picked it up from the ruins before we left. I didn’t even know why at the time. Just… felt like I needed to.

I lean forward and place it on the grave, right beside the marker.

“He kept his promise,” I say quietly. “To help.”

Thane’s jaw clenches. He nods again. Still no words.

His hand comes to rest near mine. Not touching. Just close. I don't pull away.

“Do you think he knew?” he asks after a while.

I glance at him. “What?”

“That we cared. That we… that he mattered.”

My throat tightens. “Yeah. I think he did.”

We sit a while longer. The wind shifts. Somewhere in the distance, I hear someone calling out for more firewood. Someone else laughs—short, rough, but real.

The pack is still moving. Still breathing.

Later that night

They offer me a title.

One of the elders stands up in front of everyone while we’re gathered around the main clearing. Fires crackle low. Kids are curled up in blankets. Wolves shift in and out of human form, some too tired to stay changed.

“Ayla,” the elder says, looking right at me. “We’d be honored if you—”

“No,” I say before he can finish.

A few heads turn. Someone mutters something, confused.

I smile a little, but there’s no humor in it. Just truth.

“I want to live,” I say. “That’s all.”

Thane’s watching me. He doesn’t look surprised. Maybe a little proud.

They don’t argue. No ceremonies. No crowns. Just a quiet understanding.

We’re not doing the old way anymore.